In this moment

The phrase living in the moment seems so happy and free, so why is it so elusive? I won't speak collectively, but for my own life I know that I have spent most of my time either contemplating the past or wondering about the future. To what end? Has it made me better prepared to think through many different what if scenarios? Has it ever helped me to change mistakes I've made in the past? The answer to both is that is hasn't.

I think a healthy dose of reflection to process things we've done in our past is helpful, but only so much as we process them to a place where we can forgive ourselves of any mistakes and move on. Any more lingering in the past I think holds us back from living fully. As a parent I've seen that this is likely universal (small sample size of my own children, so humongous leap to say it is universal I know). I've watched my children make their own mistakes. I've stood by them to help them process what they've done or forgotten to do, and tried my best to help them cope with those feelings. After being a shoulder for them to cry on, talking through everything that happened, and projecting a bit about what might happen next, the best I can come up with is that it will hurt for a while but eventually it will hurt less. I think sometimes we learn our greatest lessons by teaching another. I struggle with perfectionism, but being a parent has helped me to shed that burden better than anything else I've encountered. I've told my kids that they are human, and they will make mistakes because that is part of human nature. I've told them that they are only 9 and only 11, and nobody expects such young children to be right every single time. I remind them of my age and tell them that I'm still making mistakes every single day, but I'm still here learning and growing each day. I've told them that sometimes mistakes are big, and sometimes you can't fix them, but even those unfixable mistakes teach us great lessons. In my case I'd say that the more I try to teach my kids to move on from their past mistakes, the more I'm able to do it for myself.

Projecting about the future is harder for me to tackle. We all want to be prepared for what might come next. At work it absolutely makes sense to do the tasks you need to complete in order to be ready for a big presentation or client meeting, or whatever else it might be. What doesn't work for me is going through what if scenarios to predict how people might respond to that big presentation. It is almost always better to just ask the people you are worrying about what they think. Maybe the key is deciding what you need to focus on now and knowing that the future will remain uncertain until it becomes the present? Or maybe it is always a tricky balance that involves a conscious decision to stop worrying about what might be when I find myself fixating about it.

My last post about expectations touched on this too. This is clearly an area where I have more work to do. I think that my knowledge that this is a trouble area for me is powerful though. I'm more aware of it, and therefore I'm less likely to be drug down in the details of it for long. Like so many other things I've seen, once you see them you can't unsee them. I know that my tendency is to do everything myself rather than to ask for help from anyone. When I'm in the middle of one of those cycles I tend to feel resentful of the bystanders who aren't helping me though. They aren't helping me because I never asked for their help, but yet I want them to just know that I need help without asking for it. I can see how crazy this cycle is, and now whenever I get into one of these cycles and my first urge it to be mad at the bystanders I instead see that I again didn't ask for help. This could lead me to be angry at myself for not asking for help, and it did when I first recognized this pattern. However, now that knowledge has led me to a place where I actually ask for help when I need help. I don't always ask for help, but I do more and more.

I think living in the moment is a great goal. It is likely a goal that most of us won't fully achieve in our lifetimes. There will always be a balance between reflecting on the past and projecting about the future. I guess the alternative is pretty aptly played out in the robin who keeps flying into the windows on the back of our house. He is pretty convinced that the reflections he sees are other birds trying to come into his nesting territory. He doesn't learn from the hundreds of past mistakes because he is living in the moment always, he also doesn't project his past mistakes into the future to stop himself from whacking into another window painfully. Reflection and projection are gifts, and living in the moment is too. I think in order to life in the moment you need to know how to reflect and project effectively. I think that rather than repeatedly flying into windows painfully I'll take this alternative. I'll accept that at times I will reflect too much, and at times I will project too much, but every once in a while I will find myself fully enjoying the present - living in the moment.

The bird is remarkably able to evade photos but he loves this window

Expectations

My family and I went on a spring break trip to Florida. My goal for the trip was for our family to go to a place with a beach, with warm temperatures, and an ocean. I wanted to lay on the beach or by a pool and read a book, dipping myself into the water when I felt too hot, but otherwise relaxing. In my pre-trip planning conversations with T, he pointed out to me that my vision for what the vacation would be did not match up with reality. I ignored him. It is not as if I am new to this. We have taken many vacations with our kids, and each time my vision of the vacation does not match up with the reality. Apparently T had learned from each of those past vacations, and I chose to remain stubborn in accepting the truth. His advice had been to skip the vacation and just stay home with the kids where we are all comfortable in our routines so at least the anxiety that comes from being in a new place, sleeping in a new bed, etc. didn't come into play. As I said, I ignored him. I told T that it was important for me to give our kids new places to visit and explore, new ways to expand their worlds. He relented, and we planned the vacation or maybe more accurately I trampled over him and I planned the vacation.

