Checking in

Checking in here for the first time in a long while. I don't think I'll be here often... the internet can be a bit of a black hole for me and I'm trying to be very focused on my priorities. First step, identifying same. However, it's nice to check in and see what some of the bloggers I've followed are up to -- and to see some beautiful people finding themselves and feeling happy. Love each day.

I heart chocolate and tolerate science

I recently watched a Nova episode about string theorists' efforts to discover a theory of everything. That is, a single theory that explains everything in the universe.
So far, the so-called string theorists have discovered that the so-called strings might actually be membranes, that the universe itself could be a membrane, and that our universe could actually be just one of many universes in the big loaf of life. Stop visualizing yummy carbs and stick with me here. Is this something that we really want to know?
We seem to be in over our heads here on Earth as it is. With ongoing killing and poverty, at home and afar, it's clear that we haven't figured out how to get along or support one another, let alone plan for the long run. Do we really want to discover whole other universes with whom to disagree? And if ours is just one of many universes, then who would we be to someone or something much bigger?
I guess this is why I don't usually watch Nova.
And why I was so relieved to learn that other scientists are hard at work on research that is infinitely more uplifting. Yes, yet another study has shown what we've always instinctively known -- chocolate is good for us. That is the kind of science that can only make us smile.

The words of the day: pancakes

Jake said, "Let's only go to church on food days." He is a fan of their fluffy pancakes.

He is not a fan of sitting quietly, although he was very good at it on Shrove Tuesday. Just the two of us, sitting in the front row -- his choice -- awkward since we hadn't been in months and I tripped over some of the responses. He is also starting to listen. This is suddenly alarming. Sometimes (invariably?) the readings are dark. Our priest does an amazing job of explaining them in a way which is relevant today. But in the meantime Jake is listening very literally. 

When he gets tired of listening, he opens the hymnal and sings softly, tracing the musical notes with his finger tip. He has the most beautiful voice.

He also likes to put a coin in the chest for children's charities and another coin in the little house for homeless people.

He really likes the fluffy pancakes.

The words of the day go to J: figure skating

J said, on Tuesday:

"Mom, remember when we turned on grown-up TV and we thought it was going to be football but it wasn't; it was figure skating? It was beautiful and cool."
...
"And we saw that guy's underwear and that was silly!"

[A male skater wore a kilt and we did, indeed, see his "underwear". Mommy laughed a lot at the unexpectedness of it.]

Stuck like glue. Old glue.

I am stuck. Totally. Crisis of confidence. Blast of reality?
Do I have the ability to do this creative work? This particular creative work, at least. This weird blend of creative and proscriptive work.
I don't know if I do. I've been stuck in my project for days. Stuck because I am... stuck... [dig deeper!] Ummmmmmm..... I am afraid. I am unsure. I am embarrassed. I haven't yet had a shower today and I'm wearing my least comfortable underwear. Should I shower to clear my head? Or is that just another form of procrastination? Well, I need to shower anyway, and it might help, so...
Meanwhile, if you're reading this, please send me some creative vibes. Thank you.

p.s. I'm designing a fashion designer's studio and retail space for a school project.

Beauty

So, I haven't blogged in months, and my first so-called post of the year is going to be... a link to another blogger's awesome post!
Check out Katie Swanberg's post entitled What is beauty? Check out the photos that Katie posted and tell me, who is more desirable? I think it's obvious; I'm curious if anyone else sees it differently.
Happy 2013!

Insomnia sucks.

It's already 10:33 a.m., which means I've been up four almost four hours, and I still haven't shaken that sleepy, hungover sort of feeling.
I'm not hungover. (Haven't had alcohol in a few days.)
I am sleepy though. I am sleepy because I got hardly any sleep last night.
I haven't been sleeping well for weeks. Since when? ...Since the end of our two-week summer vacation in late July. That makes sense. I got totally off schedule...
For a week or maybe two I treated it with medication. I took a minimal dose sleeping pill and went to bed early.
Then when I thought I had my schedule back, I tried sleeping without the Rx. (I don't want to take sleeping pills regularly, for lots of good reasons.) Happily, I was able to fall asleep relatively well the first day or two. Saturday I was reaallly physically exhausted and I slept better than I have in a long time.
Last night, not so much.
I did eventually get sleepy, put down my book, turn off the light, and fall asleep.
But I woke up when K. came in to bed.
And I was awake two hours later when the baby monitor started beeping in the living room to tell us that it was out of batteries... F*&%.
Which also woke up our son!
Who crawled into our bed, to be coaxed back to his bed with a trip to the washroom and two stories (well, one story, read twice).
Eventually I gave up tossing and turning and moved to the kitchen and then the couch where I read, until I got sleepy at 4:30.
Crawled back into bed at 4:30.
Heard my hubby reset the alarm clock before it went off. Cuddled up with him.
Was SOUND asleep when the alarm went off at 5:30. Slept until 6:30 when I had to get up and parent.
And have been trying to shake this foggy feeling ever since.
I know that I will shake it at about 8:48 p.m. this evening, just before I crawl into bed...

