I'm pretty terrible at relaxing in the traditional sense. There are just so many things that need doing, and I generally enjoy doing them. Dishes, washing the floors, orchestrating a complicated and beautiful meal-- these things give me my zen moments. It's a favorite thing to complete a wash of my hardwood floors, stand up and admire how it gleams, then take off my socks and walk on the silky cleanliness. I know, I'm totally a weirdo; I've been told more than once. When I do sit down for a few minutes, I find myself plotting the next task to tackle or picking up a magazine or scrolling through my phone or standing up again to go find Eric. A girlfriend asked me a few months ago when I ever just sit by myself and do nothing at all. To me, doing nothing at all feels like I'm being lazy and I love to be
productive (ironically, I'm not being productive at work right now).If I don't feel like I need that...then I don't, right?
Eric and I like to chill out together in the basement after the baby's asleep. This involves a dinner we've hopefully cooked together, Netflix, and a futon we laid flat in the frame so we can sprawl out. But even then I like to put a fresh load in the wash and bring down a basket of clothes to fold. Business and pleasure.
I was forced to slow down from my typical gogogogogogo mode after Ethan was born. Suddenly I had to sit down every hour or couple hours to nurse him for an indeterminate amount of time, regardless of the state my house was in. With nothing in my hands and nowhere to go, I found myself just gazing at him. Thinking about how I'd like to improve his life. Wondering what he'll look like as a toddler. And I found myself love, love, LOVING it. It is far and away the most relaxing thing I do all day. I admire his squishy little cheeks and tiny, perfect eyebrows, and stroke his soft head. He's doing things with his hands now and likes to pat my chest, shoulders, and face while nursing, which is so sweet. I do keep my phone nearby in the evenings when he nurses to sleep since that ritual takes a while, but if he's awake? I'm looking at him and inhaling his baby fragrance. I can't imagine missing these treasured moments because I have a complex with staying busy. I'm so glad he forced me to relax with him at the outset.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Radvent, Day 6: Humbling
I don't have any deep thoughts over today's subject of humbling. I'll go down Megan's list instead.
1) Talk less today. I don't talk a lot as it is, I'm a good listener but I'm not terribly good at observing. And when I'm silent, I'm probably living inside my head-- I do tend to check out for a minute to explore some thought triggered by something I heard you say. This isn't intended to put the speaker aside so much as it is a reflex, but I've been obvious about snapping back to reality before. I'll listen in a more present way today.
2) Pick up trash you see. The ladies in my office often leave paper towels littered right next to the trash can in the restroom. C'mon, now. I sometimes pick up but am usually grossed out if they're wet, even though I know it's probably just water from handwashing. I'll pick up all of it today.
3) Ignore class rules. I am very proud (is that counterintuitive to this post?) of the fact that I am consciously kind and courteous to everyone I meet or speak with on the phone. Gandhi said that his religion was kindness, and I think that's a worthy ideal to try and attain. Even when I'm angry, I try to be factual instead of a smartass, and I have to say that it's saved me a couple of times-- more than once I've worked out a bitchy tongue-lashing in my head, only to find out the whole issue was a misunderstanding or that circumstances were out of someone's control. I sure would've hated to eat those words.
4) Be respectful of people in service. I find it dismaying when I hear of people valuing others more, simply because of their profession. When I was in basic training, I accidentally called a captain a petty officer (meaningless in the real world, appalling in the Navy). While lambasting me for this egregious error, the captain got in my face and asked how offended I'd be if she accidentally called me a "lowly janitor." I said I wouldn't have been offended at all, since the janitors were just as important as I was and maybe even more so. She look totally, utterly confused. How is a janitor a lesser person than anyone else in the workplace? I value cleanliness, don't you? I am exceedingly grateful to have a clean office. While the executives I know guide the company towards profitability (in some opinions anyway), which translates out to my paycheck, they also aren't keeping sanitizing the sinks in the restroom during flu season or repairing the heater when it conks out or most importantly, keeping the coffee machine in tip-top shape. I think our talents in the workplace are just different and equally worthy of esteem, just as we are all different and equally worthy of esteem in our world community.
