Tag Kindness

What’s Your Word?, a Revisit to Resolutions

Chel Owens 48 Comments

‘Round-about the beginning of 2022, we said a bad word: resolutions. After washing our mouths out and sitting in timeout, I proposed a different approach to New Year’s Resolutions. The idea was to pick a word to summarize 2021 and a new one to begin 2022.

Last year’s word was Complete.

This, for 2022, is Control.

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Now that we’re halfway two-thirds of the way through the year, I wish to revisit and reassess my word. Have I taken control as I wished? Did I kick a few drivers out and steer this rocky minivan to destinations on my list?

I didn’t specifically state goals for fear they wouldn’t come true -but I had them. They included: to lose all the pregnancy weight (maybe even get back to my ideal!), find balance between tasks and leisure, remodel the freakin’ house, work a side job while the kids go to day care or school, get a handle on our budget, have a system for the housework, be kind, improve my momming of certain difficult offspring, and go to Europe with the family.

I’ve learned that stating resolutions isn’t a masochistic practice meant to trigger a depressive spiral involving Bunny Tracks ice cream. It’s a form of accountability, like a gym buddy.

Photo by Annushka Ahuja on Pexels.com

In that sense, you are all my swolemates. So, how did I do?

  1. Lose the pregnancy weight.
    Thanks to a group diet challenge from March 27th till May 22, I lost 30 pounds. That was also thanks to MyFitnessPal, personal dedication, and Kevin’s support. My graph has looked like a cardiogram over the summer, but I managed to drop another 15. I went from 195 in March to a record low of 149.8 in August.
  2. Find balance between tasks and leisure.
    This may be a lifetime task. I have given myself much more grace, pausing in the day for ten minutes on a quick app game or for a couple of hours to read a book.
  3. Remodel the freakin’ house.
    The house we moved to has several building code violations. It needed immediate changes, like cement poured in the basement and a furnace put in. We also have eight people crammed into three bedrooms.
    We’ve poured the floor, installed HVAC, filled a giant dumpster five times, worked on framing a room downstairs for the business, and met with an architect to draw up our dream plans. Let’s see if we’re up to code by this time next year!
  4. Work a side job and farm out the kids.
    Since school began on August 25th, I’m a cafeteria worker again. Costs do not match up, however, so I’ll be dropping that and trying something more financially sound.
  5. Get a handle on our budget.
    This is also an ongoing task. Life’s expensive.
  6. Be kind.
    Don’t say anything, Geoff.
  7. Improve my momming with the difficult ones.
    My poor kids. Maybe I can try a knot around one finger. I think I’ll always feel this needs work, but I can certainly put more effort here -like, try not to snap at them after interrupting this blog post for the umpteenth time.
  8. Go to Europe with the family.
    Kevin and I talked about doing this …up until meeting with contractors about the cost of remodeling this old house. We will set our sights a little lower and save for a one-time drive out to Disney World next year. Maybe we can stay with family on the way.

Despite the massive word load above, I’m a private person. But I’m trying an unstated resolution to not be embarrassed at being my own cheerleader. Self-confidence and all that, right?

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So, publicly or privately, I encourage you to do the same. Look over your year (if you had a word or no) and see how things have come along. Have you accomplished what you wished?

There’s still time, though even that is proving more fleeting and precious as I age.

—–

Week in review:

Thursday, September 1: “Welcome Back!”
AND The Terrible Poetry Contest beginning. Please enter. Please please please please…

Friday, September 2: Friday Photo. Take Meowt.

Saturday, September 3: A poem for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday.

Sunday, September 4: Quote by Maryam Hasnaa.

Monday, September 5: Mormon Monday: I dress modestly; and fancy, for church.

Tuesday, September 6: “That Ole Road of Life, I Think“

Wednesday, September 7: Today.

©2022 Chel Owens

A Liberal’s Rant, a poem

Chel Owens 15 Comments

Here’s another side, for the A Mused Poetry Contest, due THIS FRIDAY! You can enter, too! I know you can!

Rap it Up and Give to the Homeless

My neighbor’s flying a MAGA flag.
He’s also saying, “Death to Fags,”
But he isn’t smoking nor feeling tired.
For, all that redneck has conspired
To do is add more barb-tipped wire
‘Round ‘No Warning Shot’ signs he’s acquired
And smugly telling all who’ll hear
That COVID’s nothing we should fear.
I wish someone would tell the fool
That Commies don’t run all the schools;
It’s teachers, risking life and limb
To teach his half-brained kith and kin.

And why must Dr. Fauci ask
The idiots like him to mask?
While nurses, doctors; movie stars
Are worried, daily, of this SARS.
The numbers don’t look good, you see
-At least, until this presidency.
My half of this united nation
Has fin’lly kicked Th’Abomination
The last four years have been a s*it-ler
While we’ve been run by worse-than-Hitler.

But, as I said, that’s all behind us;
No longer divided, we’ll work toward kindness.

