What do you do when the day or week starts off badly or a poor choice sends you spiraling out of control? Grab that crazy bull by the horns and save your own damn day, that’s what. Here are three easy ways to turn around a bad day:
Focus on taking ONE positive action right now.
We’ve all tried to declutter our homes at some point. Clean out that junk drawer where ten thousand things are jumbled together or sort through that closet housing clothes you haven’t worn in years. It can feel totally overwhelming to even start so where do you begin?
Pro organizers always say that when you’re trying to declutter an area that overwhelms you, to focus on ONE thing. Meaning, just do one drawer, one countertop, one closet, etc.. Then move on to another one. And another. And another. Quickly, you start seeing some progress and the next task doesn’t seem quite as overwhelming!
How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time!
These same principles can apply to days when things seem to be going all wrong. Did you miss the morning workout you really wanted to get in? Choose to make your next meal a healthy one. Did you yell at the kids more than you would have liked at breakfast? Take a few minutes to connect with them later today or consider apologizing for not responding in the way you wanted.
Take one tiny step in a positive direction and see just how good that can make you feel. Just don’t give up on yourself because a moment didn’t go exactly how you planned it.
Accept things out of your control.
Then there are just some things, ok a LOT of things, that you just won’t be able to control. Like your partner picking a hobby that you hate, or your kid needing to go to the bathroom the very INSTANT you have to leave the house to be somewhere on time. Take a deep breath, let it go, and focus on the things you CAN control.
Once, on a vacation with my three kids and mom, I misread the time our flight was supposed to leave LAX by nearly an hour! We arrived at the airport with only a few minutes to get everyone checked in and through security before the flight took off EXCEPT that I still had to return our rental car.
I began to feel the lump forming in my throat and panic washing over me. I took a deep breath and quietted my mind. There was nothing I could do at this point. I had made a mistake, yes, but now all I could do was try to rectify it. I finally understood what it meant to cry over spilled milk. My tears weren’t going to clean up the milk and they sure weren’t going to get me on that flight.
I sent my mom off with my kids to catch the flight while I did everything that I could in my power to return the car and get back to them.
Most of it was out of my control. I couldn’t make traffic move any faster so I could get to the (OFFSITE!!? WTF?!) rental car facility. I couldn’t control the fact that I had to wait for (OMG ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!) passengers to board (THE SLOWEST MOVING) shuttle bus back to the terminal. I took a deep breath, sat in the front, and settled into an eerie, zen-like state. I resigned myself to the fact that I was missing my flight and took solace in knowing that my mom and kids had made it.
Miraculously, only two and a half minutes later, we arrived at the terminal and my trance snapped. Back in control, it was time to hustle. I walked quickly towards the TSA agents and explained my situation but I still kept calm. I spoke in a normal voice and I didn’t start crying, which often happens to me in stressful moments like this. I was trying not to turn into that girl, loudly yelling “EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME! MY FLIGHT IS LEAVING!! MY FLIGHT IS LEAVING!” while pushing her way to the front of the line. Nope, it was out of my control at this point.
Maybe another five minutes later, I arrived at my gate to find… a line of people still boarding my flight. I had made it! The flight was running a few minutes late and we all had made it.
I still can’t believe how lucky I was at that moment. It took me SEVEN AND A HALF MINUTES to go from terminal drop off to gate! a World Record, I’m certain, lol.
I was so grateful and most importantly, relieved and really damn proud of myself for keeping calm.
Resign yourself to the things you cannot control. Because it is the things you can control that will make the biggest difference in your day and in your life.
Connect with a stranger.
Finally, you can easily turn around a bad day by creating a connection with someone. Of course, connecting with people is generally the opposite of what anyone wants to do, myself included. But here’s a little trick, try connecting with a stranger.
We put a lot of pressure on ourselves as moms to have our TISH together all the time and that’s just not reality. When we lose our cool or aren’t having a great day, the last thing we want to do is admit that to people we are close to.
Now, Brene Brown and all the “experts” will tell you that this is actually the moment when you want to be open and vulnerable and connect with those you love most like your spouse, family, or close friends.
I tend to behave like a child when my day starts off poorly or things aren’t going my way and I distance myself from others. Connecting with someone close to me can seem like extra work at that moment so, instead, I connect with a stranger.
I make some small talk or crack a joke in the grocery line. I let someone go ahead of me. I compliment the Starbucks Barista on her earrings. I might ask the doorman at an office building how their weekend was.
It’s not a remarkable or remotely memorable conversation and it takes all of thirty seconds. But often, connecting with a stranger for a few moments gives me exactly enough time to “flip” all the switches in my crabby brain back to the right setting! So then, when I am back in a moment with my loved ones, I want to connect with them!