1) Talk less today. I don't talk a lot as it is, I'm a good listener but I'm not terribly good at observing. And when I'm silent, I'm probably living inside my head-- I do tend to check out for a minute to explore some thought triggered by something I heard you say. This isn't intended to put the speaker aside so much as it is a reflex, but I've been obvious about snapping back to reality before. I'll listen in a more present way today.
2) Pick up trash you see. The ladies in my office often leave paper towels littered right next to the trash can in the restroom. C'mon, now. I sometimes pick up but am usually grossed out if they're wet, even though I know it's probably just water from handwashing. I'll pick up all of it today.
3) Ignore class rules. I am very proud (is that counterintuitive to this post?) of the fact that I am consciously kind and courteous to everyone I meet or speak with on the phone. Gandhi said that his religion was kindness, and I think that's a worthy ideal to try and attain. Even when I'm angry, I try to be factual instead of a smartass, and I have to say that it's saved me a couple of times-- more than once I've worked out a bitchy tongue-lashing in my head, only to find out the whole issue was a misunderstanding or that circumstances were out of someone's control. I sure would've hated to eat those words.
4) Be respectful of people in service. I find it dismaying when I hear of people valuing others more, simply because of their profession. When I was in basic training, I accidentally called a captain a petty officer (meaningless in the real world, appalling in the Navy). While lambasting me for this egregious error, the captain got in my face and asked how offended I'd be if she accidentally called me a "lowly janitor." I said I wouldn't have been offended at all, since the janitors were just as important as I was and maybe even more so. She look totally, utterly confused. How is a janitor a lesser person than anyone else in the workplace? I value cleanliness, don't you? I am exceedingly grateful to have a clean office. While the executives I know guide the company towards profitability (in some opinions anyway), which translates out to my paycheck, they also aren't keeping sanitizing the sinks in the restroom during flu season or repairing the heater when it conks out or most importantly, keeping the coffee machine in tip-top shape. I think our talents in the workplace are just different and equally worthy of esteem, just as we are all different and equally worthy of esteem in our world community.
Radvent, Day 5: Decorate
I put off this post yesterday so I could take a picture of my living room, but then I got home and was (quite predictably, in hindsight) swept up in the baby routine and in visiting with my dad. It was his last evening with us before he drives home to Ohio today, and I ended up not wanting to spend time away from him. So here is a picture of my living/dining room at Thanksgiving instead, courtesy of Instagram:
There are a few things that make me happy about this picture. The turquoise wall is bright and happy, and reflects light and lifts me up. Even if it's starting to darken out, the color magically morphs into something soothing and warm, despite it's cool tone. That painting is the first piece of art I've ever owned, purchased from a good friend and artist here in Omaha, Wayne Brekke. (The ceiling fan does not make me happy, however.) The table is set for a feast for 15, with my grandmother's heirloom china and silver candlesticks given to us as a wedding gift. The boy in the white shirt is my dear brother, who lives away so I hardly get to see him, and my husband can barely be seen at the French doors in back. And the little white blur in front is the happiest of happy fluffballs, Inga. I love hosting for the holidays.
I've never given a lot of effort to holiday decorating since I never knew for sure where I'd end up. Since Eric and I started living together, we've amassed a hodge podge collection of hand-me-down holiday pieces, some I delight in and some I cringe at. Now that I know we're in this house for the long haul, I plan to replace the cringe-worthy with beautiful holiday pieces, one at a time, to create a holiday landscape indoors that pleases all of us. I'm looking forward to hitting up the post-Christmas Pier 1 sales!
Home decorating....that's different. I still kind of take the easy road. It's so easy to paint rooms bold colors and adorn them with art and prints and instantly look like you know what you're doing. Furniture, lamps, accessories? So overwhelming and so not my thing. Happily, Eric has a touch of the interior decorator in him, and he picks out that stuff. It's awesome to be able to fill in the blanks for each other.
