I fell off my well-worn horse so to speak. I’m usually galloping along with my annoyingly positive attitude but the hits seem to have kept on coming lately, knocking me to the ground every time I stood back up. So I simply crouched low for awhile, whimpering and fussing and realizing that I was boring myself to bits.

So I hopped back on the horse, am trying again to maintain my sunny disposition; to name it, claim it and frame it.

Yesterday I’d had an agency that is usually helpful make me cry. Someone who wasn’t in charge prevented my usual procedures. I was irked, but I smiled and said, “Ok, thanks,” got in my van and drove away, but I cried in frustration. I was alone, no kids saw me and I composed a rude email in my head all the way home. Fortunately God made me not type it out. Instead I felt, in my spirit, to just take it, to deal with it internally, and let it go. I went outside like I usually do, and weeded for hours until I felt better.

I’ve literally worn out Craftsman spading forks, maybe 4 in the last decade, they come with a lifetime guarantee, they are supposed to last, but they must not have had an adoptive mama in mind…Sears always replaces it for me,, for free when I bring both pieces in sheepishly.

If I can’t demonstrate to my children how to properly deal with anger and frustration, then I’m doing them a disservice. One son, now 16, used to run up and down the stairs until he was exhausted, telling me, “Mom, I’m just getting my energy out.” Other kids jump hard on the trampolines, indeed we’ve destroyed several of them also, springs flying across the meadow in protest.

So yesterday I took it on the chin once again, telling the kids that it wouldn’t have done any good for me to act crazy because I didn’t get my way. Oh well, life goes on.

Today the director of that agency got wind of what happened yesterday and called me personally to make it right. I didn’t complain about any staff member there, I just acted like it was OK, why not? Why make a problem for someone just because they were wrong? How would that make me a better person?

Heck yeah I wanted to do so, to pitch a hissy fit, but maybe, finally in my fifties I’m maturing enough to do the right thing more often and, more importantly, to demonstrate it to my children.