How do you think positively 2 weeks after moving?

Yesterday I caught myself wallowing in the overwhelm of life. This is something I do for at least 15 minutes/day. Ha!

The boys and I have officially been in our new house for exactly 2 weeks now. There are still around 10 cardboard boxes scattered around the house, the hard ones, the ones you save for last. All of 3 or 4 things are hung on the walls, and the counter tops aren’t cleared off yet, not even to the manageable level, because we haven’t figured out where everything goes.

I just returned home from the grocery shopping with John David, so the kitchen is covered in food to be put away.

This was not grocery day. Grocery day looked much worse than this.

It is so easy to dwell on your problems.

Staying positive while staring at the seemingly 1 million things we still need to do doesn’t really come naturally.

I caught myself moping yesterday, as I sat down on my screened-in back porch, at this old glass porch table we’ve moved along with us at least 4 different times, maybe more. We’ve owned this porch table and chairs so long I have no memory of buying it! Thank God for things that last! Look! There’s a positive thought!

Sitting out there watching the two youngest boys jump on the trampoline and the little dog run around the yard, suddenly things didn’t seem so bad. It was even nice weather out! Cloudy and cool, a welcome change after 95 degrees.

Looking at your life in a positive life takes thought until it becomes a habit. Positive thinking is the OPPOSITE of unrealistic expectations, which are perhaps the biggest enemy of my lifetime. Unrealistic, idealistic expectations–ugh–make it so easy to think negatively because up against the ideal, everything is a disappointment, even when it shouldn’t be.

Thinking positively requires actual effort to flip the way you look at a situation, a person, or anything. It’s a learned skill, even.

I think it’s most important in your head, in the way that you think to yourself.

For example:

My usual pattern is this–

I can say what I said in my first paragraph.  10+ boxes are left to unpack. The closet broke today. The house looks untidy still. There’s nothing on the walls, and I haven’t even decided on a color scheme for the front room (which everyone will see). I’ve failed at this. Why can’t I do a better job?

See my broken closet? It’s so bad, I had to prop it all against the wall, or it would all be laying in the floor. Everything on the upper shelf crashed down around me too.

See.

When you put a successful spin on that thought process, you are allowing yourself to be happy.

“We are rocking this move. Only a few boxes are left. I know where almost everything is. Alan can fix the closet himself, I’m sure. It will be fun to decorate the front room. Besides all that, we’ve already met most of our neighbors, found a church that we like, been invited to someone’s house, and put together a swing set and the trampoline. Anyway, this screened-in back porch is AWESOME! Everything is going to be okay.”

I know you all can relate to this. No way am I the only person who beats myself up.

But another thing has to go too: Comparing yourself to others.

Comparison is TOTALLY the thief of joy. No other way around it. Life isn’t supposed to be about competing with your friends and strangers. We’re all different people with different circumstances, so it doesn’t make any sense anyway.

I think it’s more productive to compete with ourselves. Trying to beat your best time on a run, learning a better way to do something, accepting constructive criticism, and improving on anything that you do to compete with yesterday you, that’s a healthier way to live. I can’t control how fast this friend, according to her Facebook posts, is at unpacking. I can only focus on my own boxes.

I found this adorable heart, from Valentine’s Day, in one of John David’s boxes. There are positive things about moving.

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By the way, John David was absolutely adorable at the grocery store. That boy sang contentedly as he walked right in my way through the whole store. “B-I-N-G-O, B-I-N-G-O, and Bingo was his name-o.”

Did I shush him? No! It was precious and not too loud. I felt like everyone should be thanking me or buying tickets. Sounds funny, but I’m serious! You’re welcome, Target, for the happy little entertainment we provided today.

Our poor first 2 children would’ve probably been shushed, but we are not the same people we were back then. Parenting has begun to wear away our sharp edges. We are only 13 years in. Imagine how soft we’ll be by 20 years in!