January 20, 2010
It’s easy to forget how amazing we are, right? Even if I have a general sense of what I’m good at or that I “help” people, I can forget about the specifics. I picked up my Strengths Finder book this morning because I was filling out an application which asked about my strengths. I remembered it being accurate and giving me good words that I hadn’t thought of to describe myself. I reread all of my 5 top strengths and had one of the most productive mornings I’ve had in a long time! I was so uplifted by the validating truths about me that I couldn’t help but work on a speech I’ve wanted to write. How do you not do something when you hear all the details about how great you are?! I was so clear-headed and confident all morning.
I encourage you to not only get this book (I get nothin’), but to find a resource to reference that fills you up and speaks the truth about you- the you that, at your purest, is nothing short of amazing. Remember, specifically, what makes you uniquely fantastic. Find those words and phrases that you can truly identify with and say, “Ya, that’s me”. Maybe you haven’t thought of that characteristic as valuable or unique but it is! How can you give that strength to the world in some way? (Big or small.)
www.strengthsfinder.com
Mine are:
Woo
Strategic
Activator
Relator
Communication
January 17, 2010
TRUTH: Is it true that you are confused about your next step? How do you know? What confuses you about it?
DARE: I dare you to pretend like you are feeling extra bold! Think in very simple terms and only consider your goal for today and take baby steps until you accomplish it.
September 2, 2009
My eight-year-old daughter and I were having a tea party in Austin and there was this bird there. It’s leg was hurt and we watched it flap it’s wings and scuttle about. With heroic effort, it was trying to get off the ground. My daughter says, “it really wants to fly!”. Immediately, I thought, “ah, dang, I’m a bird!”
It clearly was a bird and birds fly. I am clearly a bird and I realized that not only do I want to fly but it’s just what I’m made to do. I’m a Creative and Creatives create. Birds aren’t looking for results, they aren’t thinking, “I wonder if I look like a real ass when I fly like this” or “I’m kinda scared to fly today, I mean, what if it doesn’t really go well”- they just fly because that’s what birds do! They don’t mean to inspire children to say “burd”, they don’t set goals for how many bird watchers they attract that day. They are who they are and people respond how they respond but birds don’t care.
About the bird at the tea party, I wonder how long it will choose to live, not being a bird…
August 23, 2009
We have been going to this go-kart place very close to our house a lot lately, in effort to compete with my daughter’s dad who is all about fun and takes her all the time. So I have to constantly ignore comments like, “it’s no fun over here, I’m bored, we don’t do anything.” SO NOT TRUE. If her dad weren’t SO fun, we would appear fun- because our fun-level is definitely above average.
Anyway, my daughter and I are all about this one game. The truth is my not-even-two-year-old can play it and succeed BUT we are really good at putting our token in the slot and pushing a button.
After you do those two brainiac steps, you just wait for the super bouncy ball to land in a hole to see how many tickets you get. I’m getting so excited just thinking about it. Yesterday, right before we put our first token in, I said, “let’s focus on getting JACKPOT today!” (hadn’t hit jackpot yet, they don’t make it easy). She’s game of course and does her little prayer/meditation that she does when she wants something and off we went. (This is the girl that told me when she was 4 that she was getting a Chihuahua named Cherry and somehow it practically came in the mail.)
Token, button, bounce-bounce, ew ew ooh ya, tickets
Token, button, bounce, swirl, oh oh no no yyes!, tickets
This goes on and on.
A little into the game, we hit JACKPOT!
150 tickets!
We hit JACKPOT AGAIN!
We had to stop playing because the machine ran out of tickets.
We are saving up for the bike that folds up small enough to sneak into the movie theater- it’s only 7000 tickets! Gotta have goals in life.
August 23, 2009
I was reminded last night while we were at Late Nite Pie (a fun for everyone kind of place- pizza, pool, ping pong AND a huge outdoor kids area), that my nearly-two-year-old son is a man trapped in a toddler’s body.
We are at this great, kid-friendly place- sand, trucks, playhouse, springyhorseythingy, bigwheel and more. Where is Nash? He is in the corner drooling over the weedeaters they secretly stashed out of sight. He is trying to play pool. He is stacking and unstacking the big, plastic crates used to ship two-liters or something, like they’re legos. He wants to go inside. Anything but that kids’ stuff.
I looked over at one point and saw him on the springyhorseythingy and shouted, “he’s a toddler, look, he’s a toddler!”
When we go swimming, he would rather not swim. I have to hang out at the pool pump where he’s having his own pool pump party. He also likes to challenge himself to a good game of “who’s patio can I break into” when we break into a pool in a complex- I don’t know where he learned that behavior.Nash LOVES tools, workmen, trucks, construction sites, orange tape, blue collars.
And he scoffs at those pretend tools for BABIES. He wants real tools and only real tools.
Oh, and I’m not saying this is like a man but, he even picks up after himself- look out ladies.
He has a snack and throws the paper away.
He takes off his clothes and puts them in the hamper.
He finishes his food and puts his plate in the sink.
He takes off his diaper, puts the poo in the potty, and throws his diaper away.
FREAKY.
I’m not trying to say he’s perfect- it’s not uncommon to find him hording sharp objects he knows are off limits. He doesn’t listen at all. I think he’s thinking, “don’t talk to me like that, I am a MAN, so don’t talk to me like I’m a toddler.” It’s a real good thing I am a psychology major. He was breech and it all makes sense now.
