a bounty of lessons to absorb

My huge mistake became evident when Mister G unwrapped the package of paper towels and put the first roll on the counter near me. I confess, I may have had a tiny tantrum, which may or may not have started with an expletive or two (#itdid), followed by some masterful blame shifting, “WHY DID YOU OPEN THE PACKAGE???? DIDN'T YOU SEE THEY WERE PRINTED????” Yes, I see what I did here. But clearly my screw up needed to be someone else's fault. #sigh

His response: “It’s okay! So we’ll get to look at printed paper towels for awhile. Maybe it’ll be GOOD for us. Haha.” The nerve.

Does he actually understand that the package I bought contains 12 select-a-size rolls and we are a tiny family of 2 who tries to limit our use (#savingtheplanet)??? This could go on for awhile and I don’t see how staring at these goofy printed paper towels that totally disrupt the carefully curated vibe of my pretty kitchen is going to HELP me. What's wrong with him?

Ok. So, is this really about the paper towels? I mean, seriously, it’s a $15 mistake. Give the stupid things to someone who doesn’t care what they look like and move the heck on with your life. But as I obsess reflect on this over the next couple of days, I realize there's probably a bigger issue behind the issue here. Ya think? What was up with the mini tantrum? They’re. Just. Paper. Towels. One thing I know from experience is that when my response to something is out of proportion to what actually happened, then it's probably time to do a little excavating. #bringouttheshovel

I got curious about the subject of blame shifting, took my search to the world wide web and learned a few things. My biggest takeaway was in the discovery that we sometimes blame shift when we ourselves don’t measure up to our own standards. I realized as I was leaving the Costco parking lot that I forgot the ONE most important item on my 5-item list (frozen mangos), which then cost me another 25 minutes of hassle by the time I went back and got them. So when I came home and discovered I had made yet another mistake, my angry outburst directed toward my G was really about my own irritation with myself. I mean, a 5-item grocery list ain't exactly rocket science.  Two trips to the store and I still couldn't get it right put me in perfect position for some warped thinking. Let's take a ride on the crazy train of self-loathing.

So it's a self-esteem issue, right? Well, yes.  And, no. I mean, I'm all in favor of positive self-affirmations (#iAMsomebody) and encouragement from others about how great I am (#yougogirl) but for me, that good news has to originate from a firmer foundation to resonate deeply and really stick. Like, for example, coming right from the God of the Universe, the center of my gravity, my very reason for being, the One who created me with His own imprint, who loves me with a love that transcends anything I can understand, and forgives me over and over and over. Yes, even when I buy stupid printed paper towels. Man, if I had a firm grip on that, I'd never feel like I need to blame anyone else for my mistakes because I am completely loved and accepted and nothing, no-thing, can separate me from it! Damn straight!!! (Did you know that's kind of another way of saying "amen?")

I haven't decided if I'll keep those paper towels just to see if I learn something from staring at them every day for, like, ever. Perhaps if I stare long enough, then look up at the ceiling and blink a few times I'll see the face of Jesus and he'll be saying, "Remember how much I love you." I think that only happens in stories I see on Facebook, though, so maybe I'll just pass them off to someone else and move on from this whole thing so I can free up this space in my mind to obsess reflect on other such matters of great significance. I'll tell you what, though. If I do stick with the uglies, I'm pretty sure I'll need to buy a single roll of whites. You know, for when company comes. #hidetheprintedtowels And oh, don't you know there's an issue behind that too but I've already put my shovel away for the night.