Last week, seems like ages ago now, I was thinking about rules.

My rules.

The rules I make for myself.

The rules I live by.

I always imaged that everyone did this. But, my husband doesn’t. Why would anyone else?

On Gretchen Rubin’s personality quiz, I’m a questioner, which makes sense. It also makes sense that I read about the different frameworks for years and refused to look into it, because I felt like it was stupid for someone to tell me what I am.

I digress. As a questioner, or as I would have said, as a person, I research, I think, I analyze, and then I add a rule to my life.

Pretty easy.

But, lately, these rules that I made, they were starting to feel a little constricting.

They were hemming me in.

Some people might not think that I have very many rules. Some people may think that they are excessive. Some of you might just think they are silly. I get it. They are silly, restrictive, excessive, and lax. But, they are mine.

• On school days I wake up and journal for at least 10 minutes

• I don’t eat breakfast before 9am, but I do drink 2 glasses of water

• I do yoga before I eat breakfast

• I walk in the afternoons

• I go to bed by 10:30

There are more, of course. And, these are only the ones I have added over the last year. A year ago I did none of these things. Now they are second nature, although I can get quite uptight about making sure that things get done on my schedule.

I realize that these don’t seem bad. They aren’t terrible rules. They might make you think that I’m blowing things out of proportion.

Maybe I am.

But, I also make all of our food, I homeschool my youngest, I coach my younger son’s basketball team, I’m getting our house ready to put back on the market, and I’m trying desperately not to live in a pigsty.

And, then, all hell broke loose on Friday afternoon.