Prince Charming isn’t coming to save the day, mama. But you can save your own day with these easy tricks.
Spin spin spin. Six hours of spin. Every. single. day. Spin spin spin. Six hours of spin. That’s what “back to school” time looks like for me.
Six hours. Four days a week. Six hours to change the world. Get my life (and theirs) in order. Plan. Prepare. Run. Rest. Repeat. Faster. More.
Six hours alone. To focus. To work. To relax. To connect. To welcome everyone back after six hours as the absolute best version of myself so that I can bring out the best versions of themselves. Do it all. Make it all. Fold it all. Clean it all. Reset it all. Renew it all.
Six hours is what I get.
I don’t feel relieved when they leave. I feel pressure. The gunshot has gone off. The race has begun. I’m not clinking mimosas with friends. I’m scrambling to get home to clean up breakfast, down another cup of coffee, and maybe guilt myself into a quick work out. Don’t forget to note it all in the pretty planner.
Get it over with. Move on with it. Faster. Hurry. Move. Six hours.
I just want to drive away. Because when those six hours ends, I’m angry. Frustrated. I want more time. It’s not enough. Never enough. I didn’t get it all done. But yet it’s time. Time for me to be “on” again for everyone.
All the hats go piling back on. They are heavy and uncomfortable. Awkward and always half-on and half-falling off. “Hold onto your hats,” I say to my kids in the car when we make a turn. Who am I kidding, I’m the only one that needs to be holding on. Tight.
All the hats. The happy mom, the sweet mom, the “just made these for you, sweetheart” mom, the firm but fair mom, the “bad guy” mom, the enforcer mom, the master chef, the cleaning lady, the nurse, the sort-of-your-friend but not-really-your-friend mom, oh and don’t forget supportive, doting, SEXY wife.
Six hours until the show begins. Where’s my understudy?
There is quiet in these six hours yet my head is so very loud. Annoyed. Angry. Pounding. Irritated by everything. Paralyzed to inaction. Long sigh. Take another swig of coffee, you’re going to need it.
I don’t get it. Yet I do. This is all my own doing. 1000% So why is it so hard to undo? Why is it so hard to just stop? Turn it off. “Stop thinking about the things that are making you feel this way! YOU ARE IN CONTROL!” I silently scream to myself.
I want to blame them, anyone, someone, for making me feel this way. Making me. But it’s a painful thing when I realize that it’s nobody’s fault but my own. I’m in control yet completely out of control here. So I spin spin spin. Six hours of spin.
Forget the cute photos of kids with signs, this is what back to school actually looks like for me. And I don’t know about you, but this mom needs to be renewed again. In a bad way.
Hold onto your hats mama, school is back in session.
The title of this blog sounds like the beginning to, “If you give a Mouse a Cookie.” And, to be fair, it’s not that far off.
All this talk about needing self-care, I suppose that means we’re supposed to also be kind of supportive or something when our significant other wants a little self-care, right? I mean, the nerve. But fine. (Am I communicating the eye roll that’s about to make my head fall off my neck here?)
There’s something about becoming a mom has really turned on the “dream killer” in me. Meaning, if my husband has a dream, I’m ready to kill it.
I encourage my husband to take time for himself. Ok, I TRY to encourage my husband to take time for himself. Usually, that means that he takes a really long and really early morning bike ride with a friend or gets together with some college friends for drinks. Like once a quarter. It’s a one-off and very rarely consistent outing.
So, when he picked up an actual hobby several months ago, I was excited for him. At least I thought.
“I want to take flying lessons,” he casually brought up at dinner one night, in between bites of some keto-friendly casserole where cauliflower was costuming as a delicious carb. I smiled that fake smile you make when your husband has just said something insane and you’re trying not to lose your cool because you’re in a public place and don’t want to be “that crazy wife.” Also when you’re eating cauliflower posing as something delicious.
I smiled. “Um, what?” I responded.
“It’s just… something I’ve always wanted to learn.” he continued. “MY ENTIRE LIFE.”
My heart sank. GREAT. Those were not the words I wanted to hear. Now I wasn’t just about to crush an idea, I was crushing his DREAM. LIFE GOAL. CHILDHOOD AMBITION. Perfect.
Why do they do this to us? Was I really just supposed to say, “Ok honey, you go for it. Have fun! Fly away!”
I just didn’t understand why my husband, the father of three very young children, the owner of a successful business, our sole financial supporter, my best friend and partner and, well you get it, wanted to get into a tin can powered by a propeller and a prayer for no other reason other than “he wanted to.”
This was an INSANE idea. Immediately, my head went to “how much fricking’ time is this going to take?” followed by “are you going to die?” and “what does this cost?” Because you KNOW there are going to be expensive “accessories” involved. What great hobby doesn’t involve expensive accessories? Also, where are all the passwords I need to know stored?
