Slacklining was not on my original list, and I don’t know why. We’ve owned a slack line for more than a year, and none of the family have been able to make more than a step without a shoulder, literally, to lean on. You’d think I’d have crossed that off my list of things that are just too hard to bother, but I didn’t. When my racecar driver cancelled (spoiler alert, it won’t happen this year), I had to find a replacement activity. I found it in our backyard.

Isn’t that often the case though? We look beyond our walls for the fun, excitement, thrills, or entertainment when really, we don’t have to work so hard. The grass is always greener and all.

I’ve said that already though so I’ll pontificate on something else. Let’s talk pedicures since mine is highlighted in this video. I love having my feet worked on. I stress the whole time, but I’m so happy when it is over.

Then why stress, Kristine? For the same reason, I floss before the dentist and tidy before the cleaning lady shows up. I know she does it every day and I have seen some really exceptional cases sitting beside me. Wonky toes, missing nails, ingrown and infected toenails, and fungus have all lounged in those chairs. Why do these people feel so fucking comfortable having their green tea with the massager going on full blast and I’m conscious of hair I missed in my pre-appointment grooming and that weird triangle nail on my pinky toe that she tries to file round?

I would love to understand why I do this (and don’t you dare tell me I’m alone because if I call to say I’m on my way over, you WILL put on a bra). I don’t feel like I care enough and that’s why I do the work ahead of time. Is it a common courtesy thing? Was I actually taught always to put my best foot forward because I don’t recall that lesson? Am I embarrassed about my own filth? Fear of judgement is most likely.

Whatever the reason, every time I pre-prepare I wonder why I can’t just let it be, why I just can’t cut myself some slack. And, there we have it, folks, the tie around back to the original topic is upon us. Slack. Giving ourselves permission to be judged and survive. Be less than, and make it through. We need to give ourselves consent to fall off that slackline a hundred times with our pedicures, or lack thereof, on display and not judge ourselves. Because isn’t that the worst of it? How persistent we are with our own self-judging, we extrapolate that onto others when likely they are just thinking about their own shit too while they go about their job.

Take a moment to be the man with the mangled digit, foot fungus, warty mess enjoying a moment of relaxation and pampering before he gets on with his day. Answer the damn door in your jammies and enjoy the visit. Maybe just once, leave the house a mess and see how the transformation makes you feel. I bet you won’t even remember the disaster it was when you went until the first kid walks through the door and throws their dirty socks on the floor in front of you. Hey, but cut them some slack while you’re practicing. Keep up the zen, pour that glass and point at the offending object and see if they take the hint. Save your voice for happy thoughts, like “Yes, I would like the paraffin heel wax.” Now that’s better.

My Turning 50 Like a Boss Tip: Remember to cut yourself some slack.

Check out the video: Slacking Off

 

 

Author

Kristine Laco shares the stories we all have with a splash of sarcasm, a pinch of bitch and a ton of wine at Adulting In Progress dot com. Her middle finger is her favourite and she lives by the motto that if you are not yelling at your kids, you are not spending enough time with them. She takes selfies at the gyno. Taco Tuesday is her gospel. Reality TV is real folks. She is making turning 50 a job because she doesn't have one.

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