Fast forward to the actual vacation, we made it to Florida and ultimately made it to our hotel on the beach. Our room was great - a 2 bedroom suite with a full kitchen and 3 televisions, a short walk to the beach, and a nice pool with ample lounge chairs around it. And then the reality of what it means to vacation with 3 other people, two of which are children, who all have their own agendas sunk in. The Girl deals with uncertainty by wanting to numb which usually means watching TV or some other screen - those 3 televisions in our suite were heaven sent for her. One of our struggles during the vacation became a battle with her about not just sitting inside and watching Cartoon Network or Disney Channel, but rather enjoying the warm weather we had traveled to. The Boy internalizes his angst, and then blows up when he can't contain it anymore. T and I have our own struggles that add to the powder keg and make a vacation with our family kind of uncertain and ready to blow at just about any moment for any small reason.

 

I think I finally get now that it is my expectations about what I want the vacation to be, and how I want everyone else to act that cause me (and the rest of the family as a result) the most angst. I know that I was somewhat determined to prove T wrong, to show him that our kids are now old enough for a vacation, and that we would all have a great time. If I had been able to let go of what I wanted to happen, and just enjoyed the what is happening perhaps things could have been a little smoother. Or not. I think the reality is that even though there were hungry whiney children (and adults!) who didn't eat exactly at the right meal time, and ate too much junk food, and watched too much tv, and freaked out over trivial things (me most likely) we still had fun. My kids got to go snorkeling for the first time in their lives. We saw a wild tortoise who was very curious about humans and seemed completely unafraid. We saw some beautiful sunsets - and I saw a beautiful sunrise while the rest of the family slept. We got to walk on a beautiful beach, bask in the sun, and swim in the ocean. We learned how to make perfect hotel Belgian waffles in a crowded hotel breakfast bar. We found some pretty shells. We tried to see manatees unsuccessfully, but even that failed venture has become part of our family story.

In the end, both T and I were right. The vacation was a disaster, and our kids are old enough to enjoy a great family vacation. Our summer vacation will likely be in driving distance for us, and I'm sure it will be terrible and fabulous at the same time. I make no promises about letting go of my expectations, but maybe I can snap myself out of them a little bit faster in the future. The best part of taking a lot of pictures while on vacation is that over time you forget all of the whiney parts of a vacation and you look at the pictures and remember the wonder and the fun, and the fabulous. Here is to lowered expectations, and a lifetime of memories. I wouldn't trade the messy, crabby, terrible, and frustrating moments because if I did, we wouldn't have what is real.

The joy is in the journey

I've posted recently about the spiritual journey I have been on for the past many months. Or maybe I just imagined that I posted about it. Anyway, I have been on a journey, one that has expanded my mind beyond what I knew was possible before. I was meant to find Oprah's Super Soul Sunday shows, and I know I was meant to drink them in and learn all I could from the inspirational guests. Watching those shows has led me to follow interesting thinkers that would never have been in my world before. Some of those guests are deeply religious, and since I am not deeply religious their deep faith has started to make me question my own lack of religion. I saw Rob Bell and his wife Kristen Bell on Super Soul Sunday last weekend, and I thought their message was refreshing. Now I see that he has angered the established Christian community by saying that the church will eventually accept Gay Marriage. I went down a rabbit hole of articles about him, and I guess this is not new hatred for him. It makes me sad though, and somewhat reaffirms my stance on religion in my life.

I have never been religious. I grew up sporadically going to church - a very liberal United Church of Christ community, where honestly I still felt out of place. I went through the confirmation process through the church, and then decided I didn't want to go again, so I didn't. I haven't attended church regularly since I was confirmed. I'm not sure what that says, but it is what it is. Through my childhood I also went to Awana's meetings with some neighbor friends. Awana's and the summer camps we went away to, were probably my only real life encounters with evangelical like communities. I was asked to invite Jesus into my heart, and I did, but only because everyone else seemed to think it was super important and they really wanted me to do it. Looking back at those experiences - and there were others with different youth groups that came into my life through my teen years, it makes me cringe. That was not a path to god for me. It certainly may be the path to god for some people, but it wasn't for me. I have no qualms with people using religion to get closer to god, but I've made peace with the fact that religion is not my avenue to get there.

