Ladies who attend a gym, especially those of you who shower at the gym, I offer these rules of conduct:
1. Do not wear perfume to the gym. When you sweat it starts coming out of your pores and the odor is really strong. And it's not a good odor. I don't care what fragrance you wear ... sweat and perfume is an unpleasant mix. Plus, I may not like the scent you're wearing so I don't need you to make it stronger.
2. Wipe the equipment when you're done. Even if you are not a sweaty Betty, you sweat when you exercise. Even if you don't drip, your sweat gets on the equipment ... on handles, on seats, on padding. I don't even like to touch my own sweat, I certainly don't want to touch yours.
3. Do not talk on the phone while you are exercising. When you exercise and start breathing a little harder, you talk louder. I can hear everything you say. And I don't want to.
4. When you shower, don't leave your hair all over the place. If it comes out while you wash your hair, leave it on the drain so the custodian can remove it when the showers get cleaned. Do not leave it stuck to the wall. Or the faucet. Or the soap dispenser. Just sayin.
5. If your hair falls out when you brush/comb/style it, throw it in the trash. Do not leave it on the hand dryer. Or the counter. Or the floor. Seriously.
6. Do not bring your young children into the locker room. I love kids, but not yours. I don't like to be naked in front of my own kids so I definitely don't want to be naked in front of yours. Besides, it's not safe for anyone when your two year old is climbing into the lockers and closing the door behind her. Drop your children in the designated kids area. That's what it's for.
7. Look around. You'll notice trash cans. You know, for you to throw your trash in. Don't leave it on the floor. Or on the benches. And guess what? They have them in the kids' area, the gym, AND the locker room. Imagine that.
8. Don't cut the line for zumba or any other popular exercise class. People come early to ensure they get a spot. They've taken time out of their day, and organized their schedule, because that class is important to them. When you come in at the last minute, say "excuse me" and act like you're joining a friend but you're really just cutting the line, we want to hit you. Hard.
9. Rack your weights. You were strong enough to pick them up, you're strong enough to put them back. If they feel too heavy when it's time to put them away, you're using the wrong weight. Try something lighter.
10. When the gym is crowded and people are waiting, follow the gym's time limits. Truly, I don't care if you spend 90 minutes at the gym every day, just don't do it on the same piece of equipment the entire time.
It's called common courtesy, people. Use it.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Where Do I Fit In?
Over the past couple of years I have been doing a lot of work on myself. I'm working on being "conscious" in my every day life: conscious of what I eat, conscious of how I act, conscious of what I say, etc. Don't get me wrong, I am far from perfect. But I can honestly say I am much improved. A huge part of me wishes I had done this work a decade or so earlier, but this is my path and I'm happily traveling it.
One of the things I've been paying attention to is my interactions with other people, especially women. I don't have a lot of friends. I have plenty of acquaintances, but I don't have that core group of women that I can count on. For example, I find myself "all dressed up with no place to go" all the time. How did I reach my middle 40s without a core group of friends? I hear other women talking about "girls night out" and I don't really have that as an option in my life. Interestingly, I never really have. I've never really felt like I fit in anywhere.
Many women have had their core group of friends since high school or college. I have one friend from junior high that I've stayed in contact with over all of these years - off and on, up and down, frequent and infrequent - but I think we're still friends simply because we've known each other so long. Growing up my cousin was my best friend, and we remained really close friends well into our twenties, and then life took us separate ways. She got married and moved away, which made our previous constant contact very difficult. Then she had a baby and I went to law school ... the rest is history. We still keep in contact, we visit occasionally, but we have totally different lives now. I have one friend from college that I talk to regularly, but she lives 6 hours away so we don't see each other very often. I have one friend from law school that I stayed in touch with, who lives within visiting range, but even that relationship has basically disappeared over the past few years.