Insomnia sucks and I'm sorry that was SO long and boring but IF YOU HAVE ANY SUGGESTIONS I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR THEM! Thank you.

I guess if I am to learn from my own post, physical exhaustion might be a good place to start...
Chatelaine suggests walnuts... can I put them in a pastry?

"You do not have to change in order to love yourself." Some of the most obvious ideas are surprising.

Today, just an interesting quote from a post by Glennon Melton:

1. You do not have to change in order to love yourself. You have to love yourself in order to change. That means embracing yourself completely, right now at this moment -as a bitter, scared, disorganized faithless mess. ...  We must stop loving ourselves conditionally. We MUST stop being such jerks to ourselves. We must treat ourselves how we’d like others to treat us.
2. No one can have it all and people should just stop saying that already. I just listened to a woman give a speech the other day about how you CAN have it all. ...  I’m sure she meant well, but I kept thinking: you don’t have it all, lady. For example: you’re not a fisherman. Fishermen get up before sunrise and pull on their plastic gear and head out onto the bay before anyone in the whole world has woken up. They glide through the water and they sit, and they wait, and they work, and they watch the sun rise over the water and they say good morning to God first. And that is their slice of happiness. Made just for them. Not you, not her, not me.

How can ideas be both obvious and surprising?

Childhood then and now

Then: Children talked to imaginary friends 'face to face'.

Now: Child talks to imaginary friend on imaginary cell phone, in the car.


(p.s. They talk about how things are going on the "job site".)

Post-panic

I'm short on time here, but I do feel compelled to write a follow-up to yesterday's panicky post.
First, just writing that post made me feel a little bit better. (Thank you internet.)
Second, it led me to do something else that made me feel a lot better. I finally opened up to my husband that I am having some doubts. That's it. Just doubts.
I'd been afraid to say anything for fear that he would reply, "Well, if you don't want to go then just don't go," to which I would have frostily replied, "I didn't say that I don't want to go; I just said I'm having doubts."
He didn't say that though. (Which just goes to show that it's better to talk to your spouse in person than in your own head.)
He said something like this:
"Try it out. If you don't like it stop. But I want you to try it so you don't have any regrets."
It was a very brief conversation, as are all conversations during dinner with a four-year-old. The entire conversation took place during the brief window between, "I have to pee and I want more milk," and "Mom! I need help!" at which point I ran off to help in the bathroom.
And yet this conversation made me feel much better. And very, very loved.


For the record, it's not the school itself that is worrying me.
Rather, it is the prospect of going to school for three years, which is a massive investment, only to potentially discover that I have chosen the wrong career, again. Shudder.
However, I have to have faith in my ongoing ability to judge this for myself. Studying will help me discern whether, as I believe, I will be good at this and I will enjoy it. It's one thing to read about a topic, or to engage in it for oneself; it is quite another to perform on command. So, we will see.


With that out of the way I have to admit that I am a liiiittle bit nervous about the schoolwork -- I have a lot of software to learn, and I will be jumping into classes alongside students in their third and fourth years of study. I remind myself that I have seven (!) years of post-secondary education, but none of it is relevant, with the possible exception of a half-course on Medieval architecture -- best grade ever; go figure.

Panic

So, I've pretty much abandoned my blog. The usual reasons. Lack of time; too easy to get swept away in the internet once I go online... yeah, you know what I'm talking about; summer time...
HOWEVER.
I am experiencing something so unexpected and unwanted that I am throwing it out to the universe (well, the teeny tiny fraction of the universe which may read this post, anyway).
Here goes.
After years of cluttering up my life with things that might logically be organized in a home office, finally creating a home office, MONTHS OF PROCRASTINATION, and days of actively decluttering and organizing said home office, I AM ALMOST FINISHED! The end is in sight. There is just one more box to file away, and it contains stuff that I already sorted a few months ago but didn't file (telling, I know).
SO, I'm almost finished my most-dreaded decluttering job, and I feel... surprisingly... nauseous.
I should feel happy, but... my throat is swollen. Imagine if your throat were removed and replaced with a section of live boa constrictor. Exactly.
What gives?
Am I just anxious because it is time to pick up my son now and I haven't QUITE finished this job and my house is covered in paw prints and my in-law's are coming for supper tomorrow and, um, I start grad school in a brand new field in less than two weeks?
Um, yeah, maybe that has something to do with it.
OMFG!

