Livin' La Vida Luna y Luca
Daddy Yells a lot...
In the spirit of radical candor and consistently sharing the "biggest" story of my week, here's one I'm not particularly proud of...
"Daddy yells a lot in this house, Mommy. Maybe we should go back to our last house. He was happier there."
Luna confides in Dia at the dinner table after I aggressively read Luca his rights for throwing food on the floor for the hundredth time that week.
First, I looked through her in anger... recoiling and ready to snap back with something snarky. Then our eyes met, and I found myself defeated and in disbelief.
Luna was right. I've been absolutely miserable to be around, and she just gave me the reality check I needed to cut the bullshit and fix it.
She made this comment about three weeks ago.
We were >2 weeks past the projected delivery date of Project Oliver and creeping up on 2 weeks past the projected delivery date of Project Silver Spring.
The overwhelming feelings behind my inability to deliver these homes on time were embarrassment, inadequacy, and shame.
We went under contract to sell these homes MONTHS ago and had more than enough time to wrap them up nicely and tie a bow on them before handing over the keys.
But we couldn't do it. And it would be easy to blame subcontractors who took their sweet time finishing their job or inspectors who needed to feel important, but it doesn't work like that. The buck stops with me.
And that's OK. Because I signed up for this. I wanted this life.
What I don't want, however, is for the stress of my work to impact the version of me my family experiences.
Why should my kids get the impatient version of Daddy because I failed an inspection? Why should Dia be satisfied with one-word responses and a disinterested cold shoulder because the tax assessor only works one day per week, and we missed her last window by <12 hours.
They shouldn't.
Transcendental Meditation
Enter TM: a simple–yet very effective–way to enjoy inner peace, dissolve stress, and access your full potential.
^ at least that's what it says on the website.
I was desperate. And I thought something expensive and inconvenient might lead to change.
Because, unfortunately for me, the regular tactics I use to empty my buckets weren't doing the trick. The droplets of stress accumulated to a point where it was hard to focus on anything else but the importance of holding on to those thin metal handles so I didn't spill everything and make even more of a mess.
I booked a week-long in-person course and got started right away.
After Monday and Tuesday's sessions of this past week, I didn't notice much change in my mood or attitude, but I did find myself in bed and asleep before 9pm both nights.
On Wednesday, I realized I was craving vegetables. I ended up eating raw veggies as snacks twice that day. And at night, Dia put a bowl of ice cream down in front of me, which I politely declined (I don't think that's ever happened).
When I told my teacher about these instances he explained it away by saying TM is a balancing agent. It's possible that I wasn't getting enough sleep these past few weeks and my diet likely lacked low-density foods.
Thursday was the real breakthrough moment...
I can't be sure if it was the TM or the hour-long conversation I had with my real estate investor accountability group. I opened Thursday's call asking for advice on how to not let the stress from work negatively impact our home life. Everyone shared their version of a similar story, and I was mostly happy to hear I wasn't alone.
Anyway, back to Thursday afternoon. We drove home from school with the windows down and the music blasting. We played tickle-tag while Dia put dinner together. We breezed through dinner without an incident.
It was the first block of time (in a long time) where it was just pure joy. No consequences, just connection.
I even found the courage to come clean to Luna during bath time.
"So remember when you said Daddy yells in this house more than our last house? I've been thinking about that a lot, and I wanted to tell you that I signed up for a meditation class this week. And I've been going every day to practice my breathing and reducing my stress, and I'm hoping it helps me be more patient, more lovey, more funny, and just better for you, Luca, and mommy."
"You're still thinking about when I said that?"
"Yeah, it's like... all I can think about."
"Are you sad?"
"Yes. I'm sad that I was yelling too much and that I wasn't being a good dad for the past few weeks. But I'm happy you told me."
"Don't be sad... You're. The. Best. Daddy ... Ever"
"I'm trying"
🥹
