Giving Yourself Credit

Do you give yourself enough credit?

I know I don't.

I probably don't actually know the answer about you, but I am pretty confident anyway that the answer is "no" for you too. And that's a shame. I realized that this morning. There is a serious case of credit debt going on around here and it has nothing to do with anyone's financial situation.

Here's my theory on credit. I didn't know I have one but now apparently I do.

I think perhaps so many of us know someone who maybe, perhaps, might give themselves a little too much credit. And as a result, and out of fear of giving ourselves too much credit, we overcompensate their overcompensation, with undercompensation. (Does that make sense?) Like somehow it evens out the world or karma or something.

And I realize there are a lot of "compensations" in that sentence but the only compensation that's going on is actually going to other people! None of those compensations are even for us! We're so afraid of going over the line that we go way way under. We think that giving ourselves too much credit isn't fair to other people (they may in fact be taking other people's credit in the meantime in order to supply themselves with more as the case may be.)

But taking none for yourself isn't fair either.

Consider this.

It's not like you can even save credit for someone else because this type of credit isn't like the credit situation in our country, credit can be given where credit is due and there is no ceiling on how many people can give themselves credit where credit is due, or rather, what I like to call, mad props, yo.

There might be a personal ceiling; an amount of credit that is too much for one person. But just because someone takes too much of it for themselves doesn't mean there's not enough left for other people. In fact, it's probably why we get so mad when someone takes our credit. Because we already don't give ourselves enough credit and now someone's gotta take the little that we're not even claiming? (That part is infuriating!)

But let's just say for a second that we live in a perfect world where no one takes other people's credit. Let's just leave that out of the equation entirely. Because we can just ignore those people anyway in real life. (I usually run far far away from them myself. I can't handle the stress as I get older.)

Let's just get back to our own credit.

How do you feel when someone else does something amazing and then when they're done and you say, "WOW!!!!! GREAT JOB!!" they respond with, "Yeah, I guess it was ok."

Don't you want to shake them and say, "LOOKIE!! LOOKIE AT WHAT YOU DID, THAT WAS AWESOME! You should be PROUD!"

And sometimes we do actually shake them. And they still shrug and say, "I don't know, it was nothing."

(Are you either one of those people in the scenario? I have personally been both.)

So right there. That's the perfect example of credit left unspoken for, left out in the cold, flapping in the breeze. Poor poor, homeless credit. It can't even go to someone else! And now you've gone and left it out in the cold with no home whatsoever (don't you have a heart!?)

See, only you can take it. But yet it goes unclaimed.

We might be hardwired to believe that taking credit where credit is due is actually selfish. But when we don't take it, we actually do ourselves a great disservice. (Not to mention, there is poor homeless credit lying abandoned in gutters everywhere.)

Why, what's the big deal, you ask? What happens when you don't take it (and who really cares anyway?)

Well frankly, not too many people will care that much if you don't take the credit, (it's annoying to people when you take too much and it's annoying to people if you don't take any) but when you continually don't take credit it does something to your insides and you're the only one you hurt.

For one, it lessens your accomplishment. Whatever it is you accomplished becomes "just ok," "mediocre," and "average," when the truth is, it probably isn't. There are things you do that other people simply do not do, for either lack of skill, patience, or basic guts & instinct. And even if other people somewhere in the world can do it and even maybe perhaps better, so what? YOU did it. YOU did. And you should be proud of that!

And because secondly, if you are not proud of that, your confidence falls prey to getting sucked right out into the confidence-sucking-vortex of unclaimed mad props. And you need that confidence to fuel yourself to keep going, keep working and keep building. Throwing your confidence into the confidence-sucking vortex is like throwing all your energy into the energy-sucking vortex and then at the end, ya got nothin.

Ah. I see.

But you still don't know how to actually accept and hold the credit, do you?

(That's ok. I have trouble with this one myself but I think I at least know how. It's the follow through that's the hard part. And also the breaking of the bad habit that is not accepting credit.)

How to give yourself credit

Step One: First, simply give yourself permission. Tell yourself it's ok to be proud of yourself and that it's ok to give yourself mad props. It is not selfish to do so. It is not selfless to let the credit lay homeless in a ditch either. It is, in fact, your personal responsibility to accept credit where credit is due.

Step Two: Accept it! If you're that afraid of looking like a tool by accepting the credit for what you did, there are ways you can accept credit without being a showoff about it. It's true! Just accept it nicely on the outside, have a beer (or two) and celebrate, on the outside you can keep it a low key but visibly happy party, but ON THE INSIDE (where it really counts!) make sure you throw a complete luau and overthetop MTV version of my sweet 16! Be proud of yourself! Let it fill you with confidence! You don't have to ooze with it, but be sure to allow yourself to shine!

