Will Someone Please Rain on my Parade?

I’m very impulsive. It’s a quality that I’ve possessed for some time now and, while it’s not the easiest thing to live with, it’s more or less a part of who I am and why I do what I do.

For example, when Wes proposed to me in July 2005 we were planning to get married in early August 2005. Yep, one month later. Why? I was starting school in late August and wanted to have some time to settle into marriage before school started. Also, I figured that if we waited until December, during the break between semesters, I wouldn’t have enough time to get settled and back into school mode.

We called his parents (oh, by the way, they were in Italy at the time) and told them we were engaged and that we wanted to get married in one month. Let’s just say that didn’t go over so well. Wesley’s heroic parents talked us out of our hasty wedding plans and convinced us to wait until at least December.

I’m really glad they did. We had a beautiful wedding and it was definitely worth waiting for.

Or for another example, just now (meaning two hours ago) I was looking at houses for sale in our area and found this gorgeous 5 bedroom house down the street that we can totally afford. It’s beautiful and shiny and well-maintained and gosh if I didn’t fall in love with it right then.

I emailed it to Wes and to my mother-in-law and sister-in-law (both of whom are real estate agents) and awaited their response. I was certain they would all love it as much as I did.

Ummm, no.

Wes called me and explained that 30 year old split-level houses tend to be pretty hard to sell and that we could probably wait a little longer and get something a little less problematic. I then got two emails, in rapid-fire succession, from my sister-in-law and my mother-in-law basically saying the same thing that Wes said (albeit in a much funnier and zesty manner, because my sister-in-law and my mother-in-law are awesome like that).

Needless to say, I’m no longer interested in the house and I’m very grateful for the anchors in my life. I tend to be a bit like a balloon. When I get excited about something it’s up and away I go! If I didn’t have people in my life courageous enough to tell me when my idea is not the greatest in the world I’d be like a balloon without an anchor.

Do you know what happens to balloons without anchors? Me neither. Maybe they float so high the atmosphere freezes them and then they shatter and explode! Maybe they drift into the ocean and choke baby dolphins. Maybe they wrap around the fronts of airplanes, essentially blinding the pilots so that hundreds of people crash to a terrible fiery death. Or maybe they just lose their momentum and crumple onto the ground to be used as nesting material for birds or capes for young boys.

Either way, I don’t want to explode, or choke dolphins, crash planes, or be ripped apart to be used as a nest for tiny baby birds. I want to be big and plump and colorful up in the sky in a controlled manner the way I’m supposed to be.

Wes says my analogies don’t usually make sense. In case this doesn’t make sense to you, just know that I’m glad there are sane people in my life who love me enough to disagree with me.

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