“We can fly to different places together!” he said with excitement. He was serious.
My eyes widened. Hell. No.
At which point it dawned on me. I didn’t have to actually understand any of this. I didn’t have to understand or even really appreciate his interest; I just had to support him.
I didn’t really have a choice. This was what I signed up for, supporting someone through “tough times” which also meant “tough decisions” which apparently also included “you really want to do something that I hate!”
So, I let him fly. I had no choice.
I didn’t get it, nor did I really want to, to be honest. But I just couldn’t say no. Not to one of the few things he had actually asked for, himself.
Why should you say “yes” to your partner when they pick a hobby you hate?
Self-care is about finding things that fulfill you but also about saying “yes” to the things that fulfill the people you love. This is one of those things that, although it has nothing to do with me, I will reap the significant benefit.
He came home from his first lesson in the middle of the week. The kids were asleep and I was tired having had to bathe the tree of them alone. The dishwasher was whirring quietly and I was working on my laptop.
He walked into the door with a look of glee in his eye, and the giddiness of a little boy. He was eager and attentive to me, hopeful and energized, quick to do tasks I needed him to do. But mostly he just looked happy. And I wanted to see that look on his face again. Also, truthfully, I wanted to be the one that had given it to him.
So give your spouse that cookie. Just be prepared that he’s going to want a plane to go with it.
My husband picked up a hobby that I’m not so fond of, flying. More on how you let your spouse start a hobby you hate in a future blog post but, to keep my brain from thinking all kinds of sick thoughts every time he heads out for a lesson (TWICEAFUCKINGWEEK), I make inappropriate jokes to mask my fear.
I ask whether his insurance policy is up to date and if his important passwords are accessible to me, and whether he wants me to “waste” money on a casket when what he probably wants is a cool memorial with a lot of Careless Whisper, fireworks, and a good bbq. I also tell him that I plan to whitewash our red brick house the second he’s gone.
He’s a lucky guy to have a wife like me, I know.
But you can guess how sentimental I get about non-extraordinary moments in life. I’m kind of a tough crowd.
One night, recently, husband and I sat together and scrolled through old videos of our kids on our phones. All of a sudden, I found myself fighting back crocodile tears, partially because the videos were SO damn sweet but mostly because I didn’t actually remember those moments feeling sweet when I was actually living them. And some of those moments? It actually felt like it had happened to someone else.
What I did remember was feeling sad, tired, and frustrated. What I remember was spending a lot of time wishing the days would hurry up and pass. What I remember is yelling and wanting to run away. What I remember is feeling resentful because I wasn’t doing anything “important” that the world had noticed. What I remember is wishing they would hurry up and grow up.
But what I saw in those videos completely froze me. I couldn’t stop watching, because it brought me so much joy. But, honestly, it was like watching someone else’s life. A highlight reel in a movie. Who were these amazing kids?
Brothers giggling as they wrestled on a couch. The sloppy smiles of babies digging in the sand (and occasionally eating it). Siblings meeting each other for the first time at the hospital. Silly songs way past bedtimes. Mispronounced words. So many every day, ordinary moments that were just beyond special.
As I watched those videos, the shame spiral started. (I just love that Brene Brown phrase, “shame spiral.”) I really started to beat myself up. “How could you not SEE these beautiful babies? Why are you always focusing on the negative? Look at how amazing.”
I beat myself up and cried. I watched for over an hour and finally turned them off, well after midnight. The cry was therapeutic. I felt a release. And a strong desire to start looking at how I viewed those “everyday” moments with my kids.
I had been telling myself a story: that I was a serious mom, incapable of having fun on the regular. And that the opinion of others was what gave me worth. I had been chasing the extraordinary in the external. And that may have been okay, to a degree, if I could have also seen the extraordinary things happening right in front of me.
I decided then that those videos would be a gift. Or a slap in the face. An alarm clock waking me up to a new morning as a mom. Those videos gave me the chance to experience those moments again, this time with a new perspective.
I’m not going to sugar coat it and tell you to “seize the day” or “enjoy this time because they are only little for so long.” There are some rough days. A LOT of rough days, for some of us. But today is a new morning. And a new chance to see the ordinary moments in an extraordinary way.
If you find that you have some time for mindless scrolling today, skip your social media feed and scroll through the old videos and photos you’ve got on your phone. Just be sure to have a tissue on hand.
Guest Post by Carrie Koziol, Physical Therapist and Women’s Health Professional with Pilates by Carrie.
Sex As Self-Care? Buckle up!
Rarely do my girlfriends and I say phrases like “I got to have sex last night” or “I’m hoping to get lucky later on.”
