Lets Be Realistic

The other weekend, my brother-in-law accused me of being a realist.

Well, actually, what he said was "you always know exactly what to say to make a situation all better" in a somewhat sarcastic tone of voice. We were both watching his barely 2 year old run off for the upteenth time and I casually mentioned that it doesn't get much better when they're three.

I mean, I was just saying. In case he was holding on to the belief that in 10 months time, everything would be right. I was just trying to save him the same heartache I felt when, shortly after Josh's third birthday, I realized that everyone who told me that three was better than two (thanks, mom!) were just mincing the experience so that I would have hope to continue on. Like I was going to eat Josh or something if I would've known ahead of time.

I guess, maybe I could work on my timing a little bit, but still, I was trying to be helpful. And who knows, maybe his kid will be the first three year old I have ever seen that is actually better behaved than they were at two. In that case, I was just giving him the worse case scenario. Anything different would be cause for celebration, right? Anyways...

So I interpreted it as him calling me out as a realist. Just telling it like it is. Or like I see it. Same dif.

Which I've never denied. I'm certainly not your rainbows and cotton candy kinda gal. I walk a very fine line between optimism and pessimism, and usually the more sickenly optimistic someone is around me, the more pessimistic and devil advocatey I become. I like to point out the "other" viewpoint, even if it's not one I agree with. Just to watch you squirm. Besides, what fun would it be if we all agreed on everything?

And so here's the thing: I know that bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people. I've seen it in my own life. I know there's a lot going to pot in my house, my neighborhood, my city, my state, my country, and my world. I'm not going to hide behind some cloud of fluffy bunny rabbits and pretend it doesn't exist. I have an opinion and I'm not (usually) scared to share it.

Wade is. Afraid of me sharing my opinion. But that's for another time.

I want people to tell me how it's going to be instead of sugar coating it. I can handle the pain better if I'm prepared for it. So I guess, that's how I approach other people. Some want to hear it for what it is. Others want roses and puppy dogs. I'm happy to give you your roses and puppy dogs, but I might throw in some snakes and thorns so it doesn't all go to your head.

I may not be making my stamp on this world by curing cancer but I can write funny stories about mundane stuff that happens and hopefully bring a smile to at least one person's face and make my mark that way.

Which, I guess, it slightly better than just sitting around and bemoaning the current state of my house, my neighborhood, my city, my state, my country, and my world.

It's just who I am.