Swinging through summer

It's been a busy few weeks -- and it's only going to get busier!
I did some career counselling as I try to find my path -- and figure out if my 'fantasy career' is really the right one. It's not that I don't dare to follow my dreams. I'm just wondering if my designated 'fantasy career' is in fact the career of my dreams. You know, if you got the chance to date your celebrity crush, would you want to? Perhaps not for long! And not at all if you're already sharing your life with the real man of your dreams.
On a completely different note, I got all craft-tastic which is totally unlike me.
First I warmed up with a hideous castle cake.
Then I helped my son make gifts for all nine(!) of his former teachers. They were supposed to be his own creations but, mea culpa, it turned into a bit of a family project.
And hosted a dynamite dino-party. Photos to follow. Roaring success followed by never-again resolution.
Finally, I recovered with a completely craft-free camping trip with our son, his two best friends, and their parents. A little (okay, a lot) disorganized, a little buggy, a lot hot, ample beach and chill time.
What will the next few weeks bring?

Consider me pinched

This morning my four-year-old invited me to have some Rice Krispies with him. As we sat across the table over breakfast, he began to sing in his pure, sweet voice:

Mothers are the best.
Mothers are the best.
Mothers really are the best.

"Do you like it?" he asked. I did, and I asked him where he'd heard it.

"I just thought of it," he said.

Pinch me!

Unfortunately, an hour later we had this little exchange:

Four-year-old: "What the heck is that?!"
That sounded a little rude coming out of a four-year-old's mouth, so I said:
"How about you try 'what in the world' instead of 'what the heck', okay honey?"
Four-year-old: "Okay mama. What in the world is that fucking thing?"

Parentism and petunias

I think I jinxed K with my Happy Father's Weekend post. His email struck me as funny and prompted me to try a dad-mocking tone (isn't that what successful mom-blogger's do?).
It's sad how common it is for moms to mock dads. Last night at soccer one of the kids arrived woefully underdressed for the cool, misty evening. She was accompanied by her father and I caught myself thinking, "Dressed by dad." I didn't say it out loud, but a minute later my friend did. I've ranted about men who don't hold onto their toddlers in parking lots. I've complained about dads who don't supervise their kids on the play structure.
It's sexist.
There are more-attentive parents and less-attentive parents of both genders, and we all have more- and less-attentive moments. The world is full of wonderful fathers, and I am blessed to raise my child with one of them.
As for Father's Weekend, both the Father's Friday Fire and Father's Saturday Golf were cancelled, and K spent lots of time with our son. On Saturday afternoon they shovelled mulch and even planted the annuals I'd bought for my hanging basket, while I cleaned up our basement storage room. Win-win! I missed being with them but my heart smiled when I caught a glimpse of them working on the basket together. Now I am happily reminded of them both whenever I glance up at this:

 

Gym test

I did another full-body workout today. This one brought to me by my cousin-in-law M, whose own inspiring post quoting my words got me out the door. This morning I did not want to go to the gym. At all.
I haven't been sleeping well. Little J hasn't been sleeping well. I think there must be a full moon. And we're closing in on the longest day of the year. I am grateful that I don't live any farther north -- here in the-land-of-the-10-p.m.-sun is far enough.
I woke up feeling like hell and all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and nap as soon as possible.
However, I remembered these words, quoted by M: "I went into the gym feeling exhausted and I left feeling great." Apparently I wrote these words myself, but I wouldn't remember or believe it if it weren't for M's post. (Thanks!) So this morning, when all I wanted to do was nap, I dragged my ass to the gym. I picked up my sports bra, then my regular bra, couldn't decide. I put on my jeans, and then, reluctantly, stepped out of them and into my Lulu's. In the car, I drove past the gym, but then pulled a U-turn and parked right in front.
I resolved to test the gym. If the gym could make me feel better today, then it should work any day.
I sweated. I increased my cardio by ten minutes (so I could watch the HDTV reveal!). I did my stregth-training as efficiently as possible. I marvelled at the guy doing insane sprints, the guy bench-pressing 140 lbs., and the elderly ladies.
And then I stepped out into the cool fresh misty air outside and breathed. Nothing like a workout to make me appreciate a cool day in June!
Do I feel great? No, not quite.
But I do feel a million times better than I did this morning.
And now that I've had my tea and some blueberries and yogurt, I even feel good!
So, yes, gym, you passed the test!