On the contrary, we often joke that we “took one for the team” or some other phrase to indicate that we did a favor for our partners. This couldn’t be more true than in those tender post-baby months where any of us would have easily traded sex for 5 extra minutes of sleep or a hot shower. But sometimes those postpartum habits can spill over into the months (and maybe years) that follow, leaving our partners and ourselves feeling a little……disconnected.
So how can we jump start our sex life if it’s become stalled? Below I’ve outlined a few key steps. Most can be altered slightly to apply to heterosexual couples, same sex couples, those single ladies who shouldn’t miss out on the fun just because they don’t have a partner, and everyone in between!
Change your perspective, and start seeing sex as a gift to yourself.
Women who masturbated in an MRI machine (seriously, all props to the women that got off in that sterile tube while a bunch of scientists examined their brain waves), demonstrated that from first touch to ecstasy, the female brain lights up like the headlights on a Monster truck at night. But what is more interesting to me is what happens post-orgasm and has been described as “lights-out” in the brain. I don’t know about you, but my brain is a tangled web of constant thoughts and over-thoughts.
Even as I sit here at the café typing this out, I’ve had a million thoughts completely un-related to the task at hand: do I have a red onion at home for the salad I want to make tomorrow, these high-waisted jeans are great for keeping my belly at bay but they sure are digging in, did I let the dog out before I left, when will I pack for that trip we’re taking in 2 days, I wonder what that guy over there is working on, I wonder if anyone can see what I’m working on (gasp!), what if I’m attacked on the way to my car by someone who thinks I’m a sex-hungry prostitute. Sigh.
Orgasm is like taking an elicit drug to melt your mind without the horrible side effects. Maybe you can’t wrap that one up, but I think a quiet brain is one of the best gifts we ladies can offer ourselves!
If you’re running short on time, take a trip down memory lane. Talk about the moment you first met, your first date, what originally attracted you to each other, your first kiss. Give each other massages, hold hands, get close! If your partner is rolling their eyes, let them know what you’re up to. Explain that women sometimes need some deposits into their intimacy bank before they want to cash it in for sex.
Learn your own sexual accelerators and brakes.
Emily Nagoski, in her amazing book Come As You Are explains that sexual accelerators are sexually relevant stimuli (things you touch, taste, smell, hear, see) in your environment that tell your brain to tell your genitals to turn ON. Sexual brakes work the same but instead tell your genitals to turn OFF, and these two systems are at work in your subconscious scanning your environment for clues to see if this is a “sexy time.”
What gets your motor running? A juicy romance novel, silk sheets, getting away (hotel, bed and breakfast, etc), having your partner help with chores, cologne, a clean bedroom, candles, wine? What hits your brakes? Sounds from the kids outside your door (yup!), a long list of things to do around the house, bad breath or body odor, a messy bedroom? It is your job to find ways to hit your accelerator and limit your brakes.
Sadly most partners haven’t found ways to initiate sex in ways that get us revved up. Alternatively, some of us may be living with the parking brake on. Consider shifting into neutral so should our accelerators be pressed, we may be nudged in the right direction (see Step 5 below!)
Understand a woman’s lack of desire at the beginning of a sexual encounter.
Have you ever been in a situation with a loving partner, where you really weren’t in the mood for sex at the start? Sure maybe you were open to the idea but perhaps you were feeling just “meh” about it. Dr. Rosemary Basson analyzes the circular sexual response cycle and explains that with the appropriate accelerators and context, a woman might become aroused enough to experience sexual desire. Another example of shifting into the “neutral” zone to see where it takes you. This could be your one-way ticket to “O” town!
Try something new, light a candle, use a massage oil, update your bedroom attire, role play. I consulted with sex therapists and coaches to determine a tangible and inexpensive way to help take couples from zeros to heroes and to help them communicate and connect in a playful way.
Enter Chalk Talk! Chalk Talk is a double sided chalk board that allows couples to be more creative when initiating sex. When one partner is interested in sex, they will write something on the chalkboard (it could be a code word, a compliment, a date night itinerary) and leave it in a secret spot for their potential lover to see. This allows the non-initiator to make mental and physical plans to make it happen or to flip the chalkboard over and make a request of their own (please help with the dishes, only if you let me sleep in, …..but dinner first) or to kindly set a date in the future.
The Chalk Talk package comes with two surveys to fill out as a couple so you can learn (or re-learn) intimate details about you and your partner’s accelerators, brakes, and sexual preferences in a fun, nonthreatening way.
Navigating a sexual relationship whether it is a new street, a well-loved dirt road, or a recently re-surfaced highway is sure to present with some twists and turns. But you’ve got a beautiful “vehicle” and I promise the destination is worth the journey. If you’re ready, it’s the pedal on the right!