Cirque du Soleil Ain’t Got Nothin’ on Me


Photo by Mariana Oliver is licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0.

Photo by Mariana Oliver is licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0

I got cranial contortions like nobody’s business. If you were fitted with a model that can respond to a generated thought with mild disregard before moving on to the next item of interest, I’m somewhat (read immensely) envious. 

I don’t so much have this problem with observations such as “My hooves are looking particularly gnarly in light of the fact that it’s flip flop weather,” or “Dammit, where did the daily challenges go on Words With Friends?!” It’s the relational stuff that sends my brain into a tizzy. 

I can argue with myself for days y’all. Here’s one of my common scenarios: 

“I really want to <insert perfectly non-scandalous desire>. 

But <insert name or description of relative, friend, acquaintance, or completely rando individual> will think me dreadful because <insert bullshit/petty/personal-issue-based/completely irrelevant opinion>.” 

There’s no end to the combinations one can employ in the completion of this equation: 

1. <Take a nap> <grandma> <I like to take naps> 

2. <Go visit my bestie for a few days> <*the self-appointed leader of the League of Proper Mothers*> <if you have structurally intact undergarments and a decent haircut, you aren’t doing it right. A flight out of town? Turn in your mommy card> 

3. <Start writing a blog> <one or (gasp!) more of my 410 FB friends> <who would want to voice their own personal thoughts and opinions, that’s just stoo-pid> 

Once the terms are defined, I move on to the debate portion. Stamina-wise, it helps to have a shit-ton of self-improvement reading in your arsenal. Using equation #1, I’ll give you a little peak into my process. 

“Man I’m tired. I reeeeeally could use a nap. 

But grandma might find out. You know what? Screw grandma. Since when is it a crime to be tired? 

But wait- I’m a mom. My kids didn’t choose to be born, I made that happen. If I take a nap, I’ll be violating the Mom Imperative- the one requiring that I be available 24/7 to meet every need and/or demand of said spawn. 

But hold up- my youngest child is 15. What could possibly happen in the space of 2 hours that will result in the ruination of her life at my hand? (Answer to this question deleted in the interest of time & space.) 

Who am I kidding, that’s beside the point. When my kids were young, I took way too many naps. Attempting to maintain some semblance of a marriage and homeschool 6 kids without losing my mind was no excuse. Good moms power through, they don’t take naps. I was just a lazy slacker. 

Gawwwwwd, why am I always so harsh with myself? Why can’t I treat myself with the same gentleness that I treat my friends? Grrrrrr, thanks grandma for making me feel like crap! 

Stop! Damn, I’m letting somebody else Pull My Strings again. Dr. Dyer warned me there’d be days like this. Nobody can make me feel anything. Shoot, what were those four questions again? *googles Byron Katie* ‘Does grandma really think I’m horrible for wanting to nap? Can I absolutely know that’s true? How do I react when I believe that thought? Who would I be without that thought?’ I’d be a mofo taking a nap, that’s who I’d be!


And on and on it goes. 

If this makes absolutely no sense to you and you find yourself thinking “Uhhhh, how about you just take the damn nap,” consider yourself fortunate. Because that shit wears me out. 

*googles Law of Attraction / using profanity*