- Worked for 6 hours, then left to run errands which I aborted when I got home in the middle of a rainstorm, opting to be useful at home instead.
- Did 80% of the needed toy cleanup in G’s room, including all Mystery Piles and Under The Bed.
- Played Horse Ride with G with her castle toys, which I expanded to Moose Ride and Bear Ride because I could.
- When G asked, I set up painting for her.
- Cleaned paint off G and washed brushes with her.
- Sorted the pile of mail on the table.
- Made dinner for G. (And by “made” I mean “microwaved some chicken, corn, and tater tots. But she’s two. She was thrilled. She ate it all.)
- Made myself a sandwich.
- Washed the few dishes we’d dirtied.
- Started a load of towels and folded a small load of laundry.
- Folded a big load of G laundry, integrated it with the big load Maggie had folded, and put 75% of it away. Because i was interrupted and then I …
- Diapered and jammied a sleeping kid, because Captain I Don’t Need A Nap passed out at 7, dead to the world, on the couch.
- Put a pork roast in the crock pot so it will be pulled pork before morning, for taking to Camp.
- Started packing food for camp, and clothes for the family.
So now I should go work out, but I’m super tempted to just play CivV. I mean, that was a lot of functional adult behavior, right there… I might be done.
Or maybe I’ll do both.
Gwyneth started talking last week. I mean, she’s been talking — communicating verbally — for a year and change. But last week she started speaking English.
This morning Justin made an example of greeting the dog when he wandered out of the bedroom, and Gwyn repeated it perfectly: “Hi, Malcolm!”
And when I came out of the bedroom, dressed for work, she started saying goodbye to me. I told her I was going to get breakfast first, and she said “Mama breakfast first.” When I was done with my sandwich, she asked me if I had my shoes.
“And a hat? “(No, thank you, mama doesn’t need a hat. Does Gwyn want a hat? “No hat Hen.” Okay then. No hats for anyone.)
“Bye bye mama!” (Then she retrieved my wallet from my purse and handed it to me. “Thank you mama!”)
She’s like my own personal imp-powered organizer, a-la Pratchett and Vimes.
I do not love my body right now, but that’s because it’s a reflection of all the things that aren’t really working. I know how to lose the weight I’m carrying, and regain the strength I’ve lost — I just have to choose to do that. And choosing to do it means spending time on different things than I have been spending it on, and that’s hard, and it sucks, and it takes energy that I’m not positive I have and so I live in this body that isn’t who I really want to be because inertia.
But I don’t hate my body. My body does amazing things, and when I want to dress it to look fucking amazing, I do that. I paint my nails and do my hair and makeup because those things make me happy, bring Justin joy, and contribute to the image I’ve crafted of myself for public consumption. And I’m okay with that. I’m equally okay with dirty feet and broken nails because we’ve spent the weekend living under the sky with my toes in the grass, which makes me happy, brings Justin joy, and is a part of who I am.
So you won’t hear me talking about being fat or hating my body unless I’m in a sad, dark, place — and unless I’m way out of my happy place, you’ll never hear me say it when Gwyneth can hear me. Her body is also amazing — strong, healthy, and beautiful for the potential it holds, not the form it takes. She’s going to believe that if it’s the last thing I do on this earth.
Encourage your daughter to run because it makes her feel less stressed. Encourage your daughter to climb mountains because there is nowhere better to explore your spirituality than the peak of the universe. Encourage your daughter to surf, or rock climb, or mountain bike because it scares her and that’s a good thing sometimes.
Help your daughter love soccer or rowing or hockey because sports make her a better leader and a more confident woman. Explain that no matter how old you get, you’ll never stop needing good teamwork. Never make her play a sport she isn’t absolutely in love with.
Prove to your daughter that women don’t need men to move their furniture.
Teach your daughter how to cook kale.
Teach your daughter how to bake chocolate cake made with six sticks of butter.
Pass on your own mom’s recipe for Christmas morning coffee cake. Pass on your love of being outside.
Today in my sitcom life, I spend the day walking around parking lots in 90 degree heat because I can’t remember what my mom’s car looks like, carrying what has become a total mom-purse, while looking for the perfect diapers in every store in town and failing to find them.