Growing, growing, growing

No, this is not about my garden, although that is growing too and actually deserves a post with pictures -- as soon as I can get the latest plants into the ground and weed AGAIN and so on... Or just learn to love its imperfection.

After all, I adore my little boy and he is obviously a work in progress -- aren't we all! He is the one who is growing, growing, growing. He, however, is perfect at every stage. It's miraculous and wonderful that babies are pure perfection when they are born, and then they get better and better! I suppose at some stage they become teenagers, and rumour has it that teens are less than perfect, but I'm pretty sure that my little one will continue to glow with pure love in my eyes forever.

If we could all love ourselves with the pure love that parents feel for their children, what might happen?

All of which makes me re-think perfection. I say and feel that my son is perfect even though, by most definitions, he is not. How often have I said that, "we are all imperfect"? I truly believe that, and I mean it in a positive, accepting way. Somehow, my child, despite the behaviours I try to correct (please stop whining, wash your hands, and PLEASE don't head-butt me again!), remains perfect in my eyes. I suppose that is love. It is also the recognition that we are perfect just as we are, despite all of our "imperfections". I'm suffering from a linguistic shortcoming here. I falter trying to find a synonym for perfect that embraces our inherent imperfection... We are all imperfect but we are all...Whole? Radiant? Good enough? Perfect?! ...I need some help expressing this concept!

Happy Father's Weekend

Just received the following email from my dear husband ("DH"), with the catchy subject-line "FFF":

"HI Angel, just a heads up that Frank may have a Father’s Day Friday Fire, although just like golf tomorrow, the chances are slim that it will happen as it may rain tonight. I will be bringing home 2 frozen steaks tonight maybe for supper tomorrow."

It's official. Father's Day has been repealed and replaced with Father's Weekend, so as to accommodate Father's Friday Fire and Father's Saturday Golf. These are not father-son activities. The fire gets underway immediately after bedtime, in that narrow window between the initial tuck-in and the first request for another story/drink/hug/Kleenex/monster removal. At three years of age, our dear son is not yet welcome on the golf course, a fact which I will attempt to explain, repeatedly, throughout DH's 6 hour round on Saturday. The celebration of DH's own father will take place on Sunday, the day formerly known as Father's Day. My dad lives far away and gets a phone call, which is a shame because he would enjoy the FFF and FSG if he were here and could talk his way in. Mothers need not apply.

But hey, I'm looking forward to those frozen steaks.  

Happy Father's Weekend

p.s. For the record DH is an awesome dad and deserves all the R&R he can grab. 

Dear Fitness Diary

Went to the gym this morning. All novelty has worn off. Thinking about myself becoming stronger is my sole motivation. Which is not bad motivation.
Today I'm grateful for the person who discovered that strength-training twice a week is almost as effective as three times a week. I read that in Shape magazine almost twenty years ago. If that study has been disproven, I don't think I want to know about it.
They play the worst music at the gym. I'm thinking about audio books to make the time pass. Suggestions?
Now to clean my house. At least I get to pick my own music. :-)

Fudge

No, it's not a recipe, although it sounds yummy.
I stopped paying attention to what I ate and I gained weight. F*#%. I'm still a pound less than when I started to watch my diet about six weeks ago, but practically speaking that is zero progress. My too-tight summer clothes are still too-tight, and now it is summer.
Time to get serious. Back to myfitnesspal.com. This super-handy little app helped me lose about 4 pounds in a month without deprivation, so hopefully it can help me do it again, but better! Bring on the deprivation! ;-)
I am still working out at the gym. The post-workout high is never as good as the first time, but yes, it does feel good. Next step: outdoor workouts.

My sentiments exactly.

J says a lot of awesome things. Usually I'm so busy enjoying the moment that I forget to write them down. This one isn't "awesome" (which is probably why I remember it) but it made me laugh.

"Mama!"
"Yeah."
"There's something wrong with the house!"
"What's that?"
"The freezer is coming out of the floor!"

That would be the air-conditioning.

"It's happening all over the house!!!"