Step Three: REPEAT!

I do, completely, understand the irony of this post coming from a person who is currently in an insane amount debt for giving herself credit, that's actually why I am writing this post.

I realized this morning that I am fed up with my current state of lack-of-self-credit-giving and that failure to accept credit is a confidence-sucking vortex.

(Really I just like saying "vortex." It's my favorite word right now.)

I was swimming this morning and currently, I feel like a shark in the water going really fast but the truth is I'm not, and I told my friend "It's like I'm paddling paddling paddling but I'm swimming in place."

However, I did swim a mile. She watched my form and told me I have good form. There is tweaking to be done, as in anything (and also probably nothing that simply more swimming won't overcome), but her words to me?

"You have to give yourself more credit."

Apparently it struck a chord with me because here I am writing this post.

So let's do ourselves a small favor and accept some credit, mkay? If not for yourself, for the poor homeless attention-starved credit out there cowering in the world all by itself. Claim it! It's lonely!

It is your duty!

(I'm going to give myself some credit for swimming a mile (however imperfect it was), cleaning the kitchen, making pancakes and having my coffee, all before 7:30 this morning.)

Now get on out there and give yourself some credit too.

You totally deserve it.

BODIES.

Oh these bodies of ours. They can throw us for a loop so much can't they?

I'm sitting here with my giant jug of water that makes me look like a hamster when I drink it.

Hydrating because tomorrow is a really big race. St. Anthony's Olympic distance triathlon. One of my two really big races of the year (the other is the Augusta 1/2 Ironman in September.)

Right now it's 9 o'clock in the morning and we're supposed to be walking in the March of Dimes' March for Babies. I raised just over $700, just under my goal but still, our team as a whole raised about $6,000. (Thanks to all of you who donated directly and through Bondies for Babies! I love you!)

I wish I could see if our team won the family teams award like last year. My wagon is sitting in the front room all decorated because our theme was "NICU SURVIVOR." My son and I were going to wear camo.

It is the first time since my son was born that we didn't walk in this walk.

It feels weird and makes me want to cry.

My little one was up last night with a terrible fever and throwing up. I could have gone on the walk this morning with my older one, but I needed to take over the "next" shift after my husband pulled the all-nighter. Well I didn't need to, he could've handled it, but you know how it is. I got up and saw my husband sleeping on the floor in my little one's room and knew. I needed to be here.

My son got sick last night and I missed the walk today, but he slept in, we got up, I saw him eat again, I cleaned him up, sanitized his room, got everyone else fed and let my husband relax a little, instead of leaving at 6 a.m. to cram the 3 mile walk pulling a wagon into the day and worrying the whole way how he's doing and not enjoying that moment.

It's hard to let go of some of the things that are so important to me, like this walk.

But I'm trying a new approach to things and it's called (brilliantly), "letting go."

It's also called "cutting my losses," "living in the moment" or "come what may." But any way you put it, I'm trying to be at peace and guilt and sadness free with what happens and being one with my decisions.

It's not so easy though.

And it takes practice. I'm still practicing.

Now we're in sickness roulette, one of us may get it or NONE of us will get it! Who knows!? It's a wonderful game, isn't it!

And who knows, we might not race at all tomorrow.

But either way I'm ready for it.

And I'm hydrating with my giant water bottle.

Come what may, right? It's moment by moment up in here. I'm not anticipating anything and at the same time I'm anticipating everything.

So.

If no one is sick by 2 o'clock, I am picking up my race packet. If no one is sick by 8 o'clock tonight, I'm going to bed.

If no one is sick by 3 a.m., I'm waking up.

And if no one is sick by 7:30 a.m., I'M HEADED OFF INTO THE WATER in my orange swim cap. (ORANGE?! I WANTED PINK! But orange is my son's favorite color. That has always cracked me up and will definitely carry me through the swim. Even if I do look like fruit.)

Of course, I get almost everything that comes into this house so there is a good chance I may not be racing at all! However, the last time one of my sons pulled an all-nighter, no one else miraculously got it, so I'm clinging on to that. Strike that. Actually I'm just going to be one with whatever happens. Mkay? Now I'm just incessantly talking for the sake of hearing myself type.

For now, I hydrate.

If I go to bed tonight without any illness, I will post my traditional "Night before St. Anthony's" poem around bedtime and you'll know that I'm racing.

And tomorrow I will mobile post a picture from transition and you'll know I made it. (Of course I'll be tweeting from @christieo the whole time so you might know what's happening before then.)