I have no way of knowing why I didn't develop lasting friendships when I was younger, and frankly it's a waste of time and energy to look back and ponder it. Instead, I've been trying to figure out why I haven't bonded with any of the fabulous women I've met over the past five or ten years. I don't know the answers, at least not yet, but I have had a realization. Right now, at this point in my life, I am in a "no man's land." Single mothers don't really fit in anywhere. I don't have much in common with my "single" friends because my world revolves around my children and their lives, while my single friends' lives revolve around career, relationships, travel, etc. I don't have much in common with my married friends, in part because I did not have a good marriage so I don't have anything positive to contribute, but mostly because their lives revolve around their intact families. I certainly have more in common with single mothers than with anyone else right now, but even within that group there is distance. As an example, unless our parenting schedules are similar - which is rare - one of us always hads kids in tow. My closest single-mother friend is very close to her family and spends a ton of time with them, we are on opposite weekends with our kids, and she is currently (actively) dating. I ask you, when does she have time for a cocktail? And then there's the issue of common interests: once you get us away from our children, we're left to our own devices ... what if we have nothing in common?
Don't get me wrong; it's not like I'm this lonely little sad sack. I'm not. But it occurs to me that I don't have a core group of good friends that have my back. As examples, I locked myself out of my house at 2:00 a.m and I had no one to call; the only person who has a spare key is my 70-year-old mother and I'm not going to call her in the middle of the night. I got in a hit-and-run accident in a bad part of town at midnight and I had no one to call. I woke up at 4:00 a.m. in excruciating pain, thinking I needed to call 911, and I had no one to call. Those moments in life happen to every one, and they are the moments when you realize who's got your back.
What to do, what to do? I'm not sure yet. It's clear I need to develop a support system, I just don't know what it's going to look like. I joined a running group a couple of years ago with the hopes of meeting new friends, but what I actually got was more acquaintances. That's not a bad thing but it's not what I'm looking for right now. I've been invited to join a bunco group; maybe my support system will start there, but maybe not. As I've been learning over the last year or so, when things don't work out as we hope, we should consider it nothing more than feedback: What we did and/or how we did it did not give the result we wanted. Adjust, do something different, and wait for feedback. All I can do is keep trying different things until I find my fit.
One of the things I've been paying attention to is my interactions with other people, especially women. I don't have a lot of friends. I have plenty of acquaintances, but I don't have that core group of women that I can count on. For example, I find myself "all dressed up with no place to go" all the time. How did I reach my middle 40s without a core group of friends? I hear other women talking about "girls night out" and I don't really have that as an option in my life. Interestingly, I never really have. I've never really felt like I fit in anywhere.
Many women have had their core group of friends since high school or college. I have one friend from junior high that I've stayed in contact with over all of these years - off and on, up and down, frequent and infrequent - but I think we're still friends simply because we've known each other so long. Growing up my cousin was my best friend, and we remained really close friends well into our twenties, and then life took us separate ways. She got married and moved away, which made our previous constant contact very difficult. Then she had a baby and I went to law school ... the rest is history. We still keep in contact, we visit occasionally, but we have totally different lives now. I have one friend from college that I talk to regularly, but she lives 6 hours away so we don't see each other very often. I have one friend from law school that I stayed in touch with, who lives within visiting range, but even that relationship has basically disappeared over the past few years.
I have no way of knowing why I didn't develop lasting friendships when I was younger, and frankly it's a waste of time and energy to look back and ponder it. Instead, I've been trying to figure out why I haven't bonded with any of the fabulous women I've met over the past five or ten years. I don't know the answers, at least not yet, but I have had a realization. Right now, at this point in my life, I am in a "no man's land." Single mothers don't really fit in anywhere. I don't have much in common with my "single" friends because my world revolves around my children and their lives, while my single friends' lives revolve around career, relationships, travel, etc. I don't have much in common with my married friends, in part because I did not have a good marriage so I don't have anything positive to contribute, but mostly because their lives revolve around their intact families. I certainly have more in common with single mothers than with anyone else right now, but even within that group there is distance. As an example, unless our parenting schedules are similar - which is rare - one of us always hads kids in tow. My closest single-mother friend is very close to her family and spends a ton of time with them, we are on opposite weekends with our kids, and she is currently (actively) dating. I ask you, when does she have time for a cocktail? And then there's the issue of common interests: once you get us away from our children, we're left to our own devices ... what if we have nothing in common?
