Tuesday, October 26, 2010

And if meditation doesn't work...

Wood Block Relaxing: verb. Trying to relax but in no way getting there.

Recently I've seen a lot of articles about doing breathing exercises and meditating to help relax and destress. I've been feeling more anxious than is necessary lately, so I thought I would give it a go. Mind you, I'm not into the looking-for-enlightenment sort of thing, but just sitting quietly and breathing and just letting it all go for a moment.

So, early in the afternoon, I was anxious and perplexed. Bad weather has given me an ongoing headache for days. I got lost thinking and planning about something all morning, and before I knew it, I had forgotten to make myself lunch. The children, of course, had already eaten. Then those little pesky thoughts start to set in.

Scout meeting. There's a scout meeting tonight. Forgot. Bobcat badge. Oh, darn it, does he still remember the stuff he memorized for that? Camping trip coming up. No! The health form! I forgot to fill in the health form! Shirts. We're supposed to get those shirts from the lady at the meeting. Did I remind Husband to pick up cash for that? Wait. What time is it? I have to go get Philosopher child from school. How's our bread supply? WHY IS VIKING TODDLER CRYING THIS TIME???

Finally, returning home from the school, seeing how much I needed to accomplish today and how very lacking I had been, I decided to give that sitting quietly thing a go. I calmly told the boys to pick up the toys in the living room, and I was going to spend 5 minutes in my bedroom having just a few quiet moments.

I shut the door and sat down. Relaxing? No. This is what I immediately heard:

"Pick up the toys!"
"Get off of me!"

Relaxing. Riiiiiiight...

Friday, October 22, 2010

Wide Confinement

Wide Confinement: noun. State of having lots of space but nothing to really call your own.

Do you remember when you were a kid or a teen? How you couldn't wait to have your own house so your mom would stop telling you to put all your things in your room? Remember when you first had this dreaded conversation about the state of cleanliness of your room:

"It's MY room!" you scream.

"No it's not!" your mom yells. "It's MY room in MY house! You don't HAVE a room!"

OK, at least that's how it went between me and my mom. Maybe yours was one of those "give them space" types.


I'm a grown-up now. Supposedly. I have a house and my personal belongings are scattered through it (take that, Mom!). And yet, I really don't have a space that I can point to and say, "Mine!" Not a big deal in the grand scheme of things. I mean, at least I have a house to live in when so many people around us are losing theirs. There have been at least 3 foreclosures on our block this year.

The thing is that it's not just about having my own space. The problem lies with me. Me and this short dreaded word: crafts. In recent times, I've found out that crafty makes me happy, and crafty often involves a sewing machine. That's not the problem in and of itself, but the fact that I have no permanent place to set up my craftily craftiness. I set up a folding table in the living room, put my supplies on it, and put the supplies away when I'm done. Sometimes I even remember to put the folding table back.

In a small house, it is hard to find a permanent place to put these things. And then I got the wandering eye which fell upon (*scary music here*) Husband's work/hobby room. I bet I could reorganize that to make some extra space along that one wall...

Did you hear that? Husband, somewhere, just shuddered in terror.

Monday, October 18, 2010


Vantasm: noun. An object, person, or situation that clearly exists, but the children say otherwise.

10:30am, Monday morning. Philosopher Child was at school, Viking Toddler was playing quietly, and I was catching up on housework. After a quick pick-up of all the rooms in the house, a quick mop, doing the dishes, cleaning the bathrooms, and putting in a load of laundry, I was going through lunch options in my mind.

We had pizza a few days before, and the there was a slice left over. (Yeah, yeah, I know how bad pizza is for you, especially since I'm trying to shed a few pounds, but this place has epicly awesome pizza.) Viking Toddler started asking for it at about 8:30am.

"[Viking Toddler]! Are you hungry?" I asked at 10:30. "Do you still want that pizza? Or a sandwich?"

And then came the reply from my little guy. "[Viking Toddler]'s not here!"

Oh. Um, that's new.

"OK," I replied, not quite sure what else to say. "Let me know when he gets back."

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Kinda, sorta, but not quite MIA

I know, I know. I've been a bad, bad blogger. I haven't written for a few weeks and have even lost a few followers. All being my fault for my not making time.

But where have I been, you ask? Well, let's see here. Husband had to get his wisdom teeth taken out (all 4!), so I was nursemaid for a bit. The Boys were both sick at one time. Philosopher Child just started Cub Scouts. And of course, CRAFTING! There was some pumpkin pie from scratch (and I do mean scratch), some sewing of clothing for me and a pair of lounge pants for Viking Toddler, and I'm currently working on Halloween costumes. I'm desperately trying to get Philosopher Child's costume done before his teacher announces the date of the Halloween party, which should be coming up any time now.

But wait! You didn't come here to read about the inner workings of my day-to-day boring life.* You came here for me to tell you a ridiculous story and be entertained! So here you go!

Misapplique: verb. To take an understanding of one situation and mistakenly apply it to another.

When Philospher Child was smaller, he looked at a tree that had lost its leaves and announced, "That tree is naked!" The innocence and inherent truth in the statement was flooring, not to mention hilarious. I had completely forgotten about this situation until a few days ago when he saw a tree that lost its leaves and made the same statement, but more as a memory that he had once said it than a serious statement.

Viking Toddler, not to be outshone in an-y-thing, started calling every single tree "naked." And, because that clearly wasn't enough, he started saying the trees had *ahem* things that you see while naked. Way to go, Viking Toddler! You made a simple walk to school both funny and uncomfortable! We don't shout words like that in public.

*Husband asked me one day about Twitter. I told him that I don't Twitter because I'm simply not that interesting.

"What will I write about?" I said. "Doing laundry?"

"Apparently," he responded, "that's what Twitter is for."