I laugh to myself sometimes when I see the reaction I get from new acquaintances after I confess to them that I can become pretty unglued at times. Nine times out of ten they always react in abrupt surprise and tell me that it's hard for them to picture me wigging out and losing it. "Oh, trust me, I've wept over many bowls of ice cream in my life and it ain't pretty!"

As with most people in this world, I want to be able to be comfortable with being the real me to everyone I meet, even if it means a continuous practice of taking off the mask. It hasn't been easy sharing with others how unglued but who ever said it was easy to be yourself and openly tell folks that yes, you don't have it all together, that yes, you eat too much ice cream when life throws you a curveball?

When I feel frustrated:

I let my emotions fall.
I eat too much chocolate.
I eat too much ice cream.
Heck, I just eat too much of everything that is opposite of a salad.
I go to the gym.
I journal.
I pray.
I dwell on the issue.
I cry. With hiccups.
Did I mention I cry?
I talk to my sisters, my friends, my husband...and then repeat.
I spend too much time on Facebook looking for distractions.
I organize or clean something. (Control issues much? Nah.)
I pretend everything is ok.

And then after it's all said and done and I just can't eat any more ice cream, I get back up, try again and hope again.

That right there? Definitely the most important thing from the list.

Happy Tuesday!

Once upon a time, I was short. Like, short in a way that’s appropriate for a 6 year old.

I was short enough for the roaming geese and ducks of a local park to look me straight in the eye and challenge me to a dual of wing flapping for the bread my chubby hands held dearly. Little did they know that this little chubby girl version of Bruce Lee (What? You didn’t know? See here.)

Clasping my dad’s hand as he helped me venture down the grassy hill (never mind all the duck diarrhea that we stepped on to get there) towards the birds with my whole-wheat offering, I felt the excitement growing as we got closer towards the flocks of ducks and geese that seemed, at the time, to promise a little kid a wonderful childhood memory in the making.

Now, I don’t know how they did it in the duck/geese ‘hood, but dang, you’d think they’d ask politely instead of straight up rob an innocent kid of her bread offering to them.

ROBBED, I tell you.

I must have been moving too slow in making my offer to them or something because one brown duck about my height not only impatiently snatched the bread from my hand but thought it’d be funny to reach out it’s snarling beak (it was SNARLING I tell you!) and bite my cheek as well. Now, I know I had a bit of a chubby face back then but just cuz a kid’s face looks like Wonder Bread goodness with all that face dough, doesn’t mean you go biting them for fun. That’s just rude.

I could hear still hear that duck waddling away and laughing “SUCKA!!!! I got your bread...AND YO FACE!”

I cried that hiccupping ugly-cry we all get, but stood my ground, sans my whole-wheat offering, among all the laughing ducks.

Key life lesson to remember from this random post? I STOOD MY GROUND.

Even after they took my bread and bit my cheek. Be it with a duck or anything else in life, I continue to learn how to stand my ground.

It's not easy but as everyday passes, I hope you do, too.

When I am Frustrated...and The Joys of Ice Cream

Duck-Robbing and Standing Your Ground