Arm's distance
I notice pretty quickly, that I can start to throw a pretty awesome pitty party for myself. There is a lot of pressure in life. The week happens, and I begin to uplift my own labor. I put myself on a super high pedal stool: I work from home, watch the kids, clean the house, do the yard work, taxi Harrison around town, feed the baby, try to get a work out in, make breakfast, clean breakfast, make lunch, clean it, then dinner (by the way, Jon rocks because he takes the load off the laundry, and makes dinner most nights- this is a picture of my inner dialogue, not a clear depiction of the actual #truth...hashtag truth...)...and if Jon gets home, and he is having a bad day, I often start to desire strongly to not listen to his stress, but instead, I want so badly to compete. I have an evil, natural wanting to place my burdens on him. I'm really dramatic about it. So not only has Jon had a bad day, but I want him now to experience my stress. Even if it's not as bad as I can make it