Lists

Something that gives me a feeling of accomplishment is to write out a long list of tasks, then cross each one off as they are completed.

I'm a list writer partly out of vanity, but mostly out of necessity.  A lot of people also need to write list of priorities to take care of, reminders, how-to's, routines, schedules, grocery lists.  It is difficult for me to think about what I need to do next unless I had previously taken time to organize my thoughts in the form of a list.  Writing lists saves time because I won't have to sit and wonder what else needs to be done, now that I'm done doing what I was doing.  Just look at the list, and be glad that the next hour will be purposeful.

Without practicing this very important skill, my life would be much less disciplined.  I would probably waif through the day, and thereby life, without accomplishing much.  I'd forget to do important things that most people don't need to be reminded of, such as depositing checks or showering.  My life, with the assistance of lists, is much more productive and reliable.

Closely related to my simpleminded need for prompts and reminders is that giddy feeling of self-congratulation on those rare days when Everything on the list gets crossed off.  Those are the days when I leave the list out on the dining table, in all it's glory, to be seen by myself, visitors, and especially Ryan.  I am so proud to present him with the evidence of my efforts on those days, as if coming home to a clean house and a clean Reanna aren't enough real evidence.

I don't think I'm suffering from trying to earn his approval or affection as much as I want him to share my pride and joy of success.  Admittedly, I am simpleminded when it comes to certain things, so there's a chance I might be fooling myself.

I am thankful though, that the list is my tool, and not my master.  I don't feel bound to it, though it is nice to justify relaxing or having fun if most of the daily list has been crossed off.

When Ryan and I were dating, my roommate Kara asked him to help me figure out what to do with myself. His suggestion was something like, "Maybe she can write a little list to help her stay focused." In turn, her response was like, "No, you don't understand. All she does is write lists. Help her figure out what to DO!"  I'm pretty good at making to-do lists, but having vision is a weakness of mine.

I feel okay with knowing that my part in life is to be a good supporter for vision casters.  I take wind of vision and do whatever I can to make it happen by handling and crossing off the details.

End of Summer

It's the last day of the summer.

It's my last day of summer.

It's my last day of summer break.  I'll be going back to work tomorrow at the school, leaving behind my last ever extended "vacation."  Pretty much from this point forward I will be "working" until the day my last child moves out for college (or gets the boot).

So what did I do with my last summer of freedom?  Pretty much the same thing I did all throughout grade school during the summers, when my parents went off to work, and my sister went over to her friend's house.  I stayed at home and chilled with the dog.

Of course, since my mom wasn't coming home to cook and clean, I spent my days doing the laundry and dishes.  I kind of exercised a little.  I made a real effort to make dinner most nights.  And I even got a little summer job, if teaching summer school counts.  I even got paid little-summer-job wages too!  The tax rate was like 35% for summer school wages, since they are considered as "overtime" hours.  Hopefully we'll see that money on our income tax return for 2012.

Honestly though, I am glad to have done summer school, and the reasons are three-fold.  First, it was good for me to have a reason to get up, get dressed, and be productive during those 6 weeks.  My days at home after summer school have been quite a bit lazier and less impressive.  Second, as an educator, I truly am glad to have spent that time helping my class of high school girls earn some much needed credits through a credit recovery program.  It feels good to say that I gave it my best for as long as I could.  Third, I did make a little bit of money, which is nice.  Except that it was pretty much already spent before I even got my final paycheck.

A few weeks ago, I was on the phone with one of my teacher friends, and she asked what I did with my summer school money.  I was slightly relieved that she interrupted to tell what she had done with her money, and that I didn't get a chance to say.  At the moment, I was still a little resentful that my money would be spent on vacation and medical bills.  Neither of which were mine.  That day of our phone call was actually the first day Ryan was back at work after having his first surgery to repair a dislocated collar bone sustained from a biking accident while on vacation in Colorado during the last week of summer school.

More on that later.  That story will probably come in installments.

So the second half of my summer was mostly spent helping Ryan get better from his injury and the resulting 2 surgeries.  There have been several days, though, that he's been able to be at work.  For those days, I've made sure to catch up on important things like researching cloth diapers, scrubbing the bathtubs, figuring out why the dryer won't dry, and spending quality time with Jack.

And napping.  I've tried to nap as much as possible.  I love my naps.  I will miss my naps.

So now, at 3 days from being 8 months pregnant, I'm gearing up for what's probably one last Fall at the school - even though the real Fall season won't begin until the baby is born.  And even though summer break is over, summer and 10 thousand degree heat is not over yet.

72 days

When Ryan and I sat down for breakfast this morning, I checked my little pregnancy app on my phone.  It said "72 days to go!"  It seems like it was only a little while ago that we were 200+ days to go.  And I thought it was only recently that we broke double digits.

I said to him that its crazy how "one day, there's not a person, then the next day, here's a person!  Are you ready to be responsible for the life of a whole other person?"  Am I?

So then I did the natural thing and spent the past 2 hours looking up maternity and newborn photo ideas online.  Nevermind what all the books and Parenting Magazine says... Nothing says "awesome parents" quite like a collection of beautiful maternity and newborn photos.

During my research, I viewed a number of professional websites and took a look at their galleries.  Everybody had bridal, wedding, family, babies.  There was a rare gem that stood out to me on a site or two: Trash the Dress.  I was reminded of it from when a friend at Bradley class mentioned it.  Its a relatively new phenomenon where young brides realize that they will never wear this fancy wedding dress again, so why not go a little crazy with it?    I hadn't seen what all the big deal what about, so I browsed through a few Trash the Dress galleries.  And woah, holy crap!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/eddisrocknroll/7580542546/in/pool-trashthedress/

This is my new motivation to get back into wedding-day shape after pregnancy!  I want to stand in a waterfall with a silk bouquet, in my wedding dress!  I want to float the river in my wedding dress.  I want to get into a mud fight in my wedding dress.  I want to run the Warrior Dash in my wedding dress.  I want to go surfing in my wedding dress.  I want to have a watermelon eating contest in my wedding dress.  I want to play paint ball in my wedding dress.  I want to be sloppy making a cake in my wedding dress.  And I want it all on film.

What is it with our obsession with creative and aesthetically overwhelming photos?  I like art and creating art.  Ironically, I'm not very crafty, so the art I make is not so top notch.  But I feel like I make up for that by appreciating other people's artsy qualities and work more than necessary.  It is a respectable talent.  So I find myself wanting awesome photos of my family, so that friends and strangers alike might be distracted from real life and have something to look at and think awesome things about us.

Someday I'll start something I might finish

Between the gluten free pretzels and pinch cup of Nutela in front of me, I'm trying to find the will to write something.

I'm starting over with trying to write a blog.  The original "Keep In Touch" part 1 fizzled out a few years ago, so now I will try a new start with a less original part 2.  Once again I've given in to the notion that I'd like to be a writer.  Someone who can say stuff that other's think is important or interesting, or