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If My Pride Can Handle It, I Can Handle It.

Last week with Parent Teacher conferences, my kids had early out every day.  Today rolled around and I was feeling on top of things. I'd set my kitchen timer to remind me to pick up my Kindergartner at the normal time, was putting my baby down for a nap and helping my home schooler with photography before slipping a coat over my PJs and heading out the door.  Just as I was about to leave I got a call from the school to let me know that my son was waiting in the office to be picked up.  I was puzzled for a second then it clicked.  My brain had combined the early time (10:50) and the normal time (11:35) and I was planning to pick him up at 11:50!  Instead of stammering for an excuse, I chuckled, explained the mix up, apologized and thanked her for letting me know.  The exact same thing happened last Fall the Monday after Parent Teacher Conferences.

You see, creativity runs deeply in my family.  Consistency, not so much.  I was the girl in high school that would forget her locker combination in January after Christmas break because I hadn't been using it every day.  Even worse, more than once as a freshman in high school, I would crash on my bed at night (without changing into pajamas or brushing my teeth) and wake up with a start the next morning to the honk of the carpool.  The mad rush would commence.  Picture me frantically getting ready, running around the house to collect my homework & books then panting to the door with something for breakfast in one hand and something for lunch in the other.  I'd fumble out on to the front walk with socks and shoes under one arm, my backpack slung over one shoulder, and awkwardly dash stumble to the van.  

For a long time I nicknamed myself, scatterbrained Sarah and I merited that title frequently.  I imagine the ADHD tendencies in my family contributed to the lack of focus, trouble with routine, rarely being punctual or getting things done on time.  Long story short, my sophomore year of college I felt the need to be more reliable and disciplined.  So I started making GREAT efforts to change.  Little by little by little we do big things.

Fast forward SIXTEEN years.  I have worked HARD to be more consistent & dependable, but man does it continue to be a struggle.  I have a dozen ideas running through my mind at any given time and can easily become hyper focused on things that are interesting to me.  It's great for getting big projects done quickly, but problematic for remembering details & logistics from minute to minute.  I know that I've come SO far, especially having recently added our 5th child to the mix, but I still drop the ball more than I would like.

Last year in early December, I had things all set up so I could have 45 minutes to Christmas shop all by myself.  My oldest was doing home school at a friend's house, my youngest was at preschool, my kindergartner was at school for the morning and my second grader would be at school all day.  I excitedly pulled up to JoAnn's to select fabric for some fun sewing projects I'd be working on for the kids.  Of course the time ran away with me and when I glanced down at my phone I had 3 minutes to get to my daughter's preschool.  I got things put on hold and raced over to pick her up.  I was a few minutes late.  Unfortunately from there the elementary school was on the other side of town.  With my daughter getting out at 11:30 and my son at 11:35, I knew that I'd be late {AGAIN} picking him up.

Over my shoulder I made small talk with my daughter as I impatiently waited at each light.  (How do I hit every red light on Main Street when I'm in a hurry?)  As we got closer I started examining my thoughts and my anxiety levels.  Why was I so panicked?  Was something going to happen to my son if I was a few minutes late?  No, this was not happening for the first time.  I knew well that he'd just be sitting in the office waiting for me.  What was I afraid of then?  It then dawned on me, I feared my pride being hurt.  I didn't want to look bad in front of the teachers and other parents.  As I rounded the last corner before pulling up to the school, the phrase came to my mind, "if my pride can handle it, I can handle it."  What an interesting shift in perspective.  I instantly felt calmer.  Sure enough he was in the office, but that was OK.  I had done the best that I could.  

I didn't need to trade my peace for my pride.

Since then, that phrase has come to me often.  If my pride can handle it, I can handle it.  I've started to realize how much of my anxiety stems from the worry of what others will think of me and my kids and my house and my van and my dog....

You get the point.  When I give my peace away for my pride, the list of reasons to worry is never ending.  But little by little I've been choosing confidence and peace instead of insecurity and anxiety.  My does it feel so much better!

Can you relate?  In what situations have you picked pride over your peace?  How does it leave you feeling?  What is the price of your pride?  Is it worth it?  I invite you to take back your confidence, to let go of unnecessary expectations and regain your peace.  You'll thank yourself for doing it!

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