Raspberry Iced M

I took the week off of work to relax and spend some time with my son who is on fall break.

I went to therapy this morning, and when I got home, my son had already left for basketball practice, and my husband had already gone to bed (he works nights).

I was greeted by these two little demons, who found a trash can somewhere in this house and made it their own personal playground. Shredded napkins, candy wrappers, and empty drink bottles. All. Over. My. Floor.

I greeted the puppies as usual, stepped right over all of that trash, and said, out loud, “That’s none of my business.”

Okay, let’s be real. I will have to clean it up at some point today. Nobody else is going to do it. But for a brief moment, it was nice to actively shirk that responsibility and carry on with my life.

And I started thinking – because that’s what I do – about all the things in my life I fret over that are none of my business. Apparently, I have been serving on several committees to which I was never appointed.

In this season of my life, I have been ninja focused on protecting my peace in a way that suits me. And while I don’t subscribe to the idea that protecting peace always means shutting the rest of the world out, I will admit that there are stressful situations that pop up in my life that exist solely because I entertain the idea of fixing them. And by fixing them – I mean controlling them. Which is impossible…because none of those situations involve me directly.

1. What other people spend their money on. Listen. I notice things. If you tell me you’re broke on a Thursday and post a picture holding a $9 coffee on Friday, there is a small accountant who lives in my head who would very much like to open an investigation. And I am shutting down her department. Unless someone owes me money, or is asking me to finance poor choices, or his/her financial decisions affect me directly in some way, how that person’s money is spent is generally none of my business. Buy the shoes. Upgrade the phone. Order DoorDash from the restaurant six minutes from the driveway. Take out a loan to buy a llama for all I care. I don’t have to understand it. And perhaps more importantly, I don’t have to perform the mental gymnastics required to figure out how someone else is affording any lifestyle.
   (Side note – to that end, please don’t ask me for money and lie to me about why it is needed. I pay attention in that regard, too, and it makes me less inclined to help in the future – which sucks – because I am an incredibly generous person.)
2. Whether someone likes me. It would be nice if everyone liked me. And I’d also prefer to eat my weight in Cool Ranch Doritos and not gain weight. Some dreams have to be surrendered. There are, in fact, people who do not like me. Lots of people. There are people who probably have legitimate reasons not to like me. There are people who don’t like me because of something I’ve done. There are people who don’t like me because of something they’ve heard. There are people who decided they weren’t going to like me a long time ago and have decided to ignore noticeable changes in me so that I still fit into whatever picture they have painted of me in their minds. Fair enough. I am learning that my responsibility is my behavior – not someone else’s conclusion about it. If I’ve done something wrong, I can address it. If I owe an apology, I can give one. If there is something legitimate that I need to change, I can change it. But after that? Their opinions belong to them.
   (And if I hear through the grapevine that someone doesn’t like me, but I am never confronted? Meh. That’s none of my business either.)
3. What my hair looks like in the back of my head. My younger sister used to make fun of me because I was famous for straightening every piece of hair I could actually reach and leaving a crease in the bottom layer of my hair in the back. I have high hopes that my current hair straightener doesn’t miss anything, but the truth is that I never really know. Best just to not think about it.
4. How someone parents his/her children. There are obvious exceptions here, as abuse and neglect are not “parenting differences.” If a child is genuinely unsafe, adults should intervene appropriately. But normal parenting decisions like bedtimes, screen time, whether the kid eats organic blueberries or dino nuggets. The homeschool v. private school v. public school debate. Breast or bottle. Vaccines or no vaccines. I have had enough difficulty raising my own. Families are different. Circumstances are different. And despite the confidence of the internet, there does not appear to be one universally acceptable method of taking care of a human being. If that were the case, someone would’ve already written the “Parenting for Dummies 101” handbook. It is neither my burden nor my place to advise other people how to raise their kids.
5. The weather. Rain, shine, snow. Hot, cold, or anywhere in between. I don’t care. It is my assumption (and probably an incorrect one) that most people – most women, anyway – look at the weather report to plan ahead when it comes to fashion choices. And since I wear some combination of leggings, yoga pants, and sweatshirts all year long, it isn’t necessary for me to check the weather app.
6. Someone else’s relationship. This one is difficult for me, especially when I love one of the people involved. I can see things that concern me. I can think they’re making a mistake. I can want better for them. I can pray for them. And when appropriate, I can – in grace and truth – let someone know that I care about what I see. But there is a line between offering wisdom and trying to manage someone else’s life. Adults get to choose their relationships. They get to stay, leave, forgive, try again, mess up, and learn lessons I desperately wish I could teach them without their having to experience them. That is hard. But love doesn’t give me ownership. And sometimes it’s best to say, “I’m here if you need me,” and then step back.
7. The prices of necessities. Everybody is struggling financially in some way, it seems, and the economy is less-than-helpful these days. When my husband and I flew to Atlanta over the summer, we rented a car because we had to have one to get around the city. An Uber would’ve been too cumbersome because of my husband’s wheelchair. Four days. Four hundred bucks. I remember when you could rent a car for a whole weekend for $19.99 a day! Gas is nearly $4.00 a gallon. My last box of tampons was $12.00. Milk. Bread. Eggs. Diapers. Formula (which I have recently purchased – and I nearly fainted). Those little government elves know that consumers will buy certain things because we need them, regardless of cost. And since there are things I have to have – as a car owner, as a woman, as an American citizen, it’s just easier for me to ignore the dollar amount and “add to cart.”
8. Why someone hasn’t texted me back yet. One of the biggest differences in Yesteryear Me and Now Me is the way I handle a lack of response. It used to send me in a panic. Are they mad? Did I say something? Was my last text weird? Did the period at the end make me seem aggressive? Are they busy? Are they deliberately ignoring me? Have they decided they hate me? Are they dead? Should I check their socials to see if they’re active? No. No, I should not. Someone else’s silence is information I can receive without turning it into an investigation. And someone else’s lack of response is not evidence of my worthlessness. I am not chasing anybody, and that includes electronic chasing. Get back with me when you can. If you want. Or don’t. It’s none of my business.
9. In this house, the dishes and the trash. My son is in charge of the trash. My husband is in charge of the dishes. I am in charge of the laundry and the bathrooms. So I won’t be managing anyone else’s chores, because I have my own to manage. Which reminds me…I need to move the clothes from the washer over to the dryer…please hold.
10. Whether or not someone hears me. So here’s the deal. If I am having a conversation with you, and you actually can’t hear what I’m saying, I’ll gladly repeat myself as many times as is needed during our conversation. But if you hear me, and you acknowledge that you hear me, and the conversation ends, it is your responsibility to retain that information. I am far too busy with my own thoughts to be managing yours. Write it down. Put it in your notes app. Send yourself a voice recording. Whatever you need to do. Because I’m not reminding you.
    (Can you tell that weaponized incompetence is a huge pet peeve of mine?)

I suppose I should make that trash in the floor my business, officially. We love our dogs. We’d also love it if they had opposable thumbs. But I digress.