Don't get me wrong; it's not like I'm this lonely little sad sack. I'm not. But it occurs to me that I don't have a core group of good friends that have my back. As examples, I locked myself out of my house at 2:00 a.m and I had no one to call; the only person who has a spare key is my 70-year-old mother and I'm not going to call her in the middle of the night. I got in a hit-and-run accident in a bad part of town at midnight and I had no one to call. I woke up at 4:00 a.m. in excruciating pain, thinking I needed to call 911, and I had no one to call. Those moments in life happen to every one, and they are the moments when you realize who's got your back.
What to do, what to do? I'm not sure yet. It's clear I need to develop a support system, I just don't know what it's going to look like. I joined a running group a couple of years ago with the hopes of meeting new friends, but what I actually got was more acquaintances. That's not a bad thing but it's not what I'm looking for right now. I've been invited to join a bunco group; maybe my support system will start there, but maybe not. As I've been learning over the last year or so, when things don't work out as we hope, we should consider it nothing more than feedback: What we did and/or how we did it did not give the result we wanted. Adjust, do something different, and wait for feedback. All I can do is keep trying different things until I find my fit.
Friday, January 14, 2011
A Day of Service?
Martin Luther King, Jr. day is now a national Day of Service. People and their families are encouraged to find a way to spend the day volunteering in service of others. I'm all for it; no matter the cause, everyone can use a little help now and then, and the ability to help others is a fairly unique trait we as humans have. I also want to instill in my children the idea that they should take some time out of their self-indulgent lives and do something for someone else.
Last year I didn't plan ahead and I didn't start looking for a service project until the night before. I couldn't find anything that would be appropriate for the kids and me; the few service projects I located in my community were heavy labor (painting, etc.) and/or had age requirements far higher than the ages of my boys. I just assumed all of the "appropriate" projects had been filled by those uber-organized families. So this year I planned ahead and I've been researching service projects for the past few days. Guess what? I can't find a project that is appropriate for the boys and me to do as a family.
I began to wonder. What happened to those "clean the park" days? Why aren't agencies that serve food advertising for help on the Day of Service? My kids are still pretty little, but they could certainly accompany me while I clean up the banks of one of our five rivers. In fact, they would love it ... they would find every odd rock, plant and bug. What a missed opportunity! My little guys could certainly help carry plates of food, or pick up leftover meal trash at a meal-serving agency. They could probably help pack boxes at a food bank. Alas, none of these projects is available to us.
As I've mentioned previously, I started a non-profit that will provide weekend food bags for food insecure children. We aren't up and running yet (we're getting our legal paperwork done, corporate structure done, etc. and raising money), but after this experience I am committed to having a Day of Service project ready to go next year. If nothing else, we can make that the day we clean out/organize everything. Ideally, it would be a day where we unpack and organize tons of food to get ready for distribution. Either way, next year we will have our very own project for the Day of Service.
Last year I didn't plan ahead and I didn't start looking for a service project until the night before. I couldn't find anything that would be appropriate for the kids and me; the few service projects I located in my community were heavy labor (painting, etc.) and/or had age requirements far higher than the ages of my boys. I just assumed all of the "appropriate" projects had been filled by those uber-organized families. So this year I planned ahead and I've been researching service projects for the past few days. Guess what? I can't find a project that is appropriate for the boys and me to do as a family.
I began to wonder. What happened to those "clean the park" days? Why aren't agencies that serve food advertising for help on the Day of Service? My kids are still pretty little, but they could certainly accompany me while I clean up the banks of one of our five rivers. In fact, they would love it ... they would find every odd rock, plant and bug. What a missed opportunity! My little guys could certainly help carry plates of food, or pick up leftover meal trash at a meal-serving agency. They could probably help pack boxes at a food bank. Alas, none of these projects is available to us.
