Wednesday, September 2, 2009

I love going to my Happy Place! The most beautiful circumstances unfold when I'm in it. I started my day yesterday by doing something I've always been afraid to do; run in the dark and onto the gulf course behind my subdivision. I woke up in my Happy Place and ran out there in it as well. When the sun began to rise, I didn't want to stop running the greens. The view took my breath away. It was an incrediblly peaceful moment, and consequentally, another one of my Happy Places.

The first day of school was peaceful as well. I reminded my kids to go to their Happy Place when they felt any wrenching in their gut, or on the verge of a freak out. No major traumas or disappointments reported and they were pleased with their new least for now.

I love my Happy Place! The greatest moments come out of being in it, but why is it so frickin' hard to stay there, or even remember to go there when my kids won't get out of bed to get ready for school, or when there's homework to be completed, or when there's prevailing tantrums??? I think my Happy Place wants to hide from reality, too! Actually, that would be me wanting to hide from reality and I've let my mind take over trying to change what is.

Only day two into the school year, and Wyatt's anger meter exploded around 4:30 PM. I decided to get real curious about his outburst. I first engaged him in a little chase scene. Once I got him to laugh, his tention eased and we were able to poke around at what was eating his insides out. It started with fabrications of the truth told to him by someone he looks up to and ended up with an interrogation regarding...Santa! I led him to eventually answer his own querries. The tears flooded the kitchen and the dismay..."Everyone's been lying to me for 9 years! My teachers, you, everyone! OMG!" Then the Easter Bunny came up! More tears, more his very own mother! (Thankfully, St. Nick and the Tooth Fairy were not part of this conversation.) I didn't really even think about how I should respond, I just let the words flow, and they did so, beautifully. The subject of Santa is a Happy Place, after all! (I trust I'll be as blessed the day they decide to ask about blow jobs!)

A few more tears shed at bedtime, with a little better understanding of the "lie" we all tell, and intentions to wake up in our Happy Place.

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