Why is it so hard? I was so gung-ho to join the Happy Mama Movement and then, just like a gym membership purchased on January 1 of whatever year, by mid-February it’s all about cakes and pies and no treadmill. In my case, though, I’m finding reasons not to be happy. First off, it’s scary as hell to be happy, to accept that happiness is there to stay. It’s scary because death and dismemberment clauses exist for a reason. And I know I just said last month that I was embracing happiness. I meant it. Why, then, now, just mere weeks later, am I giving Chicken Little a run for his falling sky money?
I am sighing.
Is it the wintriness of winter? Maybe. But, well, it’s winter. Even if the groundhog sees his shadow and declares six more weeks of winter, he’s really only declaring what the calendar already says. Technically, it’s still considered winter whether it magically reaches 70 in the middle of February (which it did last weekend).
Maybe that’s what’s getting to me more. It’s not a full-on assault of winter only. We get these snippets of sunshine and warmth and teens in the mall in crop tops and booty shorts WHERE IS YOUR MAMA and then more snow.
The way I felt last weekend in that sun deserved me to stop and recognize its power. It was transformative, the ease with which I laughed and played and slid down that absolutely fantastic slide. It lasted all day and night, ending in cookies and yes to more computer time and sure to all the books before bed. It ended with me being happy.
I know it’s probably not normal to expect to be joyous all the time, but the rate with which I tend to be unhappy about random things is spiraling into a bad place. And it’s covered in snow. Yet, I don’t want to blame my happiness seesaw on winter. It’s not Snow Miser’s fault that winter exists and I live in a place that is not tropical. Besides, everyone else is complaining about the weather. I need to be original with my woe.
I know there are other things at play, things I have no control over (right now), that are affecting my overall level of happy. I’m not giving up on finding the ability to maintain feelings of joy, but I acknowledge my outlook on happy may need to be revised, tweaked. And probably I need a sun lamp. All I can do is wait out the things that are conspiring against me, as long as I know I’m doing all I can to combat them. I could use your hope that they end the way I need them to, too. Until then, I’m totally reverting to singing Barney in my head:
YOU ARE WELCOME FOR THAT.