As I've mentioned previously, I started a non-profit that will provide weekend food bags for food insecure children. We aren't up and running yet (we're getting our legal paperwork done, corporate structure done, etc. and raising money), but after this experience I am committed to having a Day of Service project ready to go next year. If nothing else, we can make that the day we clean out/organize everything. Ideally, it would be a day where we unpack and organize tons of food to get ready for distribution. Either way, next year we will have our very own project for the Day of Service.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Is that Dr. King?
It comes as no surprise, with the observance of Martin Luther King, Jr. day fast approaching, that my children are learning about him and his legacy. Last week Stinker - my kindergardener - had a school project about dreams. As a family we were to talk about our dreams for our family, for our community and for the world. Stinker's project coincided with one of Sweetie's cub scouts projects, in which he was to make a poster about what it means to be a good citizen. I feel like I know my kids pretty well, but these kinds of projects always reveal delightful little facts about my kids.
Stinker's dream for our family is that his Gigi - my mother - wouldn't be old anymore. I know he's close to her, that he loves her, and that he knows she's old, but it never occurred to me that he might have some understanding about what it means to be old. I'm not sure if he does or not because I didn't press him for details, but the comment resonated with me. Stinker's dream for our community is that everyone has a warm place to sleep. This is pretty deep stuff for a 5 year old and I was so proud to discover such compassion. (He IS a stinker, after all.) And then he blew my mind: His dream for the world is No War. I don't talk about war very often, and as far as I know The Ex does not either, but it's apparent that whatever discussions have occurred around him have sunk in a little bit. I must confess that I have told them - Sweetie especially - that ever since they have been on this earth we have been at war with countries far away.
Sweetie has similar compassionate sensibilities. His dream for our family is that his mother will live a long and happy life. (Are you saying "AAAAwwww" yet?). Seriously. Isn't that the sweetest thing you've ever heard? (Now you see why I have dubbed him Sweetie in this blog!) His dream for our community is that everyone has enough to eat. (I've started a non-profit that will provide weekend food bags for food insecure kids at his school so we talk about hunger quite a bit in our home.) His dream for the world is peace. I'm verklempt.
For his cub scout poster, we talked a lot about what it means to be a good citizen and his compassion came out again. He said things like "be nice to the planet" "follow the Golden Rule" "Honor my country". The poster ended up including an earth in the center, and then it was surrounded by symbols of things he thinks are important: recycling, a police badge (obey all laws), an American flag, seeds (to grow his own food), trees (to save the ones we have and plant more of them), and a "True American Hero" badge because "that's what I want to be when I'm a grown up." I was very proud of the ideals he chose, in part because they align (at least a little) with the ideals that I and their father believe in, but also because these are very mature thoughts for an 8 year old boy obsessed with Legos and video games to have.
So this morning, Stinker and I were snuggling in bed before it was time for me to get up and I had the news on the television (as I do every morning). The station was showing clips from President Obama's speech yesterday at the memorial service in Tucson. When he talked about wanting to live up to Christina Green's expectations and to live in the world she imagined, he emphasized with his arm and the crowd applauded. Stinker looked at me and said, "Mom, is that Dr. King?" Wow. What a great reminder that little kids are sponges!
Stinker's dream for our family is that his Gigi - my mother - wouldn't be old anymore. I know he's close to her, that he loves her, and that he knows she's old, but it never occurred to me that he might have some understanding about what it means to be old. I'm not sure if he does or not because I didn't press him for details, but the comment resonated with me. Stinker's dream for our community is that everyone has a warm place to sleep. This is pretty deep stuff for a 5 year old and I was so proud to discover such compassion. (He IS a stinker, after all.) And then he blew my mind: His dream for the world is No War. I don't talk about war very often, and as far as I know The Ex does not either, but it's apparent that whatever discussions have occurred around him have sunk in a little bit. I must confess that I have told them - Sweetie especially - that ever since they have been on this earth we have been at war with countries far away.