My journey has led me to a place where I can see god in everything and in everyone. I don't need to go to a church every week, and read scripture to tell me that there is a god. I know in my heart that god doesn't need me to be able to recite scripture, or to live by a certain set of firm rules to love me either. I feel closest to god when I'm in nature, when I look at my kids, and when I feel the love I have for others and that they have for me. Some people might say that I will go to hell because I don't fully abide by a certain religion's rules, but I don't buy that for a minute. It is okay for them to think it though, I don't need to change anyone's mind. I know that the god who created me, and everyone else in the world did not do so out of spite or with a large test looming that I need to pass. I'm enough just as I am, and while I do think there were struggles placed in front of me so that I would finally see what god is - or a glimpse of what god is anyway, there was no test in any of my experiences either. We are all given trials in this life, and we either learn from them or we hide from them. When we learn from the trials, our minds expand, and we do gain a greater clarity of what it means to be human though.

A bad picture of a wall hanging I have

It is great that for many people their paths to god come through religion and scripture, I think that is the whole point. Not all of us will follow that conventional path though. There was never any god in church for me, I only found static words on a page that had very little meaning for me personally. I can look back at my experiences in church with a different view now though. I think that at least in the Christian church where I have some exposure there are lots of great messages in the scriptures. I believe that Jesus was a very enlightened thinker, and he understood that god was in everything. Regardless of whether or not I believe he was the messiah, I do believe he gave the world a gift which was shifting from a view of a vengeful god that we see in the Old Testament to the loving and forgiving god we see in the New Testament. Ultimately scripture cannot give us the only way to find god, but I understand why people want to use it that way. Faith can be scary at times, because really what if we are wrong about all of it? I feel as though many people today want to interpret scriptures literally because they are afraid of what it means for them if they were meant to be fluid. I won't pretend to be a religious scholar, and my goal is not to offend anyone here. It is okay if you read this and you think I'm going to hell, I promise I won't hold it against you.

We are all on a journey in one form or another, and finding god for me has been incredibly joyful. I have no intention of telling others that god can't be found in a church, because I don't think that's true. I just know that church was not the way for me to find god, and maybe it never will be. I don't know what all of the hateful venom about Rob Bell is all about, but I do think that whatever is spewed says a lot more about the person spewing than it does about Rob Bell himself. I am not a follower of his, but from the brief glimpse I've had it appears as though he was a rising Christian star, and then walked away from it and found his own path. Maybe his early followers feel betrayed that he left the comfortable path they know. I do know that I never would have heard of Rob Bell if not for Oprah, and if his message was strictly from quoting scripture I wouldn't be all that interested in what he has to say. He may have deviated from the traditional Christian leadership path, but continuing to recite the same lines from religious texts was never going to get me to suddenly start going to church. I suspect is it the same for many others. Seeing the message that underlies all of the scripture is the ultimate goal isn't it?

3 Good Things

You might have noticed that I've been in a deep thinking mode lately. One of my friends told me that my blog posts were very heavy. While I don't think she meant that in a bad way, it made me think that even in the midst of deep, heavy thinking there is always space for the light and easy.

Every night when our family sits down to dinner we all say 3 good things from our days. I can't remember when we started this ritual, but it has been with us for several years. There are days when the kids are feeling rushed and crabby when they don't want to participate. However, even if it takes reminders about things we knew were good (maybe the school lunch was spaghetti or french toast sticks, or maybe the school lunch was horrible and they brought a lunch from home) we can get them to come up with their respective 3 good things.

When we started this ritual there was the thought of saying the bad things from our days too, but we decided to leave those out. I think we all find space to complain about things pretty naturally and easily, but finding things to be thankful for can take more effort. Saying the things we are thankful for provides us with far greater benefits than complaining ever can. I won't pretend that dinner in our house is always sunshine and roses, or that saying our 3 good things has the power to reverse a bad mood. I do think it matters though, and I'm glad we do it. I hope when my kids are grown and they find themselves having dinner with each other that one of them will say: "so what were your 3 good things today?" I imagine they will both smile and laugh and say their 3 good things, or maybe just quietly remember how annoying their Mom was when she forced them to be thankful every night.

Choosing

It has been too long since I've posted here, which clearly goes without saying. I recently decided that I missed having blogging as an outlet. I had to get an SMS to my phone to reset my password to post here - which is somewhat weird considering that meant that I didn't know the password for my primary personal email address that I use every single day (mostly to collect tons of spam and marketing emails - what would I do without a daily email from DSW, White House Black Market, and Zulily?). I think it is somewhat fitting that 2.5 years ago I wrote my last post, and it is all still so true. I think then I was in the fake it until you make it stage of giving myself that message. I think I am closer to living it now - or maybe I will continue to fake it a bit more each day until I can't tell the difference between faking it and living it anymore.

