Terrible Twos Redeux.

Yes, I am officially one year older than yesterday. And to scare some of my female relatives, who would rather run naked through a field of cactus than give an age... I am 42. Husband says I am going to be in my Terrible Twos.

This could be a good thing...

MINE! I will not share my time, my effort, or my energies with things that I find of no benefit or worse, drain me. This includes food, (have to if I want to lose weight), people, and maybe even some of my volunteer work. Just because it's a good thing, doesn't mean it's good for me.

NO! I will say this word more often. I have been doing a lot of things because I feel duty bound to do so, I always have done, it's expected of me, or "I SHOULD." This is where the backbone transplant should take. I don't HAVE to do much of anything. I need to choose with more eye to what will be a benefit to myself and others. If it benefits others, that is great, but if I am ready to scream, curl up into the fetal position, and sob, probably better to make other arrangements, yes?

I want to do it MYSELF! I often let others do things for me, because they feel good doing it. Which to a point is fine. In other ways it is debilitating. For example, I can't back up a trailer. This may not sound like much, but that means I have to have someone else take my trailer and park it for me. MY trailer. This is annoying, and well, if I had to drop and go, I wouldn't know how. We did haying. I didn't have any idea how that I would have been able to put the hay in the barn, by backing the trailer. It's nice I have LOTS of people to do it, but THAT'S NOT THE POINT! I need to stretch my comfort zone. I have someone willing to teach me this skill, I need to take them up on it. I finally found my guitar, I have wanted to learn to play. (Like I need another hobby, that's beside the point...) Now I have it, and some basic guitar books. Hey, if all I can manage is a wobbly version of Mary Had a Little Lamb, it will still be something I worked on and did on my own.

So, on this my natal day, what am I going to do? Shear llamas. Then probably shower, after a green out from one particularly nervous girl... Hopefully some pix tomorrow. And maybe a pix of the wasp nest, Husband got a photo.

So, I am two (again). Fear me.