I Am A Hero.

I’ve started reading Elizabeth Sims’ book, You’ve Got A Book In You. And like, three chapters in I have this revelation: I am a hero. Sims suggests that writing a book is heroic, and she says that heroes do 3 things:
1. Heroes take drastic risks. 
2. Heroes sacrifice themselves. 
3. Heroes push themselves. 

Let me break my heroism down so that you can write about it for the front page of a newspaper:

  1. I take drastic risks all the time. Like the other day, I ate some chicken from the fridge that was questionable. I licked a piece of brown something off the back of my hand. I went out shopping with the kids without a extra set of clothing and diapers. I didn’t shower. I didn’t shave my armpits. I popped a pimple. I slept in for a bit while the kids roamed the house without supervision and played with iPads. I mixed colors and whites in the washing machine. I wore capris in 12 degree weather. I paid my bills a day late. I didn’t put gas in the car until the light came on and said I had like, 5 miles left. Okay, so I didn’t do this all in the same day, but you get the idea. I’m as risky as Tom Cruise dancing in sunglasses and his underwear.                                                                                                                                                                                 
  2. I sacrifice my dinner pretty much every night. The kids would rather eat my boring chicken soup and toast over their Kraft Mac ’n Cheese and broccoli dinner. I sacrifice my sleep when they wake up in the middle of the night. I sacrifice my cleanliness on the days they are sick and need to be held all day. I sacrifice my privacy every time I use the bathroom. I not only sacrificed my body to have kids, but I sacrificed a clean house. I sacrifice my time. I sacrifice quiet.                                                                                                                                                 
  3. I push myself every morning that I wake up to go to the gym instead of sleeping. I push myself to write everyday, and post to my blog on Tuesdays. I push myself to clean the house every night its been ransacked, to cook, and to go grocery shopping instead of reading a book or watching movies all day. I push myself to stop eating the whole pizza/cake/bag of candy/*insert any sort of delicious food here*. I push myself to beat my husband at racquetball, even though a lot of the time that doesn’t happen. I push myself to be kind to others, when I really would rather yell or give them a lovely piece of my mind. I push myself to have positive thoughts, when being negative and miserable is SO MUCH EASIER. 
The definition of a hero says that it’s a distinguished man (seriously 2016? A MAN?) who possesses such attributes as: bravery, courage, noble qualities and deeds, or who is regarded as a model or ideal. 
Regardless of not being a man, I triumphantly tell the husband that I’m a hero. He squints his eyes skeptically at me, and turns back to his computer. I read him Sims’ prerequisites to being a hero, and he turns to me and says, “You’re missing a few. You don’t have cucumbers, or feta cheese, and you aren’t of mediterranean descent.” 

I am definitely not a Gyro

(Day 2: 553 words down. 14,060 to go.)  

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