I've been in a new job for just over a year now, and the first year was filled with anguish for a variety of reasons. I had to learn a new (complicated) company culture, and find a way to navigate within it while working remotely from home. When the opportunity for this job first came to me from a certain persistent former manager, I didn't think I was up to the task. I honestly didn't see in myself what he saw in me, and I felt as though I would be found to be a fraud. At some points during the last year I was convinced that I would only stay for a year, that working remotely from home was just too isolating and that I would go find a safer, easier job somewhere local. However at a dinner with a colleague in England, after a few days of both of us complaining about all of the things that were terrible at our workplace, something shifted in me. I can't remember which of us said it, but we came to a mutual understanding that we were not going to complain anymore. We acknowledged that we were sitting there together brainstorming just how awesome our products could be, and we had to double down to put all of our efforts into making them so. We've held each other to it too, it can be cathartic to complain at times, and we do still vent, but we stop each other before we go down that negative path. That dinner changed me.

Just this week I sat in a long painful meeting discussing progress on a project that I have known in my gut was the wrong project for us to invest in from the start. I listened, I answered questions, and I took away some action items. At the end of the meeting instead of fulfilling my action items I just looked at the notebook page I had written them on. I crossed them out, and wrote "cancel the project" underneath them. I asked myself why I was letting myself work on something I knew to be the wrong way forward. I had excuses of course, I had attempted to convince my manager that this was the wrong project from the start and had failed at doing so. I hadn't tried hard enough though. That feeling in the pit of your stomach that tells you that you are on the wrong path should not be ignored - even if you've been told to ignore that feeling on multiple occasions. I ended the work week yesterday by convincing others that we needed to stop the project. There will be fallout from that decision of course, so there is more to do, but I stood up for what I knew was right and that feels amazing.

I watched Brené Brown's TED Talk about vulnerability and shame and courage at some point last year, which led me to her second TED Talk, and then to read two of her books (The Gifts of Imperfection, and Daring Greatly). It also led me to start watching Super Soul Sunday on OWN. I'd been on a spiritual journey already when these messages came into my life which is why I know I was ready to hear them - but I thank my version of god every day now that they did. I feel awake in a way I never had been before. I put a post-it with one of Brené Brown's quotes on the wall (and then the desk because it isn't sticky enough and kept falling down) in my office so I can see it when I'm working. It says: "You can choose courage or you can choose comfort you cannot have both." When I'm working and tempted to take the comfortable path, the quote kicks me a bit and challenges me to be courageous, to be vulnerable, to shake my perfectionist tendencies that stop me from getting my work out there. My counselor, whom I've seen for various reasons for some long stretches at a couple of different points in my life uses the word comfort a lot too. She says something along the lines of just because it is comfortable doesn't mean you like it, or that it feels good, just that it is what you know. So here is to 2015 where I choose to be courageous more than I did in 2014. Here is to a thousand little decisions every day in which I choose to be brave and find the strong way forward, instead of the well worn path of what I know.

An Early Christmas Present

The Boy and The Girl will not stop singing this silly song from a cell phone commercial. It is driving me bonkers, but tonight I decided to record them doing it so I could share it with family and friends.

Ambivalence

I am inching closer to the magic age of 35 with every passing day. I remember telling T at one point that we would certainly be absolutely and completely done having kids by the time I turned 35. I didn't want to be pregnant at an "advanced maternal age." I was 29 when The Boy was born, and 31 when The Girl was born. At 33 there was no way I was ready for another child, and even at 34 it still seems crazy at times. However, as The Girl gets older I find myself wondering if we are done, or if we are just taking a longer break between kids. T and I have had this conversation countless times over the course of the past few years. I know he feels very happy with our family the way it is, he fears the hormonal mess I was during the first few months after The Girl was born - and rightfully so...at least until the Vitamin Z kicked in. He also worries about our kids not being close enough in age, he worries about the third and final child being left out of things since The Boy and The Girl are thick as thieves. He has also started telling me that he is too old to start over again. *sigh* He always ends the conversation saying that he will support whatever decision I make, that if I want to have another child he is willing to try, but that he is also very happy to be done and will make the appointment for the vasectomy as soon as I give him the word.

Why is this so hard? So many of my friends tell me that they just knew they were done with whatever number of kids they have, why don't I just know? Why can't I just feel done? Frankly even more frustrating for me is the fact that I am so ambivalent about it. One day I am 100% convinced that we will have another, and then the next as I'm struggling to buckle The Girl into her carseat in the freezing MN temps I swear that I can't wait until both kids can buckle themselves into their seats and that I'm crazy to start again with another baby. Or, I take both kids to a store and listen to them fight, and I *know* that we are done with two kids. Instead of making a real decision I vacillate between the two extremes almost daily. I'm tired of it. I want to come to a decision and make peace with it.

