I absolutely loved playing Monopoly as a kid. Whenever given the chance, I would eagerly take on the roles of the banker and property distributor.
Fast forward to today, and I found myself practically skipping from the Seattle Credit Union bank’s app to the IRS app earlier to pay my quarterly taxes, diligently documenting it all on my expense spreadsheet. Money has a much lighter and more carefree vibe these days, resembling a game of tiddlywinks.
Budgeting is a powerful tool, and it truly works. Speaking of which, I recently checked my Mint account and realized I need to remove myself from the YMCA membership. That $40 a month is becoming a significant drain on our finances.
I took the next step in redecorating the guest room by calling Lowe’s and Home Depot to inquire about who could cut the thinnest strips of plywood. Home Depot won with a measurement of 6 inches. However, when I arrived at the store, the lumber guy told me they only had 12-inch strips. I mentioned my phone call, and he recognized it was me. He admitted that he had disagreed with the information but would honor the initial measurement. It turned out to be quite an undertaking!
As we lined up the 30-40 strips in the cart, I noticed that some measured 5 inches while others measured 6 inches. It’s a relatively inexpensive project, so the slight variation in size doesn’t bother me. Dave had a clever idea of alternating between the 5-inch and 6-inch strips, which will ultimately look just fine.
This is the part of a project that I struggle with. It’s no longer the exciting beginning; it’s the meticulous work of sanding the edges, aligning everything perfectly, and double-checking every detail to ensure the end result matches my original vision. It’s the hard work involved, which probably kept me away from projects like this in the past.
I find myself feeling frustrated with Dave, but deep down, I know it’s more likely frustration with myself. When I get caught up in the stress of a parenting moment and start scrutinizing Dave for doing something wrong, I feel the need to say something. But is it really necessary in those moments? It reminds me of how my mom used to get at my dad, and I despised it. It becomes a tangled mess of emotions.
In those instances, I’ve realized that I need to walk away. When I notice that disapproving voice within me saying, “He did that?” I consciously step back. Not in a huff or with discontentment, but with a simple, “Hey, I’ll be back in a sec.” I’ll take purposeful breaths to calm myself, to distract my mind, to think about anything else. I’ll allow myself to float into the ease of the clouds and the gentle breeze, reconnecting with something that can ground me again.
Perhaps I’ll even take some time to visualize myself successfully making that shift in those challenging moments, reinforcing my understanding of when I need to do it.
Alright, cool. I’m glad we got that sorted out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go apologize to Dave.
Take care. Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 