Saving my Tupperware

When my “To-do” list reached two pages of college ruled paper, each line filled up, I knew I had issues. And I’m not talking “dream to-do’s” like cleaning the fridge, reorganizing the spices, finally sewing that button on my kid’s pants. No, I’m talking huge, time consuming projects, like running a fundraising campaign for $300,000 for my church. Yeah, those kind of to-dos.

I had my list with me on Friday when I went to the doctor with my daughter for her strep test. I bumped into some friends, who saw me with my list. “Girlfriend, you need to learn the art of saying NO,” said one of them, in total earnestness.

No. I hate that word. I am a YES kind of mom. If it is physically possible for me to do it, (and it’s good for them) then I like to say Yes to my kids. I also like to say Yes to my friends, because I want to show them I love them. I want to say YES to my church, because I want to contribute. And I want to say Yes to my community.

I want to say Yes to my readers, who spend their time writing to encourage me. And I want to say Yes to new writers who need a little encouragement back. I want to say Yes to my husband, who needs a listening ear. And I want to say Yes to my children’s school, because if I don’t, who will?

I am a Yes girl. And the idea of saying No makes my stomach churn. But I had a dream recently about coming home to discover that someone had gone through my house and decided to have a garage sale. (Yes, for those who know, that was probably more of a memory!). The thing was – they took all my good stuff, the stuff I wanted to keep, and didn’t put out the boxes and boxes of stuff I wanted to get rid of. I ran frantically through my house, rescuing my pictures and dishes, and replacing them with old clothes, shoes, and books. “Don’t get rid of my Tupperware!” I remember shouting, in my dream.

It occurred to me after I woke up (and after checking to make sure I still had my Tupperware) that maybe this was all metaphorical. All these Yes’s I keep saying have stolen my time from the Important Yes’s in my life. Like my quiet time, my family time, my writing time. It’s like the garage sale people, coming in to take away the stuff I value…leaving me with the stuff I’ve really wanted to get rid of for a long time.

Like commitments that others could do just as well, or better than me. Or opportunities to serve that I’m taking from others.

I expressed my angst to my girlfriend, who responded with. “Saying NO is a craft, an art, and you have to work on it. But here’s a tool…You don’t have to say the word No. Say… ‘That doesn’t work for me right now’.” Ah-ha!

Can you run the Children’s Musical? That doesn’t work for me right now.
Can you bring three dozen cupcakes to the class party? That doesn’t work for me right now.
I like it!

It’s a season of Yes’s for many of us. So, I give you this tool as a gift… “That doesn’t work for me right now!” Let’s say it all together, now!

Now go, enjoy your Tupperware.

Susan May Warren is a former missionary to Russia and lover of great stories. When not penning riveting (I hope!) suspense novels for Tyndale and Steeple Hill, she can be found in Minnesota, storing up the good stuff in her Tupperware. Her newest book is Chill Out, Josey, the hilarious adventures of a Minnesota girl who goes to Russia. And be sure and stop by WHO'S RAFE? for a glimpse at her upcoming book (out in January!). Read more about susan at her website or stop by her blog!

Comments

[PatriciaW]

I can so relate. I love it!

[Deena @ My Bookshelf]

Yes! I so get that! And my 17 year old daughter has people pleaser syndrome as well...I'm trying to help her realize that it is okay to say "no" and sometimes it is necessary....

[Rachelle G.]

Great post, Susan. Crazy dream! I love the line "That doesn't work for me right now." What I've started using is, "I'm sorry, my schedule won't allow it." Like it's not my fault, talk to my schedule! My schedule is such a taskmaster! It allows me to pass off the blame and not feel guilty.

[Crystal Laine Miller]

Ok, I have Tupperware angst, too(and am seriously hanging onto the Salad Shooter that I have never used, but my mother, who has been dead for 10 years, gave it to me.)

But I say yes for all the wrong reasons--I say yes, because I really want to say no and I feel guilty for wanting to always say no. I'm sure that is some sort of weird psychological mess up. I think you are great for always wanting to say yes.

You are a good person and I admire you for that.