How did you know you were done?

A Stitch in Time

Sunday began like any other Sunday would. The kids watched some television, I lingered in front of the computer with my coffee, and T slept in. The laundry got done, my run got accomplished, the bathrooms got cleaned, and we even managed to make it to the park to enjoy our spring-like temps. The kids got to try flying kites for the first time ever, and aside from the fact that The Boy’s kite wouldn’t get airborne we had a good time.

The afternoon and evening were less enjoyable. The Girl wouldn’t nap, which made me cranky, and The Boy was busy pouting about everything. We did manage a fairly good dinner though, which I quickly followed with a trip to the grocery store to get milk. The rest of the evening was not so fun. The Boy pushed The Girl, which caused her to trip over a shoe and land with her face on the corner of a bench. ER visit number one resulted in stitches for The Girl. Her first ever stitches, and my first ever viewing of stitching of skin took place.

We got home, and I put the kids to bed. After finishing the bedtime ritual I found that the dinner dishes were still sitting on the table. I began cleaning things in a huff, T pitched in, and we were nearly finished when I managed to slice my right index finger with the steak knife I was washing. ER visit number two resulted in 5 stitches on my finger, a tetanus shot in my left arm, and not getting home until 12:30 AM on my birthday. Thankfully T’s parents came to stay with the kids for ER visit number two, because the 3 hour wait would not have been enjoyable with two cranky children in tow.

I can think of better ways to start off a birthday, but at least it is over. I will spare you the picture of my finger.

A quick check in

I have bloggers block. I have nothing interesting to write about so I continue my long streak of not blogging at all. Even worse is that I've completely stopped reading other blogs. It is shocking, but I won't even open my Google Reader because I am overwhelmed by the number of unread posts that will appear. I plan to post more regularly again, but I think it will take me a few tries to get back up on the horse.

Finding the joy again

This is the first year in many when I haven’t felt completely overwhelmed by the idea of Christmas looming in the distance. There have always been elaborate check lists of things that need to be done, gifts that need to be purchased, events that need to be attended, etc. While we still have all of that, for some odd reason this year I am not stressed out about it. I’m not even really done with my Christmas shopping, but yet I haven’t put much energy into what is left outstanding on my lists.

I’m not sure what I did differently this year. I have started listening to Christmas music in the car, and I have been thoroughly enjoying watching the kids react to everything that is Christmas. I’m looking forward to my Mom arriving this Friday and even more so to having her around Christmas morning to watch the kids react to the completely overblown morning of opening presents and playing with new toys. I’m no longer looking at all things Christmas as an obligation, but rather as an exciting opportunity to witness pure joy from my kids.

I am not trying to have a perfect Christmas, but rather I am trying to enjoy Christmas. I will not be spending the entire Christmas day cooking in the kitchen for the house full of company we are expecting, but there will be good food to eat. We will not have a formal sit down dinner, because that is not what we enjoy. In fact the idea of a formal sit down dinner gives me chills and raises my heart rate, but the idea of people grabbing their own food and eating buffet style makes me happy. I think life is too short to suffer through a formal meal simply because it is what you think you should do. I also think it is a shame to miss all of the joy and excitement of Christmas because you need to cook a mountain of side dishes.

It is really nice to be anticipating Christmas rather than begrudging it. I hope this gift I’ve given myself lasts for the rest of my life. It is nice to be able to say that I like Christmas and really mean it.

Snowball fight

I didn't spend too much time making the heads look right for this movie, but it is still pretty funny. Enjoy!

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The card

I decided to make Christmas cards after all. I spent the bulk of yesterday evening working on the outside photo portion, and then spent the bulk of tonight working on the inside. I think it turned out pretty well. T thinks that the inside verse is cheesy, but well he didn't make them so I'm discounting his opinion *pbbt*.

So I give you the oustide of the card (click to get a larger image):


and the inside of the card:

To card or not to card

T and I have been married for 10 years. We have sent out Christmas cards each and every one of those years. The first card was a photo card with a wedding picture of us on it. In the years after that and before we had kids I think there was one other photo card in the mix (a picture of us with our then dog). Since The Boy was born we have sent a photo card in some shape or form. I’ve made a few of the cards myself, taking a snapshot of The Boy and editing it to make it stand out in some way. The last two years I was organized enough to schedule photo shoots with a professional photographer, so we used cards from her. This year I haven’t given it much thought. I was living in bliss pretending that I wasn’t going to let the idea of Christmas cards haunt me, that we would just skip it this year. That was until I started getting Christmas cards in the mail.

