Being Happy

I don't expect to be HAPPY-HAPPY all the time. In fact, I really don't expect a whole lot out of life. And I don't think I demand all that much. I don't need a huge house with a view. I am happy in a smallish apartment if I have enough room for my kids. I don't need constant good feelings in my heart. I understand that life is a balance between good times and bad and I expect to feel all those feelings, and the boredom in between. No problem.

Imagine my surprise recently when I found myself experiencing more and more frequent happy times. I think perhaps it is from having the new lady here helping more often. I am less and less stressed out by the day-to-day grind. I have time to nurture the baby and energy left over for the other boys. When DH comes home from work, I have the time and patience to look him in the eye and *really want to know* how his day went. In fact, twice in the last week I have offered to bring him a cup of hot tea or cold water because I was getting one for myself. Am I coming out of a post partum depression that I didn't identify? If so, it had been going on the entire pregnancy because I was a BEAR during my pregnancy. My poor DH. I guess I feel more nurtured right now and I want him to feel it too. Spreading the love.

And all this without medication. I'm not a pill popper. I take medication such as Tylenol only when I am in EXTREMIS and completely desperate for help. If I go through days or weeks of insomnia, I get online or take naps. I just *know* if I started taking sleeping pills that *I* would be one of those unfortunate people who died in their sleep because they turned their head into their pillow and were too conked out to save themselves. Same for anti-depressants. Now don't take this as a judgment of anybody who takes them. Some folks have a chemical imbalance and clinical depression and really *need* medication. But there are other folks who are just plain down. Down about life. Down about circumstances. Down for good-darned-reasons. When I am down I can usually figure out a particular reason. I then try to fix the problem, rather than medicating myself numb so I won't worry about it. For example, my last episode of insomnia came because of bills. What did I do? I paid the bills.

I gave my mom a book titled Being Happy by Andrew Matthews about 15 years ago. It was a nice little book. Short and to the point. The gist of it is that we all choose our state of mind. There were cute cartoons illustrating his points. I remember one where a guy is wearing a sandwich board with Uncle Sam pointing the finger saying, "I BLAME YOU!" Yep, it feels good to blame others, but that does not begin to solve any problems that we face in life. I could blame my parents for a lot of my stuff, but there comes a time when we need to cut those cords and take responsibility for our adult lives and actions. Thank you, my parents, for not raising me any worse than you did. I KNOW for a fact that many people had harder upbringings than I did and I know you did your best. You gave me quite a lot, in fact, and I share the love you gave to me with my beloved family. I have a lot to be grateful for. And isn't it better to focus on *that* than a long list of grievances?