Sweetie has similar compassionate sensibilities. His dream for our family is that his mother will live a long and happy life. (Are you saying "AAAAwwww" yet?). Seriously. Isn't that the sweetest thing you've ever heard? (Now you see why I have dubbed him Sweetie in this blog!) His dream for our community is that everyone has enough to eat. (I've started a non-profit that will provide weekend food bags for food insecure kids at his school so we talk about hunger quite a bit in our home.) His dream for the world is peace. I'm verklempt.
For his cub scout poster, we talked a lot about what it means to be a good citizen and his compassion came out again. He said things like "be nice to the planet" "follow the Golden Rule" "Honor my country". The poster ended up including an earth in the center, and then it was surrounded by symbols of things he thinks are important: recycling, a police badge (obey all laws), an American flag, seeds (to grow his own food), trees (to save the ones we have and plant more of them), and a "True American Hero" badge because "that's what I want to be when I'm a grown up." I was very proud of the ideals he chose, in part because they align (at least a little) with the ideals that I and their father believe in, but also because these are very mature thoughts for an 8 year old boy obsessed with Legos and video games to have.
So this morning, Stinker and I were snuggling in bed before it was time for me to get up and I had the news on the television (as I do every morning). The station was showing clips from President Obama's speech yesterday at the memorial service in Tucson. When he talked about wanting to live up to Christina Green's expectations and to live in the world she imagined, he emphasized with his arm and the crowd applauded. Stinker looked at me and said, "Mom, is that Dr. King?" Wow. What a great reminder that little kids are sponges!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Project Pound Loss: Week 1 is my friend
Last year (or maybe it was the year before?) I posted a weekly update on my unsupervised, totally solo efforts to lose weight. (I may have been trying Weight Watchers, I'm not sure. Notice I used the word "trying" as opposed to the word "doing." I'm sure you get the picture.) The posts really didn't add anything to Like Sand in an Hourglass; I just felt like it would make me more accountable if I blogged about it. I'm either an idiot or delusional. Needless to say, once I quit trying to lose weight - like I always do - I went back and read my blog posts. It was pathetic and I deleted them. Then I crawled back into my metaphorical cave of self-loathing and had a cookie. Or 4. What can be so difficult, right? Eat less, move more. Duh.
Here's the skinny (pun intended). I used to be skinny. Then I was thin. Then I was in decent shape. Then I had a few extra pounds. Then I was "a little" overweight. Then I was a fat "skinny person." Then I was a skinny "fat person." Then I just got fat. I didn't gain very much weight when pregnant because those silly little babies already had ample room to grow in there. After delivering each of my children, I lost my pregnancy weight and then an additional 40 or so pounds. Those blasted pounds kept finding me, and they brought their friends!
I'm all out of excuses. Stinker is almost 6 years old, so I can't blame it on post-baby body. I'm not unhappily married anymore, so I can't blame it on my loveless marriage. I'm not lonely, or injured, or any number of things people rely on to explain how they got fat. I'm just unconscious about my eating and too sedentary.
Each year, like millions of other people, I declare it will be the year that I lose the weight. Each year, like millions of other people, I start and then I stop. I make up stories and excuses, I get "too busy," whatever ... I make up some story to explain why I can't stick to any program. IT ALL ENDS NOW.
Have you seen Jennifer Hudson? Damn, that girl looks gooooooood. She is my muse. My body looks like hers did in Dreamgirls - a square block - except I don't have the booty for balance. She is a spokesperson for Weight Watchers so I thought I'd go check out the new Points Plus program. I know what you're thinking: So? You do this every year, and every year you quit. Why should we care that you're starting again? Why should we be supportive when our love and energy will be wasted? My answer: I'm doing a few things differently this time and I'm setting myself up to succeed.