Now I find myself daydreaming at work, wondering what fun idea I can come up with for homemade photo cards. I do have an ample supply of cardstock, and the 4x6 photo printer to draw from. I just need some inspiration. Sometimes I can just look through pictures of the kids and it will hit me, but not this year. I like making photo cards of the kids, but I can’t just send a random picture, I feel the need to show off my mad Photoshop skills. The card is a vehicle to show off my

incredibly cute children, and to show that I do have some creativity crammed inside of my analytical head. So much self-imposed pressure wrapped up into a Christmas card *sigh*.

I asked T whether he cares if we send Christmas cards this year, and he answered with a resounding NO. I knew all along that the cards were my thing, but he confirmed it for me. Part of me does want to skip the whole rigmarole, but another part loves getting cards from friends and family and wants to keep up the tradition. I tend to get really wrapped up in my work, the house, the kids, T, and I forget to take the time to tend to my old friendships. Sometimes the card at Christmas is the only contact we have with some of our friends, and I guess I like holding onto the past. Even though life has changed and we’ve grown apart from some friends, I still do wish them well, and want to remember them around the holidays. I guess I’ve just answered for myself; to card it is…now to find some inspiration quickly.

Extended Calves

I've never liked that term. I am the proud owner of big old muscular calves. Even if managed to shrink from my current size 6 frame I would still be the proud owner of big old muscular calves. It is a blessing and a curse. For the most part I don't mind my calves, they are what they are, and I don't put much thought into wishing they were smaller. The one exception is when I see someone wearing big tall boots. I get a little twinge of envy. I start remembering the shopping trip with my two girlfriends to find me a pair of tall boots.

I didn't buy any boots that day. I must have tried on at least 10 pairs of boots, but none of them fit over my monstrous calves. I was deflated. I wanted my slut boots, but the gods were telling me to go back home and forget about it.

Oh sure I could have just ordered a nice pair of Extended Calf boots, because at that point I couldn't find any such animal in the stores. I didn't want to buy boots by mail order, I wanted to try them on first. It was a huge buzz kill. I wanted those boots, was convinced I needed them, but was left with a horrible taste in my mouth when I couldn't find any that fit.

Now it is at least 6 or maybe 7 years later and I still don't have any slut boots. I still want some. I think I've gotten over the extended calf name now, and can live with the fact that I can't fit into normal boots. What I really want to know is do the rest of you really have calves that are so tiny??? I mean my calves aren't that big. Do you have trouble standing for long periods of time? I mean obviously I must need that chunk of muscle for something, so what is my genetic advantage doing for me? It must be an advantage right?

Angel on the treadmill

It is winter here in the frozen north. We've gotten enough snow this week that I have traded in my morning outdoor runs for morning treadmill runs. Truth be told I've been intermingling treadmill runs in my routine for about a month, because sometimes it is just too cold to run outside...and dark. I used to just settle for watching the local news while on the treadmill, it is okay but they repeat themselves every 15 minutes or so which gets old.

A while back I was flipping through channels and settled on Angel on TNT. I had one brief stint in time of watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, so I wasn't unfamiliar with Angel. I decided it was worth a shot, and now I am hooked. I now spend less time slurping my pre-run coffee and checking email because I want to get down to the treadmill so I can see more of Angel. It seems to be on at 5 AM and 6 AM each and every weekday morning. I typically catch the end of the 5 AM show, and the beginning of the 6 AM show. This is okay, but it leaves me with big blanks in the happenings of the show. Thankfully they do a good job of recapping previous shows at the beginning of episodes, but I still have to piece together many details. I also have to endure really long commercial breaks, which isn't ideal.

So what is a girl to do? I could buy Angel seasons on DVD, but I don't think I would want to watch them multiple times. I think the better solution is to get a netflix subscription so I can rent Angel seasons, and then other shows when I'm done with Angel...I should start with Buffy I suppose....Charmed looks interesting to fill this treadmill viewing need too. The other option would be to get a second DVR so I can watch recorded shows in the basement, so many choices to make and so much of my cheapness to set in and stop all of them...I predict more parts of shows with plenty of commercials in my future.

Excuses, Who needs excuses?

I have been absent from this blog. I blame work. I blame the kids. I blame everything else in my life, oh and I blame myself. I have no good excuses, just the fact that work has stepped up to an entirely new level of busy in the past few months. I have very little downtime at work. I've had to stop (mostly) surfing my message board addictions, and forget about posting on them. After the kids are asleep for the night I find that I have no witty banter left in me, and I never feel much like just writing something for the sake of filling up space (no offence to all of you NoBloPo folks but frankly your posts every single frick'n day of November were not always up to your usual standards...not that I had time to read all of them). I decided that while everyone else was posting every day of November I would post very few days of November, you know to balance things out. Okay I didn't really think that through, but in hindsight it sounds probable.

