Stubborn Is as Stubborn Does

I never used to think of myself as stubborn. I was an easy going, laid back kid who most of the time never had to have her way. I was usually happy to do whatever my friends wanted to do. It wasn’t until I had Taylor that I realized “stubborn” comes in all shapes and sizes.

When we took him for swimming lessons around the age of four or so he wouldn’t do what he was told to do. There was no amount of cajoling or sweet talking or even harsh words to get him to put his head in the water, even if he did think the instructor was pretty. He was, and is, laid back and easy going. He doesn’t have to have his way all the time. But I can guarantee he’s not going to do something he doesn’t want to do.

Yesterday morning I asked Todd if I was stubborn. Without a moment’s hesitation he answered in the affirmative. I was shocked. I think I probably sputtered. At the very least I imagined he would have waged a war in his head before speaking.

Do I tell her the truth and risk her wrath? Or do I lie to appease her and make her happy?

With no thought to the safety of his person he just blurted out, “Yes.” A pretty brave, if not stupid move, if you ask me. He did go on to explain the difference between being stubborn and being spoiled. I’ll give him props for saying I’m not spoiled. (Though, truth be told, I AM spoiled, only because he’s made me that way.) But he said I’m stubborn because if I don’t get my way everybody knows about it.

EXCUSE ME??? I told him he has no idea how many times I don’t push the issue of what I want or how I think things should be. And frankly, when I do make an issue of something it’s usually because I think people are being selfish.

So then I asked if he thought he was stubborn. Instead of answering he said, “Wait a minute. This is supposed to be about you and not me.” O contraire, Mon frère. I was the interrogator and already had my list of questions prepared.

This time he responded in the negative. Again, I sputtered. He justified his answer by saying he can be stubborn at work, but not usually where the family is concerned. More sputtering and waiting for him to smile and say, “Just kidding.”

What I came up with is we’re both stubborn in our own way. I’d love to say he’s way more stubborn than I am, but I’ll concede that we’re each just as stubborn as the other.

There. In light of the fact this is my blog and I can say anything I want to, I believe that was very magnanimous of me.

Moving along…

Taylor may look like a blond version of his dad, but he acts like me in a lot of ways. His penchant for rationalization, for instance.

It’s called home work. Work you do at home. The teacher never said we had to hand it in.

If I wait another three days there will be more grass to mow, making it more worth my time.

Why do I have to watch the dog? I told you before we got her I would like a dog, but I was too lazy to be responsible.

Totally exasperating, and yet I get it. I rationalize everything. You’ve probably figured that out if you’ve read my blog for any length of time. I am the Queen of Rationalization. Not something I’m proud of, though it is a skill.

Yesterday morning I curled up in the big green chair with a cup of coffee and told Todd I was going to whine for a bit. I was just going to get it out and then be done with it. He was very gracious about the whole thing, wonderful (but stubborn) man that he is. My “bullet list” went something like this:

* I’m tired of my back hurting every morning when I wake up, making me sometimes get out of bed before I’m really ready to.

* I’m tired of the stiffness and walking like my grandmother when I get up after sitting for just a short while. Actually I never saw my grandmother walk like me.

* I’m tired of my feet hurting before I’ve even stood on them for the day.

* I hate that I need to be more diligent about taking calcium and getting exercise for my bones. My oncologist told me I WILL get osteoporosis before my time because of the medications I’ve been on and the lack of estrogen.

* I hate that I love good food as much as I do.

* I hate that I don’t like exercise like I did when I was younger.

What I hate the most is how stubborn I am about all this. I’m sure you all are getting tired of reading this recurring theme, but as I stated above – it’s my blog. I have carte blanche with what I write. And trust me. If you only knew the posts I’ve written in my head and chose to keep there you’d welcome my consistent complaining.

It’s like I have scales in front of me. In one tray I put “backaches”, “stiffness”, “joint pain”, “sore feet”, “osteoporosis”, “discomfort” and “overall health” and in the other tray I put “yummy food” and “inactivity”. The first tray far outweighs (pardon the pun) the other and I didn’t even put in the vanity phrases such as “fat clothes” and “depressing photos”.

I just don’t get it. Why am I so stubborn? Or maybe I’m just spiteful. I know I would be so much better off if I would eat better and exercise. And it’s even more important with my history. A better diet and activity could prevent or head off so many problems and it can also alleviate so many other issues. I’ve been through enough, thank you very much.

So why don’t I just get over myself and do what I know I have to do? It’s about so much more than what size I’m wearing or a number on the scale. It’s all about being the healthiest me I can possibly be and being around long enough to watch my grandchildren become parents.

Of course I’m spewing all this out only five days before our vacation. If you think I’m going to take all this to heart while I’m in Hawaii you are daft, man! Am I rationalizing? Probably. I’m okay with that, though.

It’s all about changing the way I think. And getting rid of my spiteful, stubborn self. I’ll think a lot about that while I’m lying on the beach. Maybe I’ll be inspired there and when I get home BAM! I’ll start training for the Iron Man. It could happen.

Plain and simple, I don’t understand how I could go through surgery and chemotherapy to be healthy and yet I can’t make myself stay away from fattening, sugary foods for any length of time. I allowed people to pump poison through my veins and yet I can’t make myself walk for 30 minutes every day. Eating right and being active is so much easier than going through treatment. So what’s my deal??

To round out this post, my deal is that I’m stubborn and I rationalize everything! Guess I know what character flaws I need to start working on.

I don’t think I like this self-realization stuff.