I've joined with a friend, so I actually do have accountability. She's someone I see almost every day, so I have to look her in the eye and confess to my eating sins. I've chosen a center right down the street from where I spend most of my working hours, so it is not a big chunk of my time to stop in and weigh myself. I chose a center that literally has 18 meetings a week; no matter my schedule, it's highly probable I can find a meeting that will work. Plus, in addition to 18 meetings a week, it has 24 "open hours" where I can go weigh in even if I can't make a meeting. No more trying to convince myself to interrupt my Saturday to go to a meeting (ick!) or rushing home in traffic to get the kids, get them fed, take them to grandma's and then get to a meeting on time. Do you see what I did there? I eliminated all of my excuses for not going to meetings! As much as I don't like them, statistics show that people with the best weight loss results regularly attend meetings.
But wait, there's more. (Does that sound like an infomercial?) I'm also working the exercises in A Course of Weight Loss. It's got 21 lessons that are designed to help the reader identify the emotional reasons for overeating, address them and release them so one can lose the weight and not gain it back. If it works, this is a HUGE part of my journey because I am definitely an emotional eater. (Someone once described the phenomenon in a way that makes sense to me [as gross as it is]: Feelings are like cat poop, food is the kitty litter, and the eater is the cat. Whenever we experience unpleasant feelings, we try to bury them with food. OMG - this analogy speaks to me, dear reader.)
I'm not done. I'm also following a biggest-loser type of program that 24 Hour Fitness will be hosting. I get extra Points Plus for exercise - bonus! I get to eat more! - AND I'm 40-something and realize that no matter what I do with food, the weight will not come off if I do not exercise regularly.
And speaking of Biggest Loser, if all else fails and I can't get a grip on this weight loss issue, I'm going to the Biggest Loser ranch in Utah in the fall! So there.
So here's the status for Week 1: I lost 4.8 pounds! Woo hoo. I didn't have a perfect week - I had bunco with the girls last week plus I baked chocolate chip cookies for the boys (masochist, I know!) - but in the grand scheme I worked the program, and it worked me. I know I won't continue to lose so much each week as I progress in the program, but a nearly 5-pound loss is definitely motivation to carry on.
Oh, and I have some rewards for myself for each milestone I hit (5%, 10%, etc.) Alas, those are for another day.
Here's the skinny (pun intended). I used to be skinny. Then I was thin. Then I was in decent shape. Then I had a few extra pounds. Then I was "a little" overweight. Then I was a fat "skinny person." Then I was a skinny "fat person." Then I just got fat. I didn't gain very much weight when pregnant because those silly little babies already had ample room to grow in there. After delivering each of my children, I lost my pregnancy weight and then an additional 40 or so pounds. Those blasted pounds kept finding me, and they brought their friends!
I'm all out of excuses. Stinker is almost 6 years old, so I can't blame it on post-baby body. I'm not unhappily married anymore, so I can't blame it on my loveless marriage. I'm not lonely, or injured, or any number of things people rely on to explain how they got fat. I'm just unconscious about my eating and too sedentary.
Each year, like millions of other people, I declare it will be the year that I lose the weight. Each year, like millions of other people, I start and then I stop. I make up stories and excuses, I get "too busy," whatever ... I make up some story to explain why I can't stick to any program. IT ALL ENDS NOW.
Have you seen Jennifer Hudson? Damn, that girl looks gooooooood. She is my muse. My body looks like hers did in Dreamgirls - a square block - except I don't have the booty for balance. She is a spokesperson for Weight Watchers so I thought I'd go check out the new Points Plus program. I know what you're thinking: So? You do this every year, and every year you quit. Why should we care that you're starting again? Why should we be supportive when our love and energy will be wasted? My answer: I'm doing a few things differently this time and I'm setting myself up to succeed.
I've joined with a friend, so I actually do have accountability. She's someone I see almost every day, so I have to look her in the eye and confess to my eating sins. I've chosen a center right down the street from where I spend most of my working hours, so it is not a big chunk of my time to stop in and weigh myself. I chose a center that literally has 18 meetings a week; no matter my schedule, it's highly probable I can find a meeting that will work. Plus, in addition to 18 meetings a week, it has 24 "open hours" where I can go weigh in even if I can't make a meeting. No more trying to convince myself to interrupt my Saturday to go to a meeting (ick!) or rushing home in traffic to get the kids, get them fed, take them to grandma's and then get to a meeting on time. Do you see what I did there? I eliminated all of my excuses for not going to meetings! As much as I don't like them, statistics show that people with the best weight loss results regularly attend meetings.