There are a few things that make me happy about this picture. The turquoise wall is bright and happy, and reflects light and lifts me up. Even if it's starting to darken out, the color magically morphs into something soothing and warm, despite it's cool tone. That painting is the first piece of art I've ever owned, purchased from a good friend and artist here in Omaha, Wayne Brekke. (The ceiling fan does not make me happy, however.) The table is set for a feast for 15, with my grandmother's heirloom china and silver candlesticks given to us as a wedding gift. The boy in the white shirt is my dear brother, who lives away so I hardly get to see him, and my husband can barely be seen at the French doors in back. And the little white blur in front is the happiest of happy fluffballs, Inga. I love hosting for the holidays.
I've never given a lot of effort to holiday decorating since I never knew for sure where I'd end up. Since Eric and I started living together, we've amassed a hodge podge collection of hand-me-down holiday pieces, some I delight in and some I cringe at. Now that I know we're in this house for the long haul, I plan to replace the cringe-worthy with beautiful holiday pieces, one at a time, to create a holiday landscape indoors that pleases all of us. I'm looking forward to hitting up the post-Christmas Pier 1 sales!
Home decorating....that's different. I still kind of take the easy road. It's so easy to paint rooms bold colors and adorn them with art and prints and instantly look like you know what you're doing. Furniture, lamps, accessories? So overwhelming and so not my thing. Happily, Eric has a touch of the interior decorator in him, and he picks out that stuff. It's awesome to be able to fill in the blanks for each other.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Radvent, Day 4: Sincerely
Lately, I've been having to write a lot of thank-you cards. I graduated from school this year, had two baby showers and then had a baby, and all that celebration adds up to one hell of a lot of thank-you cards! Initially I felt like this was a chore and had to schedule myself time to sit down for them, but more recently, I've found that I sincerely enjoy doing it. The act of writing out the truth of my gratitude has been cathartic, in a way, and now I leave my shiny metallic pens and squirrel notecards (thanks, Becca!) in the credenza right next to the dining room table so I can jot a note whenever I feel the need to thank someone. And I'd like to do it more.
I find inspiration in sincerity many places.
I find inspiration in sincerity many places.
- At home, Eric and I like to leave little surprise notes for each other. I found a sweet one stuck in my bag one day a week or so ago when I got to work.
- We have a dry erase board on the fridge I regularly update with one of Ethan's new sounds and my "translation," usually some incarnation of "my dad's rad!" or "my pop's tops!" Yep. Cheesetastic.
- Once I was at Caffeine Dreams and felt something brush my leg. I reached under the table and found a note that said "Dear Stranger: Close your eyes and take a breath. Everything will work out beautifully. Take heart!"
- I belong to a group on Facebook called Mail is for Lovers, a group formed specifically to bring back the dwindling tradition of sending handwritten notes in the mail.
- My wonderful friend Anne, who also happens to be the busiest person I've ever met, somehow still finds moments in her jam-packed days to write a few thoughtful words on a sweet card and randomly drop it in the mail for a friend.
Radvent, Day 3: Compilation
I have always LOVED mixed music compilations. I made them all the time for myself in junior high, sort of accidentally falling into the habit after recording a song off the radio so I could memorize the lyrics (ha, so dorky!). In high school, we choir kids would dub tapes of choir songs we came across and excitedly traded them with each other (equally dorky). And in college, I was in absolute heaven with Napster. I made sooo many lists and saved them on my computer, which then croaked, and then Napster croaked too, so everything was lost. I still lament the loss of that beautiful recording of Schubert's "An die Musik" I found while taking voice classes. I have never found it again and don't remember the singer's name.
My husband also adores music. He grew up listening to CCR to my Michael Jackson, The Monkees to my New Kids on the Block, Seattle grunge to my 90's R&B. It was a clash of musical tastes when we got together, and I still do a little bit of a facepalm when I remember serenading him with Brian McKnight's "Back at One" before learning later that he'd prefer to listen to pretty much anything but R&B.
It's been a long time since I made a treasured mixtape. Over the years, we've gotten a couple of mixed CDs from friends for road trips, and I cherished those. Perhaps I'll make a mix this week-- I was planning to download a bunch of favorite Christmas songs to play while baking anyway! I've been addicted to my Doris Day Holiday channel on Pandora. Love, love, love the old Christmas classics.
One album I've listened to almost on repeat this past year has been First Aid Kit's "The Big Black and the Blue." It's FABULOUS-- check it out.
