
With 2014 just around the corner, it’s resolution time again. Instead of planning on exercising more or eating better – because where’s the joy in that – I decided to focus on things that would make me truly happy. And each one is inspired by the children in my life who are ridiculously happy nearly 24 hours a day.
1. So all you fly mothers, get on out there and dance. Dance, I said!
I love to dance. But in the uptight world we live in, spontaneous dancing is frowned upon. The other day at Joe’s Crab Shack, Linear’s “Sending All My Love” was playing, and I had to sit there motionless with my crab cracker in hand instead of doing the running man in the aisles. I’m sure it’s just what all those kids felt like at the beginning of Footloose.
But our kids are free to shake their booties whenever the music moves them. During the summer, my children love standing on the landscaping wall at Bobby’s Frozen Custard and doing the Cabbage Patch to the 50’s music playing over the loudspeaker. Or more recently, they started performing “Wrecking Ball” in Walmart, except it comes out as “I came in like a ‘Rainbow Mall,’” and the act gets really embarrassing when they start licking the hammers in the hardware aisle.
Children couldn't care less what people think of them. They are free and open and ready to show the world their impulsive choreography. In fact, if some uptight adult gives them a dirty look, they give a simple smile and nod to symbolize, “Yeah, check out these sweet moves, lady.”
To be happier in 2014, I suggest that we as parents – and dancers – feel free to let our inner Beyoncé out and not to judge others who do the same. Don’t be obnoxious about it. Don’t start doing pirouettes in the aisle at Steak ‘n Shake, but a little chair dancing can relieve our stress and angst. And when I say chair dancing, I mean dancing in your chair not with your chair seductively like the chick from Flashdance. Unless you really, really like your Salted Caramel Pretzel milkshake.
2. The temper tantrum punch card.
Kids are notorious for irrational temper tantrums. My four-year-old recently burst out into tears because “THERE AREN’T ENOUGH STEAK SAUCE STORES!!!” Surprisingly, this temper tantrum has happened multiple times. Girlfriend really loves her A-1.
It’s not hard to comprehend a temper tantrum – the world is an unfair place and sometimes we just have to let loose because our socks have blue stripes instead of purple stripes. As we grow older, we find a way to keep those temper tantrums under control. Like the good Midwestern salt-of-the-earth folk we are, we keep our frustrations in check in public and then go home and unleash on our families because some jerk in a BMW stole our parking spot.
The other night out at dinner, it took us an hour to get our bento boxes. The husband was giving me the silent treatment as if I was the one rolling the sushi, the kids were bouncing in their seats, and I was so hungry I started eating the disposed edamame pods, which I usually only do when I’m drunk and too incoherent to remember the pods are not only inedible, but have been spit out of my dining companions’ mouths because, “OMG - a bowl of edamame of my very own? Wicked!” It took every bit of my strength not to flip over the sushi mats and fling other diners’ sashimi against the wall.
I propose that in 2014, every individual over age three is granted one free pass for a nonviolent temper tantrum each year. It’s the parental equivalent of The Purge, but instead of taking out our neighbors, we take out our frustrations. Once you use your temper tantrum pass, you’re done for the year and are no longer allowed to be a jerk until 2015. This means you too, preschooler!
In this world, there’s no judgment, no hurt feelings, and no posting said temper tantrum to YouTube. Justin Bieber has only one opportunity to cuss out the paparazzi. Kanye can yell at the world once for not referring to him as God. I can throw a pizza box at Pizza World because they took too long to make my chicken wings. We all have our Achilles’ heel.
It’s not healthy to keep your frustrations bottled up day after day. It makes you constipated.
3. Learn to take a compliment – and believe it.
When children receive a compliment, they beam with pride. Or, as my child responds, “God also made me smart and funny. Thank you, God!”
As we grow older, we crave those compliments, but use them to self-deprecate ourselves. A kind word about our outfit turns into, “Ugh, I look so fat in this.” A nice word about our parenting skills evolves into, “Oh no, I’m such a mess.”
As someone who has built her writing career around said self-deprecation, it’s always been difficult for me to accept any compliment. Part of me doesn’t believe someone could actually think something nice about me – it’s so much easier to believe the negative things about yourself than the positive. The other part thinks it’s almost socially unacceptable to accept a compliment – that I’m going to get a Regina George response in return – “Oh my God, I love your skirt! Where did you get it? (That is the ugliest f-ing skirt I’ve ever seen).”
Our kids are thrilled to stick every piece of artwork on the refrigerator, to feel proud of their accomplishments without a sense of ego. It’s time we as adults start doing the same.
When someone says something nice, say “Thank you” and stop. If you’re feeling generous, give a heartfelt and honest compliment back or pay it forward by reminding the other women in your life how incredible they are.
You are a beam of light, mommy. You are smart and beautiful and probably great in the sack. Focus on the positive for once instead of the hair that isn’t combed or the dirty jeans you’ve been wearing for five days in a row because you haven’t had time to run the washing machine.
After all, it’s what our kids would do.
Metro East mom Nicole Plegge has written for STL Parent for more than 12 years. Besides working as a freelance writer & public relations specialist, and raising two daughters and a husband, Nicole's greatest achievements are finding her misplaced car keys each day and managing to leave the house in a stain-free shirt. Her biggest regret is never being accepted to the Eastland School for Girls. Follow Nicole on Twitter @STLWriterinIL
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