Before: Boring Task List
Using Zazzle to make images to help me focus or get inspired, is one of my “jams”, I don’t buy them, I 1. personalize with edit and 2. then take a screen shot via “print screen”, 3. paste to sketchpad.io (via control + v) and viola, I have a more inspiring picture that is still clear.
After: Fun Inspiring Task List
Living Stoic Quotes: Week 34
“Nothing is burdensome if taken lightly, and nothing need arouse one’s irritation so long as one doesn’t make it bigger than it is by getting irritated.”– Seneca
My daughter just let me know she liked the pirate show she went to yesterday, at 6:45 AM, she let me know she wanted cereal at 6:45 AM… it makes me mad actually, because she is damn loud and other people are trying to sleep.
But I should take it lightly, I should remember she is five years old. Five year olds should be annoying and she is, so great, everything fine here.
Take it lightly… not don’t pretend it’s not annoying, but yes, take it lightly that it is annoying.
Take It Easy
– The Eagles
Don’t let the sound of your own wheels
Drive you crazy. Lighten up while you still can
Don’t even try to understand.
Just find a place to make your stand…
– Bobby McFerrin
“In every life we have some trouble
But when you worry you make it double
The landlord say your rent is late
He may have to litigate
Don’t worry, be happy.”
Todo aquel que piense que la vida siempre es cruel (Anyone thinking that life is always cruel)
Tiene que saber que no es así (Needs to know that it’s not like that)
Que tan solo hay momentos malos (That those are only bad moments)
y todo pasa. (And everything passes)
Todo aquel que piense que esto nunca va a cambiar (Anyone thinking this will never change)– Úrsula Hilaria Celia Caridad Cruz Alfonso
Tiene que saber que no es así (Needs to know)
Que al mal tiempo, buena cara, y todo cambia. (At a bad moment, have a good outlook, and everything changes)
Seneca’s statement that “Nothing is burdensome if taken lightly,” doesn’t say that it is easy to do that or that nothing irritating or bad happens in life, but that making it a bigger irritation will make it worse. It doesn’t say, you have to smile, you have to like it, you have to find a good in it, it just says don’t make it worse on yourself.
One thing that helps me not get irritated with the kids is “Father Forgets”,
“Listen, son; I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily I came to your bedside.
There are things I was thinking, son: I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face merely a dab with a towel. I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when you threw some of your things on the floor.
At breakfast, I found fault, too. You spilled things. You gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand and called, “Goodbye, Daddy!” and I frowned, and said in reply, “Hold your shoulders back!”
Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came Up the road, I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles. There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before you boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to the house. Stockings were expensive – and if you had to buy them you would be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father!
Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how you came in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes? When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption, you hesitated at the door. “What is it you want?” I snapped.
You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms tightened with an affection that God had set blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither. And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs.
Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding – this was my reward to your for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.
And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed!
It is a feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: “He is nothing buy a boy – a little boy!”
I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother’s arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too much.”– W. Livingston Larned
But oh how fast I forget the feeling I have when I read that and go back to being irritated that my kids yell at me, ask for things they know are against the rules over and over, vie for attention, bicker over the smallest toy, refuse to use the toilet and then have an accident…
Part of it is that I hate it when they act dumb, and I don’t just let myself hate it. I don’t say internally, yep they are acting dumb again because their brains are like 50-70% functional so far… I try so hard to repress my truth that it keeps amplifying until I can’t ignore the truth of what I am feeling.
If I admit I hate kids acting normally in annoying ways it seems like I hate kids, and if I do hate kids I have two, and then if I hate kids and have two, I must not be good at making big decisions…
So either I’m not good at making big decisions or I hate kids… yet I think everyone really hates kids. Or most people. If most people didn’t hate kids there wouldn’t be 55 and older housing, that’s just there to avoid people raising young kids or who are young adult (older kids, the brain is “adult” at 26).
Yes we all hate kids, that’s why we don’t let them be many places that would be safe for them. Perhaps we also love kids, but the evidence of hating them is the children’s section at the library… go to your own section kids, despite your reading level, just go there.
Why do we old people hate kids? The noise is the big thing. Not all kids are noisy, but with no recourse to yell at, hit, kill, or explain to loud kids that are not your kids, kids have the power to interrupt peace and quiet pretty easily.
I really like quiet, but I was foolish in that as a quiet person I thought I would naturally have quiet kids, I was wrong. Very wrong.
So each time my kids are loud I see my own stupidity of thinking they would be quiet, I also don’t see how to fix the problem I’ve created for myself.
Kids tend to be happy being loud and be loud when they are happy, I tend to be happy when the environment is quiet and be quiet when I am happy.
So, it’s my fault and I don’t have a solution, but I shouldn’t take it out on the kids, they didn’t ask to be born into my family.
Maybe I’ll just keep earplugs on all day and tell them to email me if they have any questions?
One thing is that they will grow up, the little one is two, I’m guessing at six they will be decently not annoying, so four more years perhaps of almost non-stop annoying behavior I hate. Yet it’s my own fault and I will try to remember not to make it bigger than it is, because it will just be worse on me that way, which in a way is worse on everyone.
Note to self: Illegitimi non carborundum.
🧠 Neuroscience 🤯
Neuroscience – Mild Irritation would trigger the amygdala but as the hypothalamus shifts into a rage where thinking and well being diminish. Of course it’s more complicated because the hypothalamus does so much, love, happiness, lactation, rage and more… but there is a real shift from a bit irritated to rage and that is not a deeper shade of gray, but a whole different animal best avoided most of the time, or when logic is needed. 🧠