I wrote this while the kids were playing/yelling/beating up on each other outside because Spring came today and hallelujah! Blake is out of town for work and I’m missing that man. Sundays are the worst without my better half.
News
I didn’t think for a second really on what to write on this topic. It’s actually kind of a boring topic to me in that I don’t have any news to share. No babies, no moving, no trips to a foreign destination. I did lose 15 pounds and that’s exciting but not exactly news I want to share to the majority of the world. Just you few readers apparantely. The feeling of sharing news is just so great. That butterflies in your stomach, anxious anticipation to share the excitement. And hearing other people’s news is exciting as well! The “I’m pregnant with number six, surprise!” news is always fun. The “I’m moving to Iceland for a year” news is just as exciting to hear. The “I paid off my student loans after 15 years” news is thrilling and jealousy inducing (in a good way). News is just news. It can make your day better or worse. There is crappy news. Like a death in the family, job loss, wars in the world, poverty, a broken leg, even a paper cut. The paper cut news is the kind I get from my kids. It’s a big deal around our house. These types of news make you feel something different and it’s not really news that anyone wants to share or hear about. Still, it is news. I guess the way we react to news can sort of define who we are. We can say, “Well, that’s their problem.” or “I’m sorry to hear it” or “I’m so excited for you!” Or you can do something to help them deal with their news. Bring cookies, send a card, even a text message remembering the person (in good and bad times). I hope and strive to be the person that is happy about other peoples news. Instead of being jealous or grumpy about it. I have been that way as well. And that really doesn’t hurt them, but it sure hurts me. And who wants to carry around guilt from the burden of jealousy. I have done it before and believe me, it is not pretty.
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