This is my family photo. I’m the one who looks pissed.
I somehow stumbled across the Weekly Writing Challenge from WordPress. I don’t know if I was surfing tweets, sifting through LinkedIn people I should know or deleting Farmville 2 invitations on Facebook, but I’m glad I found it.
I have no idea who these people actually are, but their sour faces are certainly familiar. The assignment for the challenge is to write a story about this picture — any story. The tale at the top of my mind is last night’s chat with The Roo about how we need to get along better.
Not that we’re cat-dog fighting, but I often feel frustrated with her at a faster pace and with less provocation than I do with her younger brother. I’m sure my therapist has a file full of good stuff to fill in the blanks on why, but I think it boils down to the fact that she is my blonde, 7-year-old clone. So we naturally butt heads.
I hate that. I want us to enjoy each other for the hilarious chicks we really are. But all too often, tempers and nostrils flare simultaneously. It’s like an estrogen smack-down around here over trivial things — far too often, I can’t even recall the trigger.
Earlier this week in a rare flash of genius, I came up with a new rule: If you can make me laugh, you’re not in trouble.
Anger is infectious. But so is laughter. If one of us manages to turn the mood around, we all feel better. And it’s my job to look for reasons to feel good about my kids so they feel good about themselves.
A few years ago, the elementary school my siblings and I attended asked my mom for school photos of my brother, sister and me to feature in an ad. She couldn’t find a single one in which any of us were smiling.
At least we don’t have that problem.
Hopefully the new rule will keep us camera-ready and out of trouble.