I will try to post more this month, but I've also decided to try to make my default (meaning that I can do that distance on autopilot) 4 mile runs turn into default 5 mile runs this winter and if I have to pick one goal I think the running one will win.

Searching for inspiration

I’ve ready many blog posts in this spirit, and since I am struggling for inspiration lately I thought I would create one of my own. I was reading through the keywords that brought people to my blog, and wanted to share a few with you.

Babysitter calculator – Also babysitting rate calculator, babysitting calculator, how much to pay a babysitter, babysitter pay calculator, baby sitter rate calculator, babysitter rate calculator, how much to pay a babysitter per hour…I could go on for a few more paragraphs though my absolute favorite is: what to pay a one time babysitter – is that like a one night stand, it sounds kind of dirty.

Johnny and the sprites songs – see also Johnny and the sprites theme song or “Johnny and the sprites” theme song, and perhaps goofy sprites, Johnny and the sprites minnie show, Johnny and the sprites pictures, and my favorite: Johnny and the sprites horrible. I think the bounce rate was pretty high for most of those searches. Sorry, I guess my Johnny and the Sprites hatred isn’t shared by everyone.

“b cup” padded – hmmm I only wish I could still claim to be that size.

“leave the door open” pee – um okay, see also: blog modesty pee – 100% bounce rate…I guess I wasn’t exactly what that searcher had in mind…though I have no idea what you’d be looking for with that search. There was also: peeing with the door open – you too?

Are hot tubs trashy? – Well not necessarily but I suppose if you filled one with cigarette butts as my kids like to do they can be.

Drain hot tub when going on vacation – but then how will you attract a good housesitter?

How hot can hottub water be for a 10 month old baby? – I say just leave the baby out of the hot tub; he will probably just pee in it anyway.

Biting siblings 4 years old – there is no better activity

How to cook beef jerky fast – I think you just go to the store and buy it, aside from that I say just don’t bother

Slim-fast running – If you can keep down a can of slim-fast while running I admire you, I’m pretty sure it would make me vomit.

The best treadmilling shoes – just in case you don’t know, ‘treadmilling’ is not a real word.

www .you tub .com – Is this a spin-off from YouTube? I don’t want to think about the target audience of YouTub.

Okay there are many more, but I’ve grown bored with this activity.

Compilations

I wrote this post several months ago, but never published it, then came back to it again a few months later and still didn't publish it. I decided that today is a fitting day to finally take these thoughts out of my computer and share them with you.


As I was driving to work one morning a few weeks ago I was flipping between radio stations searching for decent music. I stumbled upon a station playing a compilation song. Perhaps this is a local phenomenon, but I’d guess not. I couldn’t tell you the song it was put to because I didn’t listen for very long. It was some sort of tribute to the US troops fighting the war in Iraq or other various places. It was a touching song, with snippets from people who called in to offer their support and well wishes. I felt like vomiting. I changed the station settling on a Jewel song which wasn’t much of an improvement. Now don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against offering words of support to our troops, but I don’t want to hear a tacky radio compilation of poor voice quality recordings intermingled with music. It reminded me of my drive back from Denver after September 11th, 2001. I’d been flying to San Francisco the morning of September 11th, and when they grounded all air traffic we were forced to divert to Denver. I won’t go into details, but I ended up managing to borrow a car from my company’s Denver sales office to get me back home. I didn’t want to wait out the air traffic nightmare to get me home.

Along my long drive home I flipped endlessly between radio stations, and it seemed that compilation songs were everywhere. I finally stopped at a Target en route to buy some CDs so I had other options. I don’t think I was ever bothered by compilation songs before that drive home, but now whenever I hear one I go right back to that trip. I’m not sure why it stirs up such a negative response from me; the trip back wasn’t all that horrible. I did have an intense longing to get back home as quickly as possible. I think every single person who had my cell phone number (and even some who didn’t have it before that day) called me on September 11th to make sure I was safe. They all knew I was a frequent flier and wanted to make sure that by some crazy coincidence I wasn’t on one of the ill-fated flights. I felt tremendously loved; family, friends, coworkers, and acquaintances called to check on me. I think many people felt an urge to just hunker down with their families after such a tragedy, and that was certainly the case for me. I needed to get back home as quickly as possible, driving all the way from Denver to Lincoln, Nebraska in one evening, and continuing home the next morning.

