Absolutely loved the honesty of this post from Danielle LaPorte the other day. So much so that she’s inspired me to write my own…
I suck at:
Getting out of bed in the morning. I’ve never been a morning person. Ever. I just like my bed waaaaay too much. It’s warm and while I’m in it I don’t have to be Mum getting everyone sorted and ready for breakfast and school. And it’s warm (did I mention that already). Especially when it’s -7 outside.
At keeping in touch with people. I rarely pick up the phone and I can’t remember the last time I wrote a letter or Christmas card. Facebook was a saving grace for me because it allowed me to connect with family and friends, but I hate to share the personal details on it because you never know who is watching…
Getting motivated on my days off. I get one day off from my paid job a week – Wednesday. It’s the only day of the week that I have at home. Alone. Time to do all of the non-homemaker-related stuff that I want to get done. But I find it really hard to start doing the first thing on the list for that Wednesday. I always find something else to do – like tidy my already tidy desk.
Speaking up in a room of people. I sit back, listen and watch. I form clever and witty retorts and remarks in my head. But when it comes time to open my mouth and speak, I’m sure that I sound like some sort of colossal dope. So I don’t speak. But I wish I could.
Committing to an exercise regime. I’ve reached that age (apparently officially old) where I really need to exercise for my own good. But I hate exercise. I’d rather have my spleen extracted through my belly button than do anything physical. And it’s just way to cold in the mornings (see Getting out of bed in the mornings) to get up and walk, which used to be my exercise of choice.
In the interests of honesty and transparency, I also asked the family what I suck at. Here are their responses:
From Daughter: “You suck at giving in to your children, Mum.” Au contraire ma cherie, not giving in to your current whim makes me a good Mum. You’ll thank me later.
From the Little Man: “Sport.” Apparently I suck at soccer and although he’s never seen me play it, he says I’d suck at basketball as well. No argument from me, my love.
From Husband: “Letting go the small stuff. How’s that.” Duly noted, Husband. I’ll continue to work on it, but I’m not sure we can afford the therapists bill, so you’ll just have to listen to me bitch a little longer.