But wait, there's more. (Does that sound like an infomercial?) I'm also working the exercises in A Course of Weight Loss. It's got 21 lessons that are designed to help the reader identify the emotional reasons for overeating, address them and release them so one can lose the weight and not gain it back. If it works, this is a HUGE part of my journey because I am definitely an emotional eater. (Someone once described the phenomenon in a way that makes sense to me [as gross as it is]: Feelings are like cat poop, food is the kitty litter, and the eater is the cat. Whenever we experience unpleasant feelings, we try to bury them with food. OMG - this analogy speaks to me, dear reader.)
I'm not done. I'm also following a biggest-loser type of program that 24 Hour Fitness will be hosting. I get extra Points Plus for exercise - bonus! I get to eat more! - AND I'm 40-something and realize that no matter what I do with food, the weight will not come off if I do not exercise regularly.
And speaking of Biggest Loser, if all else fails and I can't get a grip on this weight loss issue, I'm going to the Biggest Loser ranch in Utah in the fall! So there.
So here's the status for Week 1: I lost 4.8 pounds! Woo hoo. I didn't have a perfect week - I had bunco with the girls last week plus I baked chocolate chip cookies for the boys (masochist, I know!) - but in the grand scheme I worked the program, and it worked me. I know I won't continue to lose so much each week as I progress in the program, but a nearly 5-pound loss is definitely motivation to carry on.
Oh, and I have some rewards for myself for each milestone I hit (5%, 10%, etc.) Alas, those are for another day.
It's a "No Pants" Day
I was catching up on my reading of my bloggy friend Boys Mom's page, and I realized I'm not paying close enough attention to the silly things my kids do. Boy Mom is so good about sharing the little things her 8 boys (that's right, I said it - 8 boys, God help her!) do, good, bad and hysterical. If you're interested in a day in the life, you should follow her.
So after I read some of her posts, I sat pondering. What have my boys done lately? They make me laugh almost daily, so surely I must have some great examples. Let's see. Well, they were playing with my couch cushions again over the weekend - a BIG no no - and they tore one of the cushions. Oh wait, that's not silly; that's a reason NOT to have children. I know what I'll share today ...
Stinker has decided - out of nowhere as far as I can tell - they should have "no pants" days. We have pajama days, so maybe that's where he got the idea. Anyway, it's not unusual for me to walk out into the living room where they are watching TV and see them without pants. I usually tell them to put their pants back on, though I'm happy to let them put on pajama bottoms or some other lounging-friendly pants. It's winter, it's cold, put some pants on for God's sake!
Last week Stinker comes into my office area without pants. I asked him where his pants were, and he responded - in all seriousness - "Mom, it's a no pants day." When pressed for details about why it's a no pants day and what that means, he said, "Mom, boys don't like to wear pants. You make us wear pants, but we don't want to wear pants. We're just on the couch, so we're not wearing pants. It's a No Pants day." And then he scooted out of the room. I followed him out to the living room and Sweetie wasn't wearing pants, either.
I fear for their future wives.
So after I read some of her posts, I sat pondering. What have my boys done lately? They make me laugh almost daily, so surely I must have some great examples. Let's see. Well, they were playing with my couch cushions again over the weekend - a BIG no no - and they tore one of the cushions. Oh wait, that's not silly; that's a reason NOT to have children. I know what I'll share today ...
Stinker has decided - out of nowhere as far as I can tell - they should have "no pants" days. We have pajama days, so maybe that's where he got the idea. Anyway, it's not unusual for me to walk out into the living room where they are watching TV and see them without pants. I usually tell them to put their pants back on, though I'm happy to let them put on pajama bottoms or some other lounging-friendly pants. It's winter, it's cold, put some pants on for God's sake!