I don't know that all of these songs correlate directly to turning points in the past year. Many do, some others I just really loved listening to. And probably not a single one is current! Off the top of my head and in no particular order:
In My Life - The Beatles
Punchbag - A Band of Bees
Die, Die, Die - The Avett Brothers
Right Here, Right Now - Jesus Jones
Drive My Car - The Beatles
Here Comes Your Man - The Pixies
Between the Bars - Elliott Smith
Wolf - First Aid Kit
Must Be Dreaming - Frou Frou
Rise Up With Fists!! - Jenny Lewis
California Gurls - Katy Perry (guilty pleasure!)
Changes - David Bowie
This just turned into a great music day. :D
My husband also adores music. He grew up listening to CCR to my Michael Jackson, The Monkees to my New Kids on the Block, Seattle grunge to my 90's R&B. It was a clash of musical tastes when we got together, and I still do a little bit of a facepalm when I remember serenading him with Brian McKnight's "Back at One" before learning later that he'd prefer to listen to pretty much anything but R&B.
It's been a long time since I made a treasured mixtape. Over the years, we've gotten a couple of mixed CDs from friends for road trips, and I cherished those. Perhaps I'll make a mix this week-- I was planning to download a bunch of favorite Christmas songs to play while baking anyway! I've been addicted to my Doris Day Holiday channel on Pandora. Love, love, love the old Christmas classics.
One album I've listened to almost on repeat this past year has been First Aid Kit's "The Big Black and the Blue." It's FABULOUS-- check it out.
I don't know that all of these songs correlate directly to turning points in the past year. Many do, some others I just really loved listening to. And probably not a single one is current! Off the top of my head and in no particular order:
In My Life - The Beatles
Punchbag - A Band of Bees
Die, Die, Die - The Avett Brothers
Right Here, Right Now - Jesus Jones
Drive My Car - The Beatles
Here Comes Your Man - The Pixies
Between the Bars - Elliott Smith
Wolf - First Aid Kit
Must Be Dreaming - Frou Frou
Rise Up With Fists!! - Jenny Lewis
California Gurls - Katy Perry (guilty pleasure!)
Changes - David Bowie
This just turned into a great music day. :D
Radvent, Day 2: Self Worth
I don't believe I've ever felt a lack of self-worth before now. There are too many other fascinating things to think about-- who cares if someone thinks I'm too loud or my top's too low or that my conversation's inappropriate? Don't look and don't listen, man! I truly believe that being unapologetically true to yourself (within moral reason) is a wonderfully freeing state of mind, and has the added benefit of unconsciously giving others around you the permission and confidence to be their own best selves, too. The time when I have felt the most influential in my life was also the time I was happiest and doing exactly as I wanted. I don't think there's a coincidence there. Happiness, confidence, and enthusiasm are catching.
That said, I obviously have moments of self-consciousness, which seem to be coming around more of late. More specifically, I have these moments where I question my self-worth during, of all things....conversation. I've been lucky enough to meet fantastic and fascinating friends, all super smart and witty. I call them our party crowd since we always see them at great cocktail parties, bars, band shows, or really any fun event. They are welcoming and warm, and have always been interested in me and what I have to say. But I don't feel like I have anything to say! At least not anything that would interest them-- my main topic of reading now? Babies. And these friends of whom I speak, they are an older set with either grown children or no children. At that stage in life, would YOU want to hear my theories on how to best strip cloth diapers or how I'm getting better results with manual expression instead of pumping? I didn't think so. When I was in school, I felt like I never had a shortage of things to talk about. I really enjoyed a course on the Constitution where we picked apart every single amendment and had rousing classroom discussions, then wrote impassioned opinion pieces defending our personal interpretations. I had great conversations with almost everyone in my life during that time. And my Latin American Cinema class especially blew open my mind to the histories and daily lives of many Spanish-speaking cultures. I simply couldn't stop talking about La Guerra Sucia, I just couldn't wrap my head around the vast atrocities (and their repercussions) visited upon all those Argentinians, and I REALLY couldn't believe I'd never learned any of this in high school history! I mean, shouldn't fairly recent civil wars be a major topic of interest when educating teenagers on their world? Not at my high school, evidently. But I digress.
