Before you spit out your coffee on the monitor (for the “Get clean or die folks.”), please note this. And no it’s not my middle finger. Yet. Okay not too much. Moving along now.  Anyway, my proposed title is not in reference to the steps or slacking on recovery work in any way, shape, or form.  Perhaps just a newfangled idea that bespeaks itself of *looks around* self control. Shhh. I know. Can’t say that awfully loud.

Self control??? Are you freakin’ kidding me? All this time people in recovery spout about how we HAVE no power, to give it ALL to G-D (or whatever deity floats your spiritual skipper).  Ahem.  Let me be so bold. So bold to state that we DO indeed have a modicum of choice in this matter of being in recovery.  We all have “made a decision”, “launched on a course of vigorous action”, “continued to take personal inventory”.  You get the idea. Good lord I hope you do anyway.  (the BOLD words are verbs by the by. VERB = ACTION = CHOICE. just sayin.)

Now that that little bit of debauchery has been addressed. Let me tell you a short story.  The short part being my seven year old daughter aka Mini Ninja Ella B.  As we were finishing up our evening, getting ready for the week ahead by changing the sheets and putting away laundry;  we discussed the metaphysical idea of “enough”.  “How do you know enough is enough Mom?”  (I flippin’ LOVE it when she talks that way … she is SO my teacher).  “What do you mean exactly dollface?” I reply, knowing that something gooooooood is about to take place.

She launches into this rather astounding ideology of how too much of a good thing, always isn’t so good.  Her biggest example was our pool and dare I say it …  summer.  “You know Mommy, when we first get the pool ready and swim everyday and the sun always shines so bright and it’s fun and we eat popsicles and stay up late and … and … and … *pause for breath*.  I’m ready for fall Mom. I wanna feel the cool on my face and kick the leaves.  Smell you baking pies and wear footy pajamas (awww).”  I tell you, this girl is one sharp character.  I bow to the teachings of the Mini Ninja … and I’m not even lyin’.

After our tirade of made up stories about ninja princesses and the unicorn rebellion, a kiss on the cheeks and a blown kiss for good measure; she leaves me with this.  “Sometimes a little bit of something is better than all the time right? If you have it all the time, it’s not quite as special.” I pick my jaw up and gently shut the door.

Now really. In our alcoholic/addict addled brains, do we do the “moderation” dance well?  If something is “good”, I know I for one want it again and again and again and … ad nauseum.  I’m a writer. (shhh don’t let that get around) So I figure if I sit at this computer (when the girls are on their visitation or post story time or when they’re eating or playing or having “their” time) and type til’ my fingers bleed that’s a good thing right? Yeah. Not always so.  My poor Delilah (dell computer lol) caught a heckuva cold today and I was bereft of the tool for my craft.  Post temper tantrum, and reinstalling windows and drivers and omg, we had a helluva ninja day.  House is clean as a whistle and the ninjas are all played out. I may, however, need to replenish my makeup after today’s beauty shop show down.

I’ve done that with everything at one time or another.  I was a meeting-o-holic for years.  Now, put yer fingers down, I’d rather have been an obsessive meeting attender than drunk. But there came a time when I had to get back into life as well. Perhaps take a walk? Ride a bike? See a movie? (who knew you could do THAT sober?) Spend time with loved ones to SHOW them how recovery had helped heal my sickly soul.  Novel idea no?  If I’m in the “lack of self control” mode, being impulsive and zig zagging through life without the benefit of mindfulness; I am sure to “overdo” it everytime.  Like a puppy or a 16 year old in heat, many times to the point of frenzied obsession.  (okay that’s been a long time ago so shushit) Writing doesn’t count does it? Okay. I LIKE the idea of missing my keyboard.  Time away is sometimes a very good thing.

Recovery, if you have the sense to see/hear/feel it, is around you all the time.  Out of the mouth of my Ninja B, I am awash in divine inspiration.  As for the other two, they continued to jump from one brightly decorated twin bed to the other. Over and over and over … until of course my baby J landed flat on her rump. On the floor.  “A couple times is fun JJ.” Says Ella Bella, “Do it too much and you’ll get hurt.”  Indeed. A little goes a long long way.

And as for me? I fixed up the old girl and Del and me and the internets are gonna pal around for a bit … at least until I need new bandages for my typing-addled digits.