Make America Kind Again Yard Sign Printed 2-Sided 24x18 or image 0
Available for sale on Etsy.com

©2021 Chelsea Owens

Don’t Burn Bridges in Life (Seriously)

Chel Owens 40 Comments

I consider myself a nice person. You know, publicly.

I feel that every human deserves to be treated like a human. I talk to every human like a human. I see no point in drawing class distinctions, boundaries of pride, nor ‘necessary’ ostracizations of certain peoples.

Besides this natural bent toward non-jerkiness, I’ve found polite treatment imperative to future conversations and relationships.

What do I mean?

I refer to the old adage to “not burn your bridges.” In my younger and more foolish days I thought I would never see most of the humans around me again. Others’ comments about “high school doesn’t matter,” “everyone makes mistakes,” and my young tendency to not consider the future all contributed to that mindset. Don’t get me wrong -I was and have always been a precocious thing. Even given that, I assumed I wouldn’t have to face the people I met at a future date.

That perspective also had help from there being no Facebook at the time…

Fortunately, I only used my ignorance a handful of times. I slipped up at work, wrote a scathing note to some girls in junior high school, typed up a fiery e-mail to someone I barely knew once, and had an embarrassing exchange with a friend in my twenties.

I do not write about keeping one’s bridges intact because of a big mistake. I write, instead, from times in which I’ve realized the error of my perspective from positive situations.

Two years ago, for example, a teacher at my children’s school asked me if I’d want to do content writing for a relative of hers. I took the job and worked at it for 9 months. That position gave me necessary professional experience for a writer’s resume, plus a relationship with someone still working in writing fields.

Through a love of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, I started a blog named A Wife, My Verse, and Every Little Thing. I saw others who referenced this trilogy, formed friendships, and was even invited to help judge a contest over at The Carrot Ranch.

A girl I babysat grew up and was babysitter to my own children. The daughter of my husband’s former CEO tended our two-year-old for a few weeks when I had my last C-Section. A good friend, looking for part-time work, ran our dice store for nearly a year. Just last week, I joked about my children with another random mother at Costco; and she called me by name and remembered we’d been college roommates.

No, we don’t “never see” people again. People live a long time. (You know, usually.) People know other people. People are related to someone you might work with, dated a guy you got angry with online, or taught preschool to the person bagging your groceries.

We are all connected, in The Circle of Life. It’s beautiful.

On that note, how have you seen this phenomenon in your life? Did you run into an old flame? Get hired by a former acquaintance’s relative? Accidentally cut off your elementary teacher? What happened?

—————-

Check out what I wrote this week:
Wednesday, September 11: Wrote about what I like about where I live in “Welcome to Utah; Wanna Stay?.”

Thursday, September 12: Posted “A Tribute to Frank Prem.” Check out his site and his poetry!

Friday, September 13: Winner of the Weekly Terribly Poetry Contest. Congratulations to Joem18b and Tiredhamster!

Saturday, September 14: Announced the 43rd Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. The theme is a free-verse poem about secondhand sales. PLEASE ENTER!

Also, “The Problem with Being Karen;” a three paragraph story about Karen, a victim of her name.

Sunday, September 15: “The Stupidity of the Sexes,” in response to Carrot Ranch‘s prompt.

Monday, September 16: “Wilhelmina Winters, One Hundred Four.”

Tuesday, September 17: An inspirational quote by Hugh Laurie.

Also, “Celebrities with Mental Health Issues: Dwayne Johnson” over at The Bipolar Writer Collaborative Mental Health blog.

Wednesday, September 18: Today.

I also posted all this week at my motherhood site. I wrote “Kids and Credit Cards (The Magic Money),” “We Don’t Point Guns at People,” and “Happy Hour for Parenting.”

 

©2019 Chelsea Owens

Chel Owens 2 Comments

“We who make stories know that we tell lies for a living. But they are good lies that say true things, and we owe it to our readers to build them as best we can. Because somewhere out there is someone who needs that story. Someone who will grow up with a different landscape, who without that story will be a different person. And who with that story may have hope, or wisdom, or kindness, or comfort.

“And that is why we write.”

-Neil Gaiman, Newbery Medal acceptance speech for The Graveyard Book at the annual conference of the American Library Association in Chicago, July 12, 2009.

Chel Owens 2 Comments

“Every single person goes through something in their lives. No one gets a free pass from grief or depression or just plain bad luck. We all suffer in some way. But we need to soldier on. Because that’s what life is: tunneling through the shit to find the gold.

“But sometimes we need help, we need someone to hand us the shovel. Please  go to a qualified shovel specialist. There are people out there that can and will help. Know that there really are people who care.

“And to everyone else- remember- sometimes all that’s needed is a kind word. Sometimes telling someone that you are there is enough. Remind yourself that everyone else might not be as happy as you are. A little kindness goes a long way.”

Waking Up on the Wrong Side of 50: “Everybody Matters“