These friends would listen patiently, if I spoke, and perhaps even contribute their own rejoinders. But in my effort to not be "that mom who talks of nothing but her child," I've mostly been saying nothing in group settings. (This sounds like yesterday's post-- damn you, whoever came up with that quote!) I figure if I just hang out and pay attention and listen, surely I can chime in with something valuable at some point, right? The problem is, I end up just...sitting there. Listening. Laughing at the appropriate moments. Smiling in a manner that must look just vapid. And contributing nothing. And when it's time for us all to go, I feel like a completely worthless conversationalist, useless as a friend, stressed out that I left no witty reparteés to remember me by, like just a piece of pretty furniture. Lame.
To this, I see three obvious solutions: don't hang out with those friends (suck); get new friends whose main point of attention at the moment is also babies (easier said than done); or read the news all damn day just in case I have to have a conversation about it (also suck). We're friends with two other couples with young children and I feel perfectly at ease with and happy around them, but hey-- did I mention we all have young children? It makes for a rather truncated schedule. I know, I know. I'm making excuses.
I suppose the solution to this low feeling is to stop gripping so tightly to my party crowd. Perhaps this sudden wordlessness is a quiet message that it is okay for me to let go-- it's okay to not identify with the cocktail set anymore. And host more in-home gatherings with the people with whom I can actually talk about vaccines and gentle discipline. I can't simultaneously belong both in the bar and in the nursery, even though honestly, I would like to. But with a change in priorities comes a change in habits, and I suppose that naturally leads to a change in interests and conversations. It DOESN'T mean a change in self-worth for the lesser.
That said, I obviously have moments of self-consciousness, which seem to be coming around more of late. More specifically, I have these moments where I question my self-worth during, of all things....conversation. I've been lucky enough to meet fantastic and fascinating friends, all super smart and witty. I call them our party crowd since we always see them at great cocktail parties, bars, band shows, or really any fun event. They are welcoming and warm, and have always been interested in me and what I have to say. But I don't feel like I have anything to say! At least not anything that would interest them-- my main topic of reading now? Babies. And these friends of whom I speak, they are an older set with either grown children or no children. At that stage in life, would YOU want to hear my theories on how to best strip cloth diapers or how I'm getting better results with manual expression instead of pumping? I didn't think so. When I was in school, I felt like I never had a shortage of things to talk about. I really enjoyed a course on the Constitution where we picked apart every single amendment and had rousing classroom discussions, then wrote impassioned opinion pieces defending our personal interpretations. I had great conversations with almost everyone in my life during that time. And my Latin American Cinema class especially blew open my mind to the histories and daily lives of many Spanish-speaking cultures. I simply couldn't stop talking about La Guerra Sucia, I just couldn't wrap my head around the vast atrocities (and their repercussions) visited upon all those Argentinians, and I REALLY couldn't believe I'd never learned any of this in high school history! I mean, shouldn't fairly recent civil wars be a major topic of interest when educating teenagers on their world? Not at my high school, evidently. But I digress.
These friends would listen patiently, if I spoke, and perhaps even contribute their own rejoinders. But in my effort to not be "that mom who talks of nothing but her child," I've mostly been saying nothing in group settings. (This sounds like yesterday's post-- damn you, whoever came up with that quote!) I figure if I just hang out and pay attention and listen, surely I can chime in with something valuable at some point, right? The problem is, I end up just...sitting there. Listening. Laughing at the appropriate moments. Smiling in a manner that must look just vapid. And contributing nothing. And when it's time for us all to go, I feel like a completely worthless conversationalist, useless as a friend, stressed out that I left no witty reparteés to remember me by, like just a piece of pretty furniture. Lame.
To this, I see three obvious solutions: don't hang out with those friends (suck); get new friends whose main point of attention at the moment is also babies (easier said than done); or read the news all damn day just in case I have to have a conversation about it (also suck). We're friends with two other couples with young children and I feel perfectly at ease with and happy around them, but hey-- did I mention we all have young children? It makes for a rather truncated schedule. I know, I know. I'm making excuses.
