DAY 8 – The Germans Made Me This Way

Have you ever had your child roll over in their sleep and conk you on the bridge of your nose, or elbowed you in the eye socket? My 2-year old caught the corner of my eyebrow tonight with his head. Ouch!

  • [Me: Why is your head so hard?]
  • [Him: Because God gave me a hard head.]
  • [Me: I don’t mind you being hard-headed, but not when you’re sleeping next to me.]

I just made that up. We didn’t have this conversation. He abused me in his sleep. And given his not-so-easy sleeping habits, I wasn’t about to wake him to say he hit me with his head. It is hard, though. Really hard.

stubborn German_pinterest

I can be stubborn. Hard-headed. I’m 95 percent German, the small remainder Irish. That combines stubbornness with an additional likelihood of a slight temper. Or so the stereotypes say. We’re also supposedly argumentative. Umm, is yelling in there somewhere? Just want to know if I’ve got genetics working against me…

Stubbornness can be viewed as negative, or a good thing. I prefer to think of it as a benefit. Resolve. I can stand my ground. I can firmly believe in something and make it stick. I could always say no to drugs and smoking.

For example, something a bit unusual about me is that I don’t drink. No alcohol of any kind. This is unusual because most people do or have at some point. It’s a common social occurrence. Also unexpected because I live in the 5th top state of beer drinking, apparently.

I’m often asked why I don’t drink (and never have). There was no traumatic experience that led me down that road. Honestly, I think it started with a special program in middle school. I wish I could remember its name. It was an acronym. Was it D.A.R.E? (If you know what I’m talking about, and are old enough to have been in this program in the 80’s, let me know.) Anyway, I saw all the stupid trouble you could get yourself into, and quite easily decided, That isn’t for me!

Not only am I a safety-girl and avoid trouble at all costs – I also dislike not being in control. I sat in those classes, thinking, “Wait a minute. Something could alter my judgment and decision-making…make me act like a total idiot…and I have no control over it? WAY scarier to me than any peer pressure. I wanted to control what I did. If I was going to act goofy, it would be on my terms. Stubborn? Absolutely!

I am so thankful for this stubbornness. That decision has stuck with me all these years. I fully expect to go to my grave an alcoholic virgin.

Oh…THAT didn’t come out right at all. You know what I meant. 🙂  (Honestly, I could have deleted that sentence, but I found it so ridiculous to actually have finished typing it before I realized what I had said, that I figured I’d leave it in. I said I’d be real!)

So, I’m counting on my stubbornness to succeed in this journey to a yell-free home. I’m hoping it’s as easy for me as not drinking has been. But let me repeat that…a yell-free home. Not a yell-less home. A yell-FREE home, people. That’s hard!

But not as hard as my head.

Here’s to being stubborn! Prost!

Heart Monitor: I promised to be honest about my daily progress, even if I can’t write every day. Here’s the lowdown.

  • Day 5 – I got some good sleep. The kids got along. A good day!
  • Day 6 – Good. There was some stern talking (which is expected), but no yelling.
  • Day 7 – I made it. But not without effort. I felt testy. I had insomnia Sunday evening – laid awake until somewhere around11:30 pm. Note: sleep deprivation does not help this initiative!

Heart Monitor: Day 8 was continued success! Raise your margaritas (non-alcoholic for me, of course)!

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