Yesterday was a two bowl of ice cream after dinner kind of day. With a big bowl of marshmallow oaties after that to crunch down the well of sadness.

Well, that’s pitiful, ain’t it?

Actually, I spent most of yesterday trying not to cry at work, then crying some at my women’s meeting. Then a little more in the parking lot after with my dear friend Amy. But then there was a little dinner to make, and my folks were here so that was good. The kiddos went to be without complaint- youngest singing himself to sleep, oldest with contraband video game buried under the covers. I didn’t have the energy to have him not to, or to read youngest a story. It was a bury your head and eat kind of night.

It should have been a connect and feel some love kind of night. Sometimes what we want (ice cream) isn’t really what we need (love).

I’m reading another great book and the last bit I read was about boundaries, and also compassion.

So I started thinking about setting boundaries for the kids, and how I am really really bad at that (“second chance queen” might be my nickname, or maybe “don’t do that, oh well it’s OK”) and how (F.O.B.) (flash of brilliance) I am totally bad at that for me too!

And then I started wondering about who is making the rules around here anyway?

It seems like I have one really really good hard fast rule: DON’T DRINK.

And then things get a little muddle-y and cloud-ly and I sort of don’t really have any other rules. Well, damn.

I feel like was kind of ruled-to-death as a child, so I’m really glad to break all rules and stomp over all the fences. As in “Ha HA! You can’t tell me what to do! See? I just did just what I wanted. So THERE!” I practice extreme boundary breaking. My drinking was my biggest boundary buster: “I can drink as much as I want and you can’t stop me!” And then my body wouldn’t even stop me by throwing up or passing out or making the hangovers so so terrible that I never wanted to drink again. (well, then again on the hangover part…..)

But, wait. Boundaries are good. Without them we’d be all over the place. And I like rules, funnily enough. I like limits, and reasons. Ones that keep me sane.

Boundaries can also be really friendly ways to not have to have the morning mental beat down. I am so much better at not having it, but I still wake up and do a kind of inventory: “Oh. What time is it? What day is it? Oh. I ate two bowls of ice cream last night. And that cereal too. And I cried all day. And didn’t even really look the children in the eye. Oh. well, shit.”

And that is not the way to wake up. Boundaries can be a good way of preventing regrets. If I’d had boundaries (simple rules for myself- truths that stick for the way I know I like to live my life) then I…..well, I can’t really say. But for me, for at this time in my life, some boundaries seem like a pretty good idea.

Things like:

Not checking Facebook and email fourteen times after dinner. How about not at all? The computer has become a big time suck for me. It kind of gets in the way of me connecting with the real people and dogs around here. I check every morning- sometimes I’m on it for a few hours in the morning! That is enough.

Or not eating after dinner. Have a little dessert after dinner, but don’t take ice cream and sesame sticks and bowls of cashews up to snack on in bed. That feels like I’m taking care of myself, but it’s really sabotaging me mentally and physically in an irritating way.

Those two are good.

Oh, and one more. When discipling the children ( That is a total typo that I like that better than “Disciplining”) stick to it. Be fair and firm. I will disciple them. Spread the word about manners, and not calling your brother a stupid poop head.

I’m going to start with the second one. It’s OK for me to try the other two out, but for this week the only really really good hard fast rules are these:

DON’T DRINK
NO LATE NIGHT SNACKS

Cool. Simple Boundaries. Little Life Rules. I think I’m finally ready for some. Boundaries can help prevent regrets. Life management. Not everything is OK. And that is…..OK. 🙂