But if it's Sunday and you're reading this, definitely one of us is hovered over the bowl, ok? So throw some "hope it passes quickly!" thoughts our way.

The Plight of Green Blanket

When we go away, I usually let the kids bring one blankie and one "friend" to keep them company. If we bring more than that, they're expendables (sorry, toys!) and if they get lost in the shuffle, well it's not that big of a deal.

(Amazing how watching Toy Stories 1,2, & 3 millions of times just made me feel guilty typing that.)

Anyway, almost every parent I know can sympathize with the plight of a lost blanket, too, in one form or another.

As soon as you say the words, "We lost the blankie," the words are met with a drastic gasp, followed by, "Nooooooooooooooooo!!!"

I'll never forget my lost blanket. When I was a little girl, I had a ratty old white blanket. We lived out in the sticks of upstate New York and every restaurant was a kajillion miles away.

Of course, that's where I left my blanket. At a restaurant a kajillion miles away. I think it was Easter. I remember my dad ordering the lamb.

I remember my beloved blanket's holes and its dirty offwhiteness that made it the perfect blanket. It was torn and ratty but it was thin and fit nicely in my hand when I sucked my pointer finger. I know, pointer finger? Oddly enough, my husband sucked his pointer finger too. (Match made in heaven!)

My daddy of course turned back to get it. I don't remember, but I was probably a wreck. I must have blocked it out.

Eventually, my mom empowered me subconsciously to eventually give up the blanket, and one day I just walked over to the trash, said, "I'm a big girl!" and tossed it in.

In hindsight, whaaaaa??? Why would I ever do that!? Poor blankie.

My son is not there yet. He's 5 now and he's had "Green Blanket" since he was a baby.

It's sort of brown-green now. We should really wash it more.

When we went to Disney last week, we left the hotel, enjoyed a whole day at Hollywood Studios, and right at that time where the kids are really spent and things are going downhill fast, we got to the car and made the discovery.

Green Blanket was gone.

It really could not have been worse timing.

My husband had already gone home because we drove separately and I was on my own with two tiny hot messes at dinner time (with no dinner in the near future) with the face paint half-smeared off by the mix of sweat and tiredness. Getting to the car without any crying or yelling had been a feat in and of itself.

There was a point earlier on where I knew we should have left (ya know, when everyone was still happy...) but I pushed it.

We overstayed.

So when we realized the blanket was missing there were tears. Even the little one was crying over his brother's blanket. His heart was broken too.

Then there was screaming.

And flailing.

The missing green blanket had indeed shoved him right over the edge that we were so delicately teetering on when we left the park.

I turned around on the highway before we got too far, called the hotel, no one was left in housekeeping; they were gone for the day and were sure to be listening to the madness in the background on their voicemail when they got back and got my message.

I felt for him too. I remember buying it, wondering if that would turn out to  be his "beloved" and lo and behold! It has!

When we got home and he longingly described his blankie, he even knew where the softer patches were and the rougher patches were. It was surprisingly detailed for a five year old.

Luckily, long ago, my mom bought the same blanket and we kept the spare at her house. It was a much cleaner, less worn version of it. I explained to him that we would get that and would that be ok? I knew just "switching it out" would not have worked.

He was sad but he said yes, that would be ok. (He's a trooper. Or any old blanket in the storm I guess?)

So.

He's been loving on that blanket for more than a week now, full well knowing and telling everyone that's not his "real" green blanket, that the "real" one is at the hotel. (I really was proud of myself for getting everything together and everyone out of the hotel in a timely manner, too! How could I have left one of the most important things!)

The "lesser" green blankie. I love how he rubs it on his cheek like that though. Sooo cute.

However.

On Thursday I got a call on my voicemail. It was a really excited head of housekeeping (who I thought said also had a 5 year old but it turns out she said, she also once had a LOST BLANKET, how I mixed that up I don't know) but either way, she was happy to report that the laundry service that does their sheets found the blanket all tied up in the sheets! And a tee-shirt too! (I still have no idea which tee-shirt.) But HELLO!

GREEN BLANKET WAS FOUND!!! I'm seriously thinking about sending a thank you card!

We had all resigned in our heads to the fact that it was gone forever, but it has miraculously turned up!!!!!! And it is in the mix of the U.S. Postal Service as we speak. We are just waiting, it could be any day now, it could even be today! It is just making a short trek from Orlando!

OOh I can't wait to see his face! Hooray!

So do you have any blankie, stuffed friend tragic losses and/or miraculous reunion stories? How heartbreaking ARE they?! This was quite an ordeal!!

Mantra Monday: (Insert Motivating Word Here)

Well it's time for a Mantra Monday and time to bring on the week ahead.