I suppose the solution to this low feeling is to stop gripping so tightly to my party crowd. Perhaps this sudden wordlessness is a quiet message that it is okay for me to let go-- it's okay to not identify with the cocktail set anymore. And host more in-home gatherings with the people with whom I can actually talk about vaccines and gentle discipline. I can't simultaneously belong both in the bar and in the nursery, even though honestly, I would like to. But with a change in priorities comes a change in habits, and I suppose that naturally leads to a change in interests and conversations. It DOESN'T mean a change in self-worth for the lesser.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Radvent, Day 1: Knowing
What do I know for sure today? Let's go with a random, rag-tag list since I'm good at lists.
1) I know I'm woefully bad at getting started. At anything, really-- writing, knitting any of the dozens of projects I have queued up on Ravelry (I don't think I've knit in a year actually, yet I continue to linger over adorable patterns), working on a birth scrapbook, getting doughs together to freeze for future pizzas or pies. This isn't all that different from last year. I've been a procrastinator for a long time. I think last year a New Year's resolution I had was to blog at least monthly, and that so didn't happen. Why? I'm busy, yes, but never too busy to idle over Facebook, or read posts from 47-and-counting blogs, or reject recipe after recipe in search of the perfect dark chocolate tart, which then only gets made for some special occasion instead of just because. I wonder if the reason I've been avoiding writing is because I'm worried nothing I have to say is of any value? I generally feel that way about speaking-- who was it that said "It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt?" I began living that quote after I read it. And you know what? Many, many times since, someone else in the room at any given number of occasions has said whatever it was I was thinking but not saying, my same opinion or my same idea, and was lauded for it. What did I gain from remaining silent? And how is that quote also affecting my life in terms of not-doing, as well as not-speaking?
2) I know I absolutely love being a mama. I've known since I was a kid myself that I would be someone's wife and someone's mother. I was afraid for a while that I wasn't going to get to be a natural mom, and after my son was born, I learned that was a valid fear since only half of my uterus is functional. I would like to have another child someday, but if that doesn't happen, I also know that Ethan is enough. My heart is filled to bursting with love for this boy, and my head is filled with craft and holiday tradition ideas that are way too old for his four months of age! It's going to kill me to wait a few years to make an advent tree and start doing awesome family things together. I can't wait to go ice-skating and make eggnog and Christmas cookies and a gingerbread house and watch A Charlie Brown Christmas together, to show him how cool it is to volunteer in your community and make people happy. I'm thrilled to agonize over his future birthday parties. I mentally rehearse how to teach him basic math with measuring cups as he "helps" make dinner. At the same time, I know I need to slow down in my head and cherish this precious time with him as an immobile baby. Which time is going to be the last that he wears those cute monkey pajamas? When will be the last time he gives me a sleepy, milk-filled smile before drifting off? I am known for racing ahead in my mind and living in the future when the present is already so delicious. Sloooooooow your roll, Gini!
3) I know my marriage is super solid, and that makes me happy. I also know I'm still really shaken up (inexplicably) over the period of time that it wasn't solid, and that I should probably talk to someone about that.
4) I know I'm bored with my job. I've been with this company for nine years and have finally advanced to the team I've always held in such high regard-- Anti-Money Laundering. Sound fascinating? Investigating real suspicious activity is pretty interesting and I totally love catching people doing sneaky and bad things. I love writing up a report and sending it to the Financial Center for Economic Crimes. It makes me feel like I'm in a crazy cool movie when I'm really just pushing paper and trying to avoid Facebook. However, much of our daily work has been lost to busywork and really stupid bureaucratic requirements rather than real investigations. I'm a huge believer in loving what you do for a living. I mean, you spend the majority of your time at work! Shouldn't you love it? Who wants to fritter his or her life away doing something unsatisfying? So, as I do whenever I am dissatisfied with my job, I'm dreaming of a business of my own and jotting down ideas. No, I won't tell you what it is because it'd TOTALLY fill a niche market here and that's aaaaallll mine.
