Change can be uncomfortable. Who wants to wrestle with the ugly, painful, and awkward process of adaptation? And so, with our primitive lizard brains, we avoid it.
It’s a normal reaction. But just because that’s our reaction doesn’t mean we have to live with it. Our ability to work through change – and grow because of it – can bring us to better places. (Did you see Deadpool?)
Filed under Open Notebook
Well — this day was bound to come. Truthfully, I should be happy. This must mean that I’ve attained some legitimacy as a writer. Now what?
Filed under Open Notebook
Happy day to all those folks worthy of today’s accolades. Today my wife let me sleep in, the Goon brought me two pieces of toast to wake me up, I was happy to receive a number of homemade or store-bought gifts, the C-Dog mowed the lawn, and my darling wife graciously allowed me to sneak out of the house this afternoon to visit a favorite brewery/restaurant. A day doesn’t get better than this!
Filed under Open Notebook
I logged onto WordPress’s blog today to read the challenge. Hey- excellent! Free writing exercise. Write whatever I want, huh? Just write for 20 minutes. Easy peasey, lemon squeezy.
Except, what about the quality of what I write? That seems awfully open-ended. I don’t know if I’ve ever sat down to write something and not known what I wanted to tell before I started writing.
Filed under Open Notebook
My wife and I have executed the SINGLE GREATEST SURPRISE in the history of our family. For the last two months, we’ve been planning an epic family vacation. We were going to take the kids to Walt Disney World.
Easter Sunday was the day and the secret was unspoiled. We enlisted the 15-year old, AKA C-Dog, in the weeks leading up to the trip. Great job all the way around. The trip to Walt Disney World (AKA Whiskey-Delta-Whiskey, Walter D. White’s house, or some other codeword designed for maximum OpSec against the elementary school crowd) remained a surprise until we woke the Noodle and the Goon (ages 7 and 5, respectively) Easter morning and told them to get dressed because they were going to see Mickey Mouse.
My wife (the Queen) and I had sketched out a broad plan for the actual travel. Flying on Southwest, our seats were not assigned. We figured that we would each pair up with one of the little guys and allow the C-Dog to sit with either of us. (Or 15 rows away, if his brothers had really annoyed him on the drive to the airport.) As it turned out once we got on the plane, my traveling companion was the Goon. Oh boy.
Filed under Essays
TMPinSYR 