No! Not the sterilized Disney dwarf with his arms definitely crossed and a scowl on his face. OK, I do have a scowl.
It's so difficult to have a bad day when being someone's caregiver. I woke up tired, but fine for the most part. The walk to Bug's place was really nice, but the morning started to unravel for no particular reason and now here I sit grouchy like Oscar in the garbage can.
I've been productive: one load of laundry washed and dried, Bug needed a hair cut so I shaved his head, then he had a bath, I cleaned up the hair clippings that somehow made their way all over the bathroom, now Bug is out of the bath, dried and dressed.
A nice busy morning.
Bug is such a sensitive intuitive guy and he picks up on my moods in a heart beat. Literally it can be a sigh or a look or one wrong word and his mood shifts. It's difficult for me as I really want to be a happy easy going guy all the time. I feel I success about 90% of the time, but it's that other 10%? That's the real bugger to get a handle on.
Here's the thing though, getting a handle on being a grump isn't about getting a handle on it. Sure we can all conjure up ways to ease the anger. A nice bath with candle light, or a walk in a wooded area, or mediating, yoga, nice cup of tea or coffee, etcetera. But what about just being a grouchy dumb face for as long as one needs to be a grouchy dumb face. Our society has such trouble with anger. I accept that I have anger, but I haven't been shown how to successfully be in that anger. I know what I can do take me out of it, but why should we as people eject ourselves out of our anger?
The worst part about being a cantankerous grump face is the effect it has on Bug. It isn't fair that his energy or day be affected by my mood. I'd just love to hole-up in my home and grumble away to myself until the feelings subside.
How did Florence Nightingale do it or Mother Theresa? Gandhi? Did they have hissy fits and throw things when their anger got the best of them? I have an image of Florence tossing a bedpan (empty I would hope) in a fit of frustration. Or Gandhi ripping the glasses from his face and gripping them tightly in his fist as anger pulsed through his body.
Nah...
Gandhi probably prayed harder and Florence sucked it up, put a smile on her face and carefully placed the said bedpan down politely.
Sigh...
Well, anyway, I guess I'll take my surly self away from this keyboard. I'll be a crabby face and sulk home where I can lay my crotchety self on my bed and read a book in an irritable manner.
But first I'll need to give Bug a hug, kiss his forehead and tell him I love him.
I'll do my best to soften the scowl creasing my forehead.
Until the next time...
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