I tend to operate on the principle that if some is good, more must be better. If you didn’t know this about me you’ve never seen me put cream in my coffee. I don’t usually drink coffee, and some might argue I actually never have. Mine is a nice tan color, delicious and sweet.
I was just thinking about this as I put soap into the washing machine. It’s so hard for me to use that high efficiency soap because I can’t imagine anything getting clean with just that tiny bit of detergent. And if a little soap can get them clean, won’t a lot more get them really clean? That’s what I thought!
But I’ve seen Freaky Friday, and I know that can make bubbles flow all over your laundry room and kitchen floors. So I restrain myself.
Restraint. That seems to be the theme of my days lately. Left unchecked, my extreme personality would have everything in my day carefully planned, including my husband and his minutes. “What are you doing?” I ask him about 15 times a day. Because he doesn’t tell me when he’s going to do something, he just disappears and is no longer part of my orderly kingdom. He’s on his own adventure, chasing this or that thing that he’s decided is important. And he’s not there to play with the baby or put away his clothes or clean up after dinner or anything. Gone. It’s hard on me because rulers need subjects, otherwise there’s no ruler. I suppose my fat baby could be my subject, only he’s even less accountable to me than my beloved husband. Let’s not even get started on that. Let’s just say that he’s at the stage where I just do damage control and very little directing. I can place him right in front of a pile of toys and ask him to play for 20 minutes while I clean, and he’ll crawl immediately off to inspect an electrical outlet or tug at a lamp cord. He is definitely not a loyal subject.
So. I am left with no rule, no subjects, no team, really. Just a lot of disappointment if I don’t reign in that need for domination. If I don’t restrain myself and make the dictator inside me shut up.