Transcript
A (0:00)
If you could hear love, what would it sound like?
B (0:11)
Son, can we talk about your drinking?
A (0:15)
Yeah, Dad, I think we should. Helping those closest to you think about their excessive drinking. Maybe that's what love sounds like. More@rethinkthedrink.com an OHA initiative.
C (0:32)
And Doug here we have the Limu Emu in its natural habitat, helping people customize their car insurance and save hundreds with Liberty Mutual. Fascinating. It's accompanied by his natural ally, Doug.
D (0:47)
Uh, limu is that guy with the binoculars watching us?
C (0:50)
Cut the camera. They see us.
E (0:52)
Only pay for what you need@libertymutual.com Liberty.
D (0:55)
Liberty Liberty Liberty Savings Ferry Unwritten by.
E (0:58)
Liberty Mutual Insurance Company and affiliates Excludes Massachusetts.
D (1:01)
Thank you for listening to my morning monologue sponsored by Native Path Collagen, the collagen I take daily to support healthy joints, skin, bones and gut. Go to getnativepath.com drlaura for free shipping and a special bundle deal at a fraction of the retail price. Remember, you can hear my radio program daily on Sirius XM triumph and connect with me 24.7@drlaura.com this morning I read an article in tinybuddha.com I like to read stuff in there. It's philosophically poignant and interesting. This one is by Rena Althoff. Why I Now complain Less and appreciate more. I was just going to jump off from this with my own ranting and raving, but this is so well written. I'd like to read most of it to you. You're going to like it. Especially I want you to make sure your youngish adult children read this. Even younger, teenage to younger, have to hear this. So we'll. We'll post it. It's not happy people who are thankful. It is thankful people who are happy. Rena writes, I used to be a complainer, a fault finder, a grumbler. I would grumble 100 times a day about mundane issues, be it weather, traffic, my husband. I complained when my husband didn't help me around the house and grumbled when he did help. It took me some time to realize that it was not him or his lack of housekeeping skills that made me unhappy. I was unhappy because I was turning into an ungrateful person. This is brilliant. I have some fond and not so fond memories of my childhood. When I was a kid, my parents force fed me green vegetables, limited my television and playtime. They wanted me to study and do homework and made me go to sleep every night at 8:30. All I wanted was freedom. Freedom from homework, freedom to do Whatever I wanted. I was 9 years old when I first expressed my ingratitude to my parents. One day after school, instead of boarding the school bus that would take me home, I boarded the one that took me to my friend's house. I thought this would be the end to the horrible veggies and boring homework. But things didn't go as planned. My friend's father got in touch with my dad who drove down to take me back home. As I nervously watched my dad step out of the car, I noticed worry etched on his face. He gently put his protective hands around my shoulders and said, lets go home. We drove home in silence. Gradually, guilt found its way into my heart. When we approached home, I peered through the windows of the car and spotted a tired, lean figure standing by the gate of the house. My mom. I got down from the car, tentatively took one step toward her. Gazing into her moist eyes, I gingerly called out mummy. She took me in her arms, hugged me tightly while crying into my school shirt. As my tiny hands held her, I realized my mistake today. When I look back to that incident, I realize now that as a child I took for granted all that my parents did for me. In a world where some girls are denied an education, at times buried alive, where orphanages are filled with children abandoned by their parents, here were my parents who catered to all my needs and prepared me for the future. In this unfair world, I was blessed with parents who gave me a fair chance at life to grow and to prosper. My parents indeed planted the first seeds of gratitude when I was still a kid. But it wasn't until I attained motherhood that I truly understood the importance of showing gratitude. Like every first time mother, I went through anxious moments looking after and raising my baby with my hyperactive daughter. Things just seemed like a never ending battle. Grant crayon painted walls, carrot juice stains on the carpet, moisturizers and lipsticks tested on every piece of furniture and toys scattered around. I longed for peace, I longed for rest. And I longed for a clean house. I complained and cribbed about how being a mother was the toughest job in the world. Until one day I visited a friend whose six month old son was admitted to the hospital as he was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy, a genetic disorder that affects all the muscles, including the muscles of the heart.
