Thursday, October 2, 2014

Steer Into The Skid

How I Met Your Mother is my most favorite TV show ever.  For so many reasons---from quality of writing to hysterically perfect references to my childhood---it is just the best (not always appropriate, but always funny).

Every episode is my favorite, but there is one line from the show that I repeat more often than I care to admit:

"People are thinking it, you might as well steer into the skid."  

Without explaining the whole show, it basically means: the more you fight what people are thinking, the worse it gets.....so just own it (whatever "it" is).....you know, steer into the skid.

My family is 66% male....which, according to them, means.... 
- farting is the best ever
- poop is an acceptable dinner time topic
- watching Call of the Wildman is considered enjoyable 
- anything can be made into a gun, with enough imagination
- screaming IS their inside voice
- and wrestling is their love language 

I used to correct them and say things like "we only say potty words in the bathroom", which, apparently, they interpreted as a challenge to "say potty words every moment of every day." 

Because my circumstances aren't changing and boys will be boys, I have learned to accept my lot in life (a lot I am BEYOND grateful for and would never want to change).

Basically, I have learned to steer into the skid.  (And have good health insurance.)

Exhibit A: Caleb recently passed this note to an unnamed person during school.....
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This is the thing.  We are who we are.  My family isn't precious.  We aren't sweet.  We scare moms of tender, perfect babies.  We look homeless more often than not.

Having four young kids is just a scene.  We can't go anywhere with comments from strangers.  Most are kind.  Some are weird.  Usually they notice we have all have blue eyes and comment on Chloe being the one girl.  But they never fail to notice us (and feel the need to make a verbal observation on HOW MANY THERE ARE).

It used to bother me to be stopped by strangers.....now, I just steer into the skid.

I use the interactions as opportunities to let my kids hear me say that they're so much fun....that even though my hands may look full, they're such great kids that they make my job easy (not always true, but they don't need to know that)...that children are a gift.

And on the occasion some daring stranger asks me if I know how children I made, I own my non-preciousness and reply, "Yes, and my husband is really good at it."

(If you think I'm kidding, ask my neighbor's friend.)

Steer into the skid, baby.  If you ask me about my sex life, you'll get the answer.  

I repeat:  WE AREN'T PRECIOUS PEOPLE.


As a single person, when I mapped out my perfect little life plan, I can't say it involved so much poop, farts, guns, smells, and Animal Planet shows......but this is who we are.....and I love it.  

Rather than fight it (and thereby emasculating my boys), I just own it.

I steer into the skid.

What life circumstance do you find yourself resisting....but because it's inevitable, you might as well steer into the skid?  



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Turning a pedicure foot bath into a bubble machine. Because, boys.   

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3 comments:

  1. My most favorite family! Even though we haven't seen eachother in years. Time doesn't count sucka! So excited youre writing these blogs :)

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  2. Steer into the skid. I like that, and I relate!

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