I'm not a Mom on tv, but I play one in Real Life.

I am a complainer.

I come from a long line of complainers, so I blame it on genetics. And my mother.

I didn’t used to think much of it. Doesn’t everyone complain. All the time.

Think about it: that annoying cashier, the guy who cut you off, bicyclists… aren’t we always complaining to family, friends and anyone who’ll listen about the stuff that annoys us.

But lately, everyone else’s complaining has started to get to me. And I found myself complaining about all the complainers… and I actually heard myself. And I didn’t like it. Not one little bit.

I sounded bitchy. And whiny. And ANNOYING! I had become what I said I hated most. (Isn’t that always the way.)

And so I am making a conscious decision to not complain. OMG. That is so hard. I find that sometimes I have nothing to talk about. How sad is that?!

I’ve also found a connection I didn’t expect. My road rage (and yes, it’s severe!) is almost completely gone! I guess all it really is, is complaining about all the idiots out there who aren’t as completely awesome at driving as I am. Once I quit complaining about all the morons on the road other drivers, I had very little to get all worked up and angry about.

It’s so nice to drive through town not looking like a flailing, incensed mime. Now I just look like a mime doing a Celine Dion impression (a mighty fine one!)

I’m hoping that over time, not complaining will take less effort.

On a completely unrelated note:

Could someone please tell Eric Brevig that directing Yogi Bear the Movie is not nearly as awesome as directing a Journey to the Center of the Earth sequel. Because if he does said sequel, then Brendan Fraser will sign back on. And all will be right with the world.

Not that I’m complaining…