Things I want to do today:
- Work on a consulting project
- Take a shower
- Enjoy my kiddo
- Make breakfast burritos for the freezer
- Listen to an audiobook
- Do 3-5 loads of laundry
- Untangle my jewelry
- Design a new leather bag
- Or two
- Spend some time with Justin
I’m confident I’ll get to the first three… All bets are off as to how far past that we go.
Last night I listened as my daughter counted to 10, independently, by picking up 10 strawberries and naming the number as she put them down. Justin and I stared at each other in joyful amazement. What an awesome thing the human brain is. Of course, shortly after that she decided to run to the kitchen naked while getting her diaper changed for bedtime, and she finished her snack of strawberries and pears in the nude… and then peed all over the toddler tower. When it became annoying to her that there was a puddle, she put her feet out at the very edges of the platform and stood around it. So we’ll get to potty training when she’s damn well good and ready, I think. Because right now she does not give a single fuck, and I have no extra energy to give to things she just does. not. care. about.
On that same theme, I had a fury breakdown at work last week. So mad I got up and left a meeting. Never done that before. But then I came back, and continued the dialogue, and we found common ground, and we agreed to a path forward, and our followup emails agree we did find common ground… it’s a good thing. I stood up and left, and walked the perimeter of my library, breathing and thinking, because I needed to let go of the emotion — release the thing I just do not care about — and find the core of strength that is my determination and confidence to accomplish the things I do care about. There’s a whole lot of negative energy flying around campus these days (the end of the semester is chaos time), and I need to release it from my head.
As part of that release, I went away from the real world this weekend — it was the May Kingdoms of Novitas event — and left my kid with her “brother” and extra parents. KoN is my home away from home. Those people are my family away from my family. That world is my world away from this one. I disconnected, I didn’t check my email, I trusted Gwyn’s happiness to Sam and Suzy, and I just played. I trusted that I can do this. That I am allowed to disconnect. That it’s okay if I don’t work — on housework, at my office, solving all the problems that were ever problems — every day, all day. And I played. LARPing is creative play for adults — and we always say children need play. I say adults need to play, too. And playing doesn’t have to involve drinking or sports with teams and rules… sometimes it can involve improv acting, storytelling, hiking, and hitting other adults with sticks. With rules. And teams. Some of them sort of mafia-like. But I digress.
I played. I hiked 5 miles. I told stories. I practiced my improv skills. I problem solved in a scenario where all problems had resolutions. I ate a lot of grilled cheese sandwiches and hot dogs. I sat in the sun and laughed. I spent 36 hours with one of my families. I did not check my email. I did not think about whether my daughter talks enough, or when she’ll pee on the potty.
Today in a staff meeting the saying “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” came up. I smiled. I heard it.
This week has sucked. Suuuuuucked. I texted Justin this morning and simply said “I hate everything.” Another series of annoying things happened and I was coming to this text box to write on this blog about how much everything sucks and list the litany of sucky things that have happened to me this week. But, really, I don’t actually want to live that way. Be that way. And I don’t want any advice or assistance, so … why put it out there?
Just know this: One more stupid/bad/frustrating thing happens to me today and I might just lie down where I stand and pull my scarf over my face and go to sleep. Sleeping in the face of adversity seems like an epic success of coping mechanisms.
Today’s adapted recipe is for no-bake energy bites. All measurements approximate!
- 1 cup rolled oats
- 2/3 cup shredded coconut
- 2 scoops chocolate protein powder
- 1 cup crispy rice cereal
- 1 tbsp cocoa powder
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- 2/3 cup almond butter
- 1/3 cup honey
- 1/2 cup coconut oil
Mix the first 7 ingredients in a large bowl.
Combine the last three ingredients in a microwave-safe dish. Microwave for a minute or so to melt, and stir to combine them. Add the softened ingredients to the dry ingredients and stir until all ingredients are well blended.
Press the mixture into a pan lined with parchment paper, cover, and refrigerate to set.
After they’ve set, cut into cubes and store in the refrigerator until you’ve eaten them all… Which won’t take long.
Note: I cut them up into 30 pieces. MyFitnessPal says they’re 125 calories each.