Family life, Paleo-ish eating and Coping with Chronic Illness

Talking too Much

Hmm…I feel like I am coming dangerously close to running out of things to say.  I didn’t know that could happen.  When you talk as much I do, you’re bound to eventually use up all the words you’ve been allotted in one lifetime though, right?  The well may soon run dry.

Lately, I’ve been trying to talk less.  Shy people think they have all the problems.  Talky people have problems too.  Words are awesome.  Words can give people confidence, and make people feel loved.  Words can make peace.

You know what else words can do?  Words can tear people down.  They can make people feel left out, and disrupt friendships and family bonds. You have to be careful with words.  Sometimes words you mean to come out right, come out wrong.  You have to be cautious with those kinds of words too.  You can’t be careless. Sometimes I am careless.  I’m sorry for that.

There are seven people in the family I was born into.  When we are in a group, three of those seven people do eighty percent of the talking.  I’m one of those three talking people.  One of my non talky sisters told me recently that when we were together she noticed the three talkers monopolizing the entire conversation. She wasn’t mad, or hurt.  She was just telling the truth.  She had some stuff to say, but she told herself she guessed it wasn’t meant to be said.

Shoot!  Did we really do that?  I didn’t even notice.  Actually, I did notice.  I noticed that the other two talkers were talking so much, I didn’t get to say everything I wanted to say.  Seriously, that’s what I was thinking.  That’s how easy it is to be wrong.

At first,  I wanted to deny what my sister told me; then I realized she just did something nice for me.  She gave me an opportunity to improve.   Sometimes when I think I’m helping shy people by keeping the conversation going, I’m really just being selfish.  I’m grabbing all the words, and keeping the conversation focused on myself.  GAHH!!!  I hate it when I do that.

Some people take more time to put their thoughts together.  They need a moment or two of silence to get the courage to offer their input.  It’s worth the wait though. While you’ve been yammering your head off non-stop for the last three hours, those non talkers have had a lot of time to think.  They are insightful.

So, that’s what I’ve learned.  I didn’t like learning it, but I learned it.  Now I have to do something about it.  When you see me with duct tape over my mouth, just give me the thumbs up.  We both know what’s happening.

If you point something out that I am doing wrong, I’m going to want to fix it.  That’s what most of us do, right?  That isn’t what some guy I came across on Facebook does.

This is mean, but I am going to admit something to you.  I can’t see this guy’s updates on Facebook any more.  I blocked him.  I did.  I’m sorry, I don’t like doing that, but it was either block him,  or kill him. Murder just seems like a lot of work.  I’ve never done one before, and I’m super busy.

This guy kept telling all his Facebook BFF’s about his favorite things: porn, drinking to excess, his sex habit, strip clubs and his drug habit.   He is your basic straight arrow.

I kept seeing this stuff and thinking, “Dude, I don’t want to know about all that crap. Keep it to yourself.”  My hand would hover over the block button.  Then, I’d think, “hey, little missy, you’ve got your own problems.  Who are you to judge?”

Then, the day came.  This guy posts that he feels so badly.  His teenagers are misbehaving.  He tells his FB friends that it doesn’t matter what he tells these kids. .  They just won’t listen to him, and they insist on making the same mistakes he has.  His friends, of course, feel real sorry for him.  They tell him that kids will be kids, and you just can only do so much.

Blocked.  You are officially blocked, buddy.  I don’t know why you were in my life to begin with, but you are now out of my life.  For good.  I don’t have the courage to tell you what I’m really thinking, but I do have the courage to block you.  I’m gutsy like that.

You know what wisdom is?  Wisdom is the opposite of  this guy.  This guy knows his choices are bad.  He said it.  He knows it.  He knows is his kids are making the same mistakes.

Once you know you have a problem, the obvious next step is doing something about it, right?  RIGHT?  Oh no, no.  Not for some people.  Some people want to pretend their current difficult circumstances are a coincidence.  Then, they want to do something else that makes me do rash and crazy things, like blocking people.  They want to feel sorry for themselves.  NOOOOO!!!!!

You canNOT feel sorry for yourself for suffering the consequences of the poor choices you have knowingly made.  No, you can’t.  Well, you can, but you shouldn’t.

You CAN try to fix it.  You CAN get help.  You CAN be straight up and honest about it, but you CANNOT feel sorry for yourself.    Don’t do it.   If you insist on feeling sorry for yourself, then I must insist on not listening to you.  So, there’s my rant on that. I have a mean side.

4th of July.  Was yours awesome?  Mine really was.  Wisconsin/Iowa weather = awesome!!!  I love my family and Scott’s family.  They make me laugh, and they are so fun.  We were able to see both sides of the family this year.

Scott was feeling extra jovial and festive.  We were in Sheboygan.  Most of the family enjoyed some delicious (expensive) ice cream from a trendy shop down by the lake.    Scott outsmarted that plan though.  On the way back to the house we pulled into McDonalds.  He said the ice cream was AS good at McDonalds, and a fraction of the cost of the trendy ice cream parlor ice cream.

Scott is always so responsible, except when he isn’t.  He ordered two chocolate dipped cones.  For himself.  I haven’t seen my husband do anything that irresponsible in years.  For real.  It made no sense.  One of the cones was melting a little before he was able to get to it.

I asked him what on Earth had gotten into him.  He said he just got carried away with all the festivities.   Sometimes you just do things and tell yourself you’ll worry about the consequences later.  So, that’s what he’s going to do.  And, when his kids get older and he sees them falling apart, ordering two cones for themselves on Independence day, he won’t feel sorry for himself.  He’ll say, “That’s on me.”

 

ice cream

 

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