This week has been an interesting one. On Tuesday a medical problem that I had hoped had gone away (actually I knew it wouldn’t have gone away but didn’t address it since it hadn’t reared it’s ugly head… very “if I can’t see you, you can’t see me” of me) resurfaced and made me finally have to think about what the next step was going to be. It was a bummer and I went home and buried my head in cashew butter, as I sometimes do (guess my relationship with food is as strong as ever!). As always though, my family swooped right in and made it not feel so daunting.
Yesterday, my dad was coming through town and it couldn’t have been better timing. We look the train together into the city and then met M for dinner. It was good to spend time with him and have an awesome meal. While he will always be my parent, in recent years he feels like a friend too… Except when I frantically call him after being rear ended for the 8th time or texting him to see if I would get a disease from holding a bird…then he is mostly dad. Our similar personalities were at times the cause of us butting heads when I was younger but are now why we are so close. Even though we have very similar personalities, he does not get nearly as stressed out as I do….Sound familiar? Similar to me and M? Classic, daughter marrying someone similar to her father. Is that weird?
Anywho. I realized it when we were both talking about work. When he is in high stress situations, he is as cool as a cucumber. When I am in high stress situations I look as cool as a cucumber (minus my eyes maybe being a bit more bulgy) but inside my heart is going a million miles a minute and I have sweat through my outfit. I don’t know when that happened to me. I used to be so chill and now I am like a windup toy. Watching home videos my brother would be swinging from the rafters and I would be quietly sitting, organizing my mother’s food cabinet. There is literally a video of us at the park where my brother is running around jumping off of every slide and jungle gym and the camera pans to me, the slug on the ground with my mother prodding me begging me to do something for the camera. I begrudgingly grab a tricycle and slide down the hill, not even pedaling, just letting my legs drag alongside until I finally run into the wall at the bottom of the hill. It also used to be pointless to try and discipline me because I would be sent to my room and end up joyfully singing to myself and playing barbie dolls. Now if I feel like I have done something wrong or disappointed anyone, I angst over it until I make it right. Funny how much we can change over time. Who knew I would one day aspire to be like my 3 year old self?