Last week Stinker comes into my office area without pants. I asked him where his pants were, and he responded - in all seriousness - "Mom, it's a no pants day." When pressed for details about why it's a no pants day and what that means, he said, "Mom, boys don't like to wear pants. You make us wear pants, but we don't want to wear pants. We're just on the couch, so we're not wearing pants. It's a No Pants day." And then he scooted out of the room. I followed him out to the living room and Sweetie wasn't wearing pants, either.
I fear for their future wives.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Happy New Year?
I try to end each year on a positive note. While I'm decking the halls and fa-la-la-la-ing, I try to slow down enough to take a glance back at the year. Often I reflect on the year while writing a holiday letter. Oh wait, I haven't written one of those in years. Now I have Facebook. And this blog. Who needs to write a Christmas letter? But I digress.
As I've mentioned before, The Ex and I have been apart for five years now. He moved on right away, and had a live-in girlfriend within 8 months of moving out of our family home. I was not so unrooted. I did what I had always done before; I wallowed; I felt sorry for myself; I cried; I belly-ached to anyone who would listen. Meanwhile, The Ex seemed completely unaffected. I, on the other hand, needed some time. In the past year or so, I felt like I had let go of all of that baggage and was moving forward with my life. Two years ago I joined a church. I took a couple of spiritual growth classes. I met new people. I stopped engaging The Ex in arguments and heated discussions. I focused on the good things in my life. Though I have had setbacks - old habits are hard to break after all - I felt like I really made some good progress towards peace and contentment.
As I've also mentioned before, though The Ex and I have done a pretty good job of getting along when it comes to co-parenting our children, something changed last spring. I won't re-hash the story (check out "Is it Just Me or Is An Apology In Order?"), but suffice it to say I shut down. I went from having love for this man who gave me these beautiful children even though I don't like him, to REALLY disliking him. A lot. Despite my hard work at letting things go, the feeling of dislike really stuck with me.
So, in an effort to end my year on a positive note, I went to church on New Year's Eve and participated in the Burning Bowl ceremony. I wrote down everything I felt about The Ex and the situation, and I told him off like I would if that were an appropriate thing for me to do, and then I dropped it in the burning bowl, watched it go from paper to ash, and then scooped the ashes away and into a disposal bin. I "washed my hands" of the whole thing right before midnight.
Now the fun part begins. Did I actually release all that crap? Have I moved forward? Did I let it go? Is it a happy new year? Time will tell, and then I'll tell you.
As I've mentioned before, The Ex and I have been apart for five years now. He moved on right away, and had a live-in girlfriend within 8 months of moving out of our family home. I was not so unrooted. I did what I had always done before; I wallowed; I felt sorry for myself; I cried; I belly-ached to anyone who would listen. Meanwhile, The Ex seemed completely unaffected. I, on the other hand, needed some time. In the past year or so, I felt like I had let go of all of that baggage and was moving forward with my life. Two years ago I joined a church. I took a couple of spiritual growth classes. I met new people. I stopped engaging The Ex in arguments and heated discussions. I focused on the good things in my life. Though I have had setbacks - old habits are hard to break after all - I felt like I really made some good progress towards peace and contentment.
As I've also mentioned before, though The Ex and I have done a pretty good job of getting along when it comes to co-parenting our children, something changed last spring. I won't re-hash the story (check out "Is it Just Me or Is An Apology In Order?"), but suffice it to say I shut down. I went from having love for this man who gave me these beautiful children even though I don't like him, to REALLY disliking him. A lot. Despite my hard work at letting things go, the feeling of dislike really stuck with me.
So, in an effort to end my year on a positive note, I went to church on New Year's Eve and participated in the Burning Bowl ceremony. I wrote down everything I felt about The Ex and the situation, and I told him off like I would if that were an appropriate thing for me to do, and then I dropped it in the burning bowl, watched it go from paper to ash, and then scooped the ashes away and into a disposal bin. I "washed my hands" of the whole thing right before midnight.
Now the fun part begins. Did I actually release all that crap? Have I moved forward? Did I let it go? Is it a happy new year? Time will tell, and then I'll tell you.
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