Happy Wednesday, folks.

Last week, my son was getting into the shower, and he said, matter-of-factly, that he liked butts.

If you happen to know my youngest son, this type of statement is not at all out-of-the-ordinary. He is a surprising, funny, amazing little bird.

Through a veiled smile, I said, “Huh! What do you like about them?”

“That they’re big and round,” his small voice echoed over the shower wall, “I think I’m going to write a song. A song about how much I like big, round butts.”

And he proceeded to sing a [delicate, actually, considering the tone this could have taken] ditty about tooshies and his affinity for them.

I nearly tossed out a sarcastic quip about Sir Mix-A-Lot, and his own penchant for the hindquarters, but I realized if he knew that “someone” had already written a song with the love of butts in mind, maybe he wouldn’t dare to try it.

And he would start down a big, bad but road.

So I kept my mouth closed, and listened along to his sweet song.

His twin brother also likes buts – BUT it’s the conjunction, not the body part.

He’s a yeah, butter.

I’m tired and want to go to sleep, but Sam is staying up so I am too.

I’m thirsty, but I don’t want to get up to get a drink from the kitchen.

I changed my clothes, but I’m wearing yesterday’s boxer shorts. {really?!}

You get the idea.

{I’ve taken to singing the Priceline Negotiator tune when he starts yeah, butting me.}

And then there are people who use their buts to qualify things – or to make excuses.

I love you, but…

I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but…

I really want to go to church, but…

I’ve heard it been said that the words that come before the “but” end up meaningless.

Ouch.

It makes me really think of things I have said to people, or vice versa, where the “but” was the crux.

I want to work with high-end clients, but…so-and-so already has a great reputation in that circle.

I want to start my own business, but…I’m so busy with my kids.

I want to make a difference in the world, but I don’t have my PhD.

In my own life, my buts were related to my schedule.

I’d love to spend the day at the beach with you guys, but I’m swamped.

I want to take on another client, but I’m already running around like a crazy lady.

I planned to have a healthy dinner prepared tonight, but by the time I looked up, it was five o’clock.

I used it to be polite. Or let someone down easy. Or make myself feel better.

My Juicy Glad-I-Caught-That: “The key is not to prioritize what’s on your schedule, but to schedule your priorities.” ~Stephen Covey

What about your but? Is it so big that you’re tripping over it?

I prefer the other side of the but – the side of possibility, or at the very least, the hard- and-fast truth.

If you made the words before the but the only option, how would that feel?

I’m tired and want to go to sleep. Hard stop.

I love you. Hard stop.

I want to work with high-end clients. Hard stop.

Ahhhhhh…so nice!

Before, my but was rarely an accurate representation of what I really meant.

Because if I wanted to, I would have. If I loved you, I wouldn’t use that fact to qualify something or to get my way.

I would have prioritized my day, my life, and my business in order to make it happen.

I’m more careful with my but these days ☺.

As a result, I say a lot less. Because when I say it, I mean it [a lesson my children sometimes learn the hard way].

And I’m listening a lot more. Because when I hear a but, it makes my ears perk up.

The next time my son wants to make-up a song about his love of big butts, or try out for the basketball team, or ask that pretty girl out on a date, or apply to Chapel Hill – I don’t want to hear him say, “I want to, but…”

I want him to go for it.

What are you going to go for now that your but can’t get in your way?

See you on the flip-side.

In love,

Noelle
xoxox