Channeling my inner toddler

My parents hosted paella night last night at their condo. Just us, my brother’s family, and some good friends with their kids. All told, five young boys under the age of eleven, three of them two and under. I now really understand that saying “I’d Rather Be 40 Than Pregnant.” I will be 40 in six short months, and yeah, I’d say that ole’ saying is dead-on correct. The boys were all wonderful, but I’m reallyreallyreally glad my diaper/childproofing/NONONONONONONO!!!! days are behind me. Well, except for the NONONONONONO!!!! part; we still get that here, they just have a more developed vocabulary with which to express extreme displeasure.

But something occurred to me last night, watching two two-year-olds fly around the condo reveling in their two-ness. They sure as hell know what they want and don’t want, have no problem letting you know, and if you don’t like it, that’s really your problem now, isn’t it? I need a lot little more of that in my life. I have a hard time saying no, especially to myself. If it’s something I want to learn or read or do, or an experience that would be good for me, or an opportunity that might maybe someday end up in The Glorious Land of Real Grownup Employment, I say yes. Never mind that I don’t have time for it, or that it would take time away from something else, or that I would inevitably end up a sodden mess of stress when all of the brown hits the air circulating device at the same time, or that I never ever ever allow myself any down time…I say yes.

I need guidance, a NONONONONONO!!!! life coach, if you will. An inner curmudgeon, protecting me from myself, for my own good. For example:

Oh, I could do a book review on

 

Hey, I could do this volunteer thingamajig for J’s classroom. I always feel like he’s getting shorted because

Ok, I need to watch these TED talks, they look really inspirational and

But…

How about…

Dammit! I just want to

Fine. I give. How about I say no to everything that comes my way until May or I get this overwhelmed scream out of the back of my throat, whichever comes first?

My inner curmudgeon is a real bitch.