I wasn’t one to want to sit and watch the news coverage of the tragedy for hours upon hours though. Mostly I wanted to be home, to feel grounded, and return to some sort of normalcy. Listening to the compilation songs was only making me think more about the tragic events, and was bringing me down. Some people need to deal with catastrophes by learning all that they can about why it happened. I need to move on quickly so I don’t bog myself down with depressing details. That may sound callous, but that is how I function. I guess I am the same way with the war in Iraq. I catch my updates on The Daily Show, but aside from that I mostly tune it out. I know I am guilty of a “not my problem” mentality. There is a group of people who periodically hold up “bring the troops home” signs along my drive home from work. They stand on the sides of a busy intersection with “honk for peace” signs as well. I never honk. I try to avert my eyes. It isn’t that I don’t want peace, or that I don’t want the troops to come home, because I do. I just don’t want to think about it any more than I have to.

Before the 2004 presidential election I got all fired up wanting to get rid of Bush, but it didn’t happen. Our country is now in far worse shape then it was even in 2004. I tell myself that if thinking about it didn’t help, not thinking about it isn’t going make it worse and at least I am spared the mental anguish along the way. I’ll keep flipping away from compilation songs because listening to them isn’t the answer. Somehow we managed to get in this position as a country, and I can’t help but feel that it is because so many other people just don’t want to think about it either. The songs might provide some comfort to the families who have members serving in the armed forces, but they aren’t changing the status quo. Spreading democracy through warfare makes about as much sense as chopping off an arm to cure a hangnail, but there we are. Perhaps one day we will wake up and realize that it isn’t the responsibility of the United States to save the rest of the countries of the world from themselves. 4000 years of fighting isn’t going to end because we say “don’t you want to be like us?” I would say that generally people don’t like it when you occupy their country and tell them you know what is best for them. I can also attest to the fact that I don’t enjoy being encouraged to live in fear of what might happen. The more we fear, the more likely we are to have something to be afraid of.

I’m not sure why I felt compelled to write this post, it has been sitting in my drafts for quite a while unpublished. I think my desire to post it is fueled by the fact that I want to wake up from my slumber, but I’m still rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I listened to part of the interim report on the progress in Iraq yesterday. I was most struck by the tone our president used before opening up to questions from reporters. Most of all it seems our president wants us to be afraid, afraid of terrorists, afraid for the future of Iraq, afraid of Iran, afraid, afraid, and afraid. His presidency has been one built almost entirely on fear. This presidency is a sharp contrast from other presidencies in dark times for our country. I think FDR was quite wise when he gave his inaugural address:

I am certain that my fellow Americans expect that on my induction into the
Presidency I will address them with a candor and a decision which the present
situation of our people impel. This is preeminently the time to speak the truth,
the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Nor need we shrink from honestly facing
conditions in our country today. This great Nation will endure as it has
endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm
belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning,
unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into
advance. In every dark hour of our national life a leadership of frankness and
vigor has met with that understanding and support of the people themselves which
is essential to victory.

While our president certainly does a good job of pointing out who were are supposed to fear, he is lacking the frankness and honesty required to overcome the fear. It seems as though we are supposed to behave as obedient children, doing as we are told, not questioning the great patriarch who knows better than we do. The only way this strategy can be effective is if we as a country are all too afraid to speak out against it. I’m not going to live in fear anymore. It isn’t healthy. It isn’t in our country’s best interest to remain fearful long-term, this does nothing but fuel hate, resentment, and greed.

Too busy to blog

I've been slammed at work for the past few weeks, so that is my lame excuse for being neglectful here. I had to travel for work last week (all of last week, got back yesterday afternoon after leaving the previous Monday), and didn't have regular internet access during that time. Now I'm faced with another looming work deadline, so I need to make myself scarce again. I'll try to pop in when I can, but I don't expect to post anything of substance until next week...and I have another deadline next week.

Hello treadmill my old friend

Forgive this post, but as I was running on the treadmill this fine morning I started composing a sad and lame little version of the awesome Simon and Garfunkel tune The Sound of Silence. The background is that I was running on my incredibly loud treadmill early in the morning, and my children woke up in the middle of my run. If you can finish it with treadmill running appropriate lyrics for the last two verses of the song I will bow down to you. I started watching the local news after I got these three verses down:

Hello treadmill, my old friend,
I’ve come to run on you again,
Because my husband who is trav-ling,
Left our kids while they were sleeping,
And the addiction that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of loudness.

In restless dreams I ran alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
neath the halo of a closet light,
I turned my shoes to the hard and fake
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of
A red L-E-D
That split the dawn
And touched the sound of loudness.

And in the dim light I saw
Two other people, maybe more.
Children waking without screaming,
Children whining without listening,
Children disturbing runs that mommies couldn’t share
And they both dared
Disturb the sound of loudness.