Lost in space

Eat right, sugar is poison, flour is poison, exercise regularly, TV is evil, walk more, detox, juice cleanse, moisturize, floss...

Get lost

Every once and a while, we need a lost day. You know, it's cold and drizzling outside: not wet enough to pull out the umbrella, but guaranteed to make your mittens soggy. You stay in bed watching TV, or reading, munching on crackers (crackers in bed, ha!), take a nap, leave the clean laundry in piles to put away later...the sky, that never really looked bright, starts to darken and you realize it is past supper time. That's a lost day.

Laziness? Nah...I like to think of it as a mental health retreat. A ritual we partook in before having kids, and one that I think I would benefit from now.  My husband still manages the odd lost afternoon, but I rarely take the time to slow down.

Slow down? What the hell am I doing everyday, anyways? Well, I have responsibilities! Money that won't spend itself! Corners of the house cluttered up with life, corners that MUST BE organized. The children need to smell nice, and play nice, and pee in the toilet (Why is it so difficult to aim that thing, anyways?) There are meals to prepare from scratch. The dishes need to be put away. One can not just sit in bed.

I have to admit I am no longer sure what is important in life. Dana's book shook me a bit. Then, Thich Something Hanh's buddist teachings seeped in. This week I read Bliss, by Peter Carey, he mocks the middle class and gave me a few sharp jabs in the ribs with a boney finger. I am now reading non-fiction. History of the dutch empire.

A little lost

I want to learn to meditate - - - isn't that just adding another layer of complexity to the day? ...and smug, a way of trying to be better than you?

I want to find some of the people I've lost. I said it before, there are so many people I let drift out of my life. What would happen if I invited them all over to my house? To sit in my living room. Sounds like I want to live in the past - not exactly. I want them to know that they were very important in my life and I still carry them with me! Of course, I forget so many names...sometimes I only have faces attached to my memories.

I am not feeling particularity creative. I turned thirty six. I lost my wanderlust. I have 15 more books to read to bring my 2013 quota up to 100. I keep getting a cold and/or flu. I would have appreciated knowing that it is possible for children to make it 4.5 years without sleeping through the night. My short term memory fails me over and over - I have notes written on scraps of paper tucked into gfi outlets and taped to the monitor (I write things down when I can find paper that hasn't been scribbled on).

I put the iphone down. Most of the day, it sits abandoned. I no longer panic when I forget where it is.

Change in seasons. Spring is a time for renewal. What is fall? Fall is shopping for Christmas presents, and I hate the mall. I wish I could save everyone from the mall. (I hate supermarkets too). Hate is a strong word. I mean it for the mall, but supermarkets are ok.

My lecture series at U of Toronto started out strong. History, then art history. The last 3-4 topics fizzled. I want to look into the art professor's work. I want to own it (Buddha says we enter this world with nothing, we leave this world with nothing, attachment is the source of suffering)...I only saw the one image he put on his powerpoint slide, demonstrating vemeer's technique, but I like his style. I forget his name.

I am getting a cold again. I don't think I will leave the house this afternoon. The weather is not playing nice, and it's a rare chance to sit around a do nothing.

Bikes and Bubbles

"Ignore petty problems...", with that, I come back to my senses, set down my iphone, swallow the dregs of my now cold espresso, and push my chair away from the kitchen table. I savored the last few moments, surfing on my tiny screen, without interruption. I grab a scrap of paper and a dull pencil with the eraser rubbed down to the metal binding, and go outside, intending to sit on the bottom step of the deck and watch the boys riding their bicycles. "Ignore petty problems..." this wasn't the actual statement that jolted me away from my phone and back to life, only the gist... the specific words fled my mind as soon as I stepped outside. My older son was on the pea gravel, tangled upside down on his tricycle "I have my helmet on, mom." He was practicing his crashes.

I sit down on the bottom step and place the bubble machine two feet in front of me. I fill it up max (so it will run on for a while) with the bubble juice from blue jug and turn it on. This is not the super bubbly stuff, the blue jug makes only half the bubbles compared to the green jug, but the gooey contents of the green jug was spilled weeks ago. What on earth? Here comes the little guy, trying to crawl through the bubbles on all fours with his butt arched high in the air. Oh-oh! I reach out too late. The bubble machine gets turned over, soap runs everywhere. I fill it up again, move it to the left, then race up the stairs and run into the house to grab another scrap of paper. Crash...this time it was the scooter, both boys, and the bubble machine that all landed on their asses. Everyone is ok.

Me time

I put the little one to bed, walk to my room, step into the closet and step out of my jeans.  My jeans are big enough to pull on or off without worrying about the button - boyfriend jeans. Once into my workout clothes I take a quick glance in the mirror, I look at my hips, then my face, then my greasy hair, and wonder how I will muster up enough energy to actually exercise.

I grab my paperback and head downstairs to the kitchen, barefoot. The floors are drafty even with new windows. I can't believe how cold it turned. Snow on the ground again. 

I go straight to the Nespresso machine and stand there reading as it warms up. I plug in the strongest pod of coffee and punch the button. I like my espresso black. I worry that it is staining my teeth.  My teeth are too sensitive to whiten, actually, I blame whitening on the sensitivity, but maybe it is just a part of aging. I take my espresso with me to the table (just the tiny cup, I leave the tiny saucer behind) and take a seat.

I have to move a dozen or so crayola markers and my new notepad from Christmas out of the way. My older son has been practicing how to write his name in upper case and lower case. It seems sweet now to look upon, but I was majorly distracted this morning. He wanted my help while I was washing the dishes. I kept having to pull off my yellow rubber gloves - whap! to write example letters on the pad that he could trace and copy. Walking back and forth from the sink to the table while the water was running.  I should have turned off the water - I waste too much. I should have left the dishes until he was at pre-school and gave him my time this morning.

I read and sip and read and sip. I use a pencil to underline the words as I go. I am not actually marking the book, just using the pencil as a guide to improve my speed.  I got the idea on the internet.

I look up - WOW!  Where did all this snow come from? It's beautiful! I love the snow! I should love the snow damn it - I'm Canadian. That's what we do! Except I know its only the caffeine. Caffeine lifts my mood and gives me energy. I close my book and use the pencil as a bookmark. I really want to run some intervals on the elliptical!! I have about 30 mins left to myself!!  Today will be a great day!