I am doing Friday right! I am reading a magazine (the luxury) while the kids are being quiet and/or napping.  I am additionally excited to stumble on an article about storytelling–one of my greatest joys!  Apparently, there is an emerging field of “narrative psychology” that goes a bit like this: the ways and words we use to tell our stories, shape our thinking.  Ok, cool.

But then they went here:

“You can try this kind of story edit yourself.  Totally lost it with your kids after the third Popsicle accident of the day? Instead of thinking, ‘I’m a terrible mother for making my kids cry,’ try a more charitable interpretation: ‘Parenting little kids is a tough job for everyone.  Now who wants to play with the hose!’  (Real Simple, pg 100, October 2017)

I am lost now.  Really lost.  So lost that I had to put down the magazine and start typing this blog.  First question, why were there three Popsicle incidents?  Does that mean you have triplets? Does that mean your kids walked in three times while you were sneaking a Fudgesicle?  Did you go to the store three times and forget the popsicles all three times?  That’s all I have got on this imaginary scenario. I am clueless.  Three Popsicle incidents? I mean do we have to give Popsicles three strikes now?

Ok, moving on.  The way to “reinterpret” or change the voice of the “narrator” in our own minds is to move from popsicle fiasco to the hose.  I can think of no WORSE way to re-set.  Years ago I read a book about Mom Rage.  Not mom frustration or PMS, but actual, factual rage.  One of the greatest takeaways of that book, was that I identified the hose as one of my rage triggers.  Now, I know I seem like a free-spirited, fun-loving type, and those things are true, but my kids playing with the hose, brings out the beast in me, and it is not pretty.  So, I CANNOT BELIEVE that a Narrative Psychologist that has ever spoken with a live woman with actual children would suggest that playing in a hose is the answer to a bad day.  If you are reading this blog and thinking, playing in the hose after a terrible day is an awesome idea! You are cordially invited over to my house for hose time.  Because any goat rodeo, cockamamie, one-in-a-million go wrong scenario that you NEVER in your wildest dreams could conceive WILL happen in under 17 minutes once the hose is on.  Someone will shatter glass with sheer water pressure.  Huh? How is that possible? It is.  Another person will somehow soak and disable electronics that are inside the house, behind closed doors.  Wait a second, how could that? It will.  And bloodshed. There will be bloodshed.  Absolute, guaranteed bloodshed. Yeah, that’s the way to really re-write your day.

If I had some more time and didn’t have a naked, potty-training toddler that just walked downstairs done with nap time,  I would have all manner of “edits” to share with you.  But maybe I will just see you in person, and I can narrate my story live.  Shout out to the ladies I was with yesterday when I had to pee in full view of a cute young lady doing yoga and a house right behind me, and to the countless folks that heard my 3 year old SCREAMING about how she would NOT take off her poopy underwear because she might see her poop.  I’m just gonna go turn on the hose now.