5) I know I am so incredibly lucky. I feel like I'm truly living the American Dream-- I have a handsome and considerate husband, a beautiful baby, a grand home, good jobs that pay our bills, let us spend AND let us save, loving family members, wonderful friends. We travel whenever we want. It's like a picture-perfect life that probably millions of people would die to have, including people we've met on our travels. Despite this, I have a tendency to snipe and complain about small discomforts. It bothers me when I catch myself doing this, so I'm going to work on being more mindful and grateful in my personal life.
What five things do you know today?
1) I know I'm woefully bad at getting started. At anything, really-- writing, knitting any of the dozens of projects I have queued up on Ravelry (I don't think I've knit in a year actually, yet I continue to linger over adorable patterns), working on a birth scrapbook, getting doughs together to freeze for future pizzas or pies. This isn't all that different from last year. I've been a procrastinator for a long time. I think last year a New Year's resolution I had was to blog at least monthly, and that so didn't happen. Why? I'm busy, yes, but never too busy to idle over Facebook, or read posts from 47-and-counting blogs, or reject recipe after recipe in search of the perfect dark chocolate tart, which then only gets made for some special occasion instead of just because. I wonder if the reason I've been avoiding writing is because I'm worried nothing I have to say is of any value? I generally feel that way about speaking-- who was it that said "It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt?" I began living that quote after I read it. And you know what? Many, many times since, someone else in the room at any given number of occasions has said whatever it was I was thinking but not saying, my same opinion or my same idea, and was lauded for it. What did I gain from remaining silent? And how is that quote also affecting my life in terms of not-doing, as well as not-speaking?
2) I know I absolutely love being a mama. I've known since I was a kid myself that I would be someone's wife and someone's mother. I was afraid for a while that I wasn't going to get to be a natural mom, and after my son was born, I learned that was a valid fear since only half of my uterus is functional. I would like to have another child someday, but if that doesn't happen, I also know that Ethan is enough. My heart is filled to bursting with love for this boy, and my head is filled with craft and holiday tradition ideas that are way too old for his four months of age! It's going to kill me to wait a few years to make an advent tree and start doing awesome family things together. I can't wait to go ice-skating and make eggnog and Christmas cookies and a gingerbread house and watch A Charlie Brown Christmas together, to show him how cool it is to volunteer in your community and make people happy. I'm thrilled to agonize over his future birthday parties. I mentally rehearse how to teach him basic math with measuring cups as he "helps" make dinner. At the same time, I know I need to slow down in my head and cherish this precious time with him as an immobile baby. Which time is going to be the last that he wears those cute monkey pajamas? When will be the last time he gives me a sleepy, milk-filled smile before drifting off? I am known for racing ahead in my mind and living in the future when the present is already so delicious. Sloooooooow your roll, Gini!
3) I know my marriage is super solid, and that makes me happy. I also know I'm still really shaken up (inexplicably) over the period of time that it wasn't solid, and that I should probably talk to someone about that.
4) I know I'm bored with my job. I've been with this company for nine years and have finally advanced to the team I've always held in such high regard-- Anti-Money Laundering. Sound fascinating? Investigating real suspicious activity is pretty interesting and I totally love catching people doing sneaky and bad things. I love writing up a report and sending it to the Financial Center for Economic Crimes. It makes me feel like I'm in a crazy cool movie when I'm really just pushing paper and trying to avoid Facebook. However, much of our daily work has been lost to busywork and really stupid bureaucratic requirements rather than real investigations. I'm a huge believer in loving what you do for a living. I mean, you spend the majority of your time at work! Shouldn't you love it? Who wants to fritter his or her life away doing something unsatisfying? So, as I do whenever I am dissatisfied with my job, I'm dreaming of a business of my own and jotting down ideas. No, I won't tell you what it is because it'd TOTALLY fill a niche market here and that's aaaaallll mine.
5) I know I am so incredibly lucky. I feel like I'm truly living the American Dream-- I have a handsome and considerate husband, a beautiful baby, a grand home, good jobs that pay our bills, let us spend AND let us save, loving family members, wonderful friends. We travel whenever we want. It's like a picture-perfect life that probably millions of people would die to have, including people we've met on our travels. Despite this, I have a tendency to snipe and complain about small discomforts. It bothers me when I catch myself doing this, so I'm going to work on being more mindful and grateful in my personal life.
What five things do you know today?
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