I already blew the NaBloPoMo thing. I think I was a day off from the beginning.
How about I take my mind off it by posting some Halloween pics two weeks late? That, I can do.
I’ve been running regularly since last January. Except for lately not so much. The more stressed out I get, the less time I have for exercise. The less I exercise, the more I feel stressed. Hello, vicious cycle.
I’m attempting to post from a WordPress app on my iPhone. Did it work?
One of the reasons I joined NaBloPoMo is to make myself get on a regular writing schedule. Here it is Day 2 and I almost failed miserably. ALMOST.
So I’m going to give this a try. I will attempt to post every single day for the month of November. Why, you ask? Good question. I guess I’m just a fan of self-imposed arbitrary deadlines. Go figure. Plus, I thought this little badge was cute.
I’m 37. I’m a happy 37, but 37 nonetheless. This means I’m 2.5 years away from being 40. I’m typing these things out loud because I just can’t believe it’s true. I swear to god I was just 10 years-old running around outside playing kickball at all hours of the day and night with my friends. I just learned how to drive with Mr. Bailey in the back seat, hands over his eyes. Wasn’t that just yesterday? No. It wasn’t. But it sure feels like it.
I’ve accomplished a lot in my career and I couldn’t be more blessed with family, but I’m realizing lately that there is still a lot more I want to do. A lot more I want to accomplish. Some of these things are extraordinary – they require planning and goal setting and a focus that, thus far, I haven’t been able to muster. Some of them are less so – some are things I could do right now if I were to decide that today is the Day. I feel the need to gather these ideas and dreams and pin them to my shirt.
I was inspired by this post from Gwen Bell (whom I don’t know personally, but the internet thinks she’s lovely), to get started on my Personal Manifesto. Among other things, she suggested making a Life List, the most famous of which is probably Maggie Mason’s. So, here’s my first attempt – my rough draft of ideas…
1. Host an amazing dinner party for friends old and new.
2. Own a home on a lake where friends and family are always welcome.
3. Travel to Paris alone.
4. Take kids to Washington D.C.
5. Live year round on Mackinac Island.
6. Write a young adult novel.
7. Run a marathon.
8. Vacation in Big Sur.
9. Take a cross country family road trip.
10. Take the kids to Europe.
11. Save $25,000.
12. Write an essay and have it published.
13. Find an opportunity to volunteer.
14. Eat sushi.
15. Teach the kids to snow ski.
16. Teach the kids to water ski.
17. Take a week long bicycle trip along Lake Michigan.
18. Camp at Sleeping Bear Dunes.
19. Learn to change a tire.
20. Throw a big party for someone who deserves it.
Wow, this is hard…I think I’ll do 20 at a time….
Do you have a Life List? Would you share some of your ideas in the comments, pretty please?
I have a hard time keeping up with all the funny stuff that Wixi says in the course of a day. There are scraps of paper laying all over the house with random thoughts, ideas and opinions confidently stated in the way that only Kindergarten kids can muster. His latest observation came when I asked him to push me on a swing at the park. After a couple of pushes he said very seriously, “You are a heavy woman.”
Mimi: “So, Mom. About when was George Clooney President?”
Wixi: “Dinosaurs were the first irectiles on Earth.”
The other day Mimi asked if she could play on my laptop. I said “No way.” Then her dad looked at me the way he does when he thinks I’m being unreasonable. She noticed that look and saw an opportunity – I could tell because her eyes flashed and the corner of her mouth turned up ever so slightly. Then she asked me again – this time very sweetly and innocently with just a hint of evil. So, I sighed and gave in because lord knows I do not want to seem unreasonable.
Soon she was bored with the online game she was playing and asked her dad to download something new. My ears pricked up and I looked over disapprovingly, but the thing about Tim is that he doesn’t notice those things. He is not as perceptive as me, you see.
So they downloaded some game that would let her play for free for a half hour. “And then what?” I asked, nervous that we would be charged hefty hefty fees as a reward for being so stupid as to download random virus filled internet games. Tim said, “If we go one minute over, your computer will explode.”
I shot him a look that said YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS.
It didn’t matter to me that this game was recommended by her teacher and will help her learn math, maybe. I don’t like other people messing with my computer. Not even other people that are my family. Is this really that unreasonable? Especially when we have a family computer ten times more powerful than my rickety old laptop? The only solution was to leave the room.
Later, I went to work on my laptop and discovered that they had changed the resolution to make the game fit the screen. My fonts were all messed up and the picture I had of the kids holding a tiny toad as my desktop image was gone. Gone!
I messed around for 20 minutes trying to restore order on my machine. Order in my brain. Order in my life. My laptop is really the one thing that I have that’s mine – that I can set up just how I want and it doesn’t affect anyone else. I honestly felt violated. So, when Tim came down and put his arm around me and asked what’s up? I may have been unreasonable. I may have sounded like a crazy person almost in tears trying to get him to see how the text – the fonts – they look different to me now. “What did you do to it?” I asked, pleading.
This time he didn’t give me a look. He did a quick search for my desktop photo and restored it and he changed the resolution to every available option until I thought it was starting to look like my computer again. So I gave him a look.
It said thanks, sweetie, but I told you you would pay.
So much to say, so little time energy to say it. My life in a nutshell:
1. My little guy has started Kindergarten. He feels like he’s finally found his people and that I owe him a huge apology for keeping this classroom a secret for his first 5 years of life. Also, his teacher’s name is Mrs. Looney. Mrs. LOONEY.
2. Mimi has taken to smelling her pits each evening and demanding I buy her deodorant. Of course, I think she’s too young, so I made her let me smell her pits. And damn if she didn’t stink like sweet sweet prepubescent roses. Are they still making Tickle? If shoulder pads can come back from the 80s, surely Tickle can too. Because I will die before I buy Hannah Montana deodorant. Do they make Hannah Montana deodorant?? Good god, if they don’t I’m a genius.
