Howdy folks! It's time for the 2nd edition of Write On, a new tradition over at Nicole's blog,
Tattoos and Teethings Rings. Hop on over to her place and join in the fun! The prompt I've chosen for today is:
Write about your worst personality trait or bad habit. Be honest; none of this "My worst habit is that I'm so kind to everyone...blah blah blah." Time to fess up! (And, since you are aware of this bad habit or trait, is there a reason you haven't changed?)
Although the jury's still out on this one, I'd say my worst habit is frequently interrupting people. I simply can't
keep my trap shut wait to interject my brilliance into the midst of whatever conversation happens to be taking place. While I possess a plethora of positive virtues, patience is not one of them, which means it's essentially impossible for me to "hold that thought."
If your kid is 6+ months old and you are whining about getting up with him/her in the night,
I will make sure to interrupt and tell you to begin the CIO (Cry It Out) process. Before you can open your mouth to object, I'll shove my dog-eared copy of
Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child by Marc Weissbluth in your diaper bag. I'll blather on about how if we could listen to our two screaming banshees for five nights in a row, then surely getting your one child to sleep through the night will be a piece of cake. Hell, I'll even offer to come do it for you!
When I asked The Father Load about my bad habits, he was a tad more specific and suggested that it's not my mere interruption that's annoying, it's the fact that I finish his sentences for him.
The Father Load often comes home and starts telling me about the difficult surgeries he's done that day. He'll complain that the
old mannish compression stockings he's wearing haven't helped his throbbing legs and feet because he only sat down once for five minutes to scarf a tuna sammie for lunch. I
promptly interrupt him and say sarcastically, "Oh so you had a crappy day, too?" quickly followed by, "I'm-sorry-your-day-was-hellish-can-you-please-let-the-dog-out-he-has-to-pee-and-will-you-just-wipe-Izzy's-bum-real-fast-she's-in-there-pooping-and-I-hope-you-don't-mind-leftovers-for-dinner-because-my-day-has-been-horrible-and-I'll-be-damned-if-I'm-setting-foot-in-the-kitchen." He's only just walked in the door and I'm throwing a thousand requests at him and asking for help with the girls. While I know he's been hard at work all day, so have I. I just don't get
any respect a paycheck for what I do.
If you even start to say, "I wish I had more time to work out, but with the kids I just..."
I will interrupt you, raving about my love for Jazzercise, and promptly drag your ass to class with me. We'll shove your kids and mine in the babysitting room and enjoy an hour without fighting and hair-pulling, even if it means actually exerting ourselves and
God forbid sweating. If you dare to say, "But I can't that day," I will slap you upside the head, promise I won't embarrass you in my leotard and leg warmers, and will reward you with alcohol afterwards. Or you can just bring your kids to my house and we can let Jillian Michaels' 30-Day Shred kick our asses. Then you have no excuse. We have a shitload of toys in the basement and the kids can even do the dvd with us if they want. No babysitter required. Abby and Izzy love jumping jacks and push ups. Biddy Boot Camp, anyone?
I don't know why I haven't changed, but I definitely recognize the problem. When The Father Load points it out to me, I become extra cognizant and careful for
two days a little while, and then I fall off the wagon again. But it's a double-edged sword sometimes...because if we're in a group and everyone's talking over each other, I don't even try to get a word in edgewise. Then The Father Load accuses me of being anti-social and shy and then some people interpret this as my being stand-offish or not-so-nice.
I guess what I'm saying is that sometimes I'm afraid if I don't interrupt, I won't have a chance to talk. Or I'll forget whatever amazingly insightful thing it was that I was about to say.
So now that I've dished, what are your bad habits? Trust me, I have plenty more, but Nicole only asked us for the worst one. I could go on for days about the rest.