Only I'm feeling less, "Bring it on!" than "Eh, ok, let's bring it on... shall we?" in more of a "let's get this thing over with" sorta way.

Not very aggressive.

It seems like I have several great weeks in a row and then I have a frustrating one. But that's normal right?

I guess I'm just disappointed.

I thought I was going really fast in the race, I thought I was kicking some butt, and then when I crossed the finish line and got my time, turns out I didn't. Um, not at all in fact.

Wah wahhhh (that's my Debbie Downer sound.)

Yeah, I'm whining a little bit about it. Because I thought I came so far! I thought I was swimming like a shark!

Sigh.

So this is the week where I regroup.

Maybe that's the word I need this week: "regroup."

Ya know how you do a lot of stuff and you're doing really well and making breakthroughs and then all of a sudden you go through a test and you find out you're not as awesome as you think you are and then you feel frustrated and instead of working on the stuff you know you need to work on you feel like giving up and saying, "Well then what the heck am I doing this for anyway?"

?

Yeah, it's taking me all I have to not do that.

Because I want to.

I feel like I face this feeling every other month.

I mean, why is this so important anyway?

I was talking to a friend yesterday and we were talking about the things we see during training.

The beautiful sunrises, the dolphins in the water along the causeway, the feeling of the wind on your face and the water on your skin. The adrenaline, the endorphines, the feeling of life pumping through your veins.

It's really not about the race and the numbers in the end.

The reason I do it is because of the way it makes me feel when I'm doing it. What I see when I'm doing it. The way it makes me feel like I'm living and not letting life just pass me by. The rush and the push and answer to my question, "Can I do this?"

I get caught up in "doing it well" as opposed to "doing it" and sometimes just "doing it" isn't enough, I want more. Like everyone, eventually "good" is not "good enough." But whose definition of "good enough" am I using? The numbers on the board when I check my times and compare myself to everyone else? Or my own definition?

Because I had victories in that race even though the numbers might not say so.

The numbers don't tell the story of the race like I felt it.

So now, simply, it's just time to regroup.

Then dig in and push a little more.

But most of all, remember when I'm doing it, why I'm doing.

Because it's simply not just about the numbers.
* * *
What's YOUR mantra this week?

Leave it in the comments or blog about it and link up here!

Ps. Have you seen my Sigg Water Bottle giveaway? Going on right now, go to there!

Getting Out the Door is Like Battling the Universe Sometimes

I don't know what was with the universe last week but for some reason it did not want me to go out for my swim on one night in particular and if I'd have read the signs, I'd have just given up and turned back home.

But then let the universe win?

Noway.

I waited for my husband to get home from work and after eating dinner, I was saying goodnight to the kids. They wanted one story and then another. And then a drink of water and then some potty and more water and potty. No one wanted to sleep of course and it didn't matter anyway, I wasn't really needing to put them to bed it's just that it was taking me too long to extract myself from the situation.

So I finally did and let my husband do the dealing while I searched for my missing bathing suit and goggles.

I looked in the car for my goggles, I turned my room upside down, I found them hiding completely out in the open of course but I never found my bathing suit so I took one with me I hadn't worn in a while and then went to leave and couldn't find my keys.

So then I searched for my keys which I had left where I had found my goggles of course.

I headed to the door and the boys knew I was leaving so they came out to say goodbye and we did kisses then one of them plopped down on my foot and held my leg and wouldn't let go. And this went on for however much longer until I finally gave last hugs and got out the door.

I finally left and had to run a quick errand before the gym and when I went up to pay, the register froze and wouldn't let the customers in front of me pay and then wouldn't let me pay.

Longest line ever.

I get to the gym and put my stuff in my locker.

I left my goggles in the car.

Latest swim ever.

Maybe I'll get into the pool by 9 if I'm lucky.

I get my goggles, return to the locker room and put my swimsuit on. Finally, the very last step before actually getting into the pool! Hurrah!

Then quickly realized why I hadn't chosen to wear this particular swimsuit in a while.

The spandex in the back was worn and fighting for its own dear life to stay together. This is my second embarrassing swimsuit blowout.

That's unfortunate.

All you could see was black bathing suit, black bathing suit, until you get down toward my big white tuckus showing proudly through my black bathing suit where the spandex had worn out. And perhaps showing a little bit out the front too. On the top. Probably the two biggest purposes of coverage for the bathing suit in general and it was failing in both regions.

Very obviously the last time I will be wearing this bathing suit.

But I swam anyway, dammit, with all my parts happily submerged in the pool and quickly embraced by a towel upon pool exit.

So take that universe who tried to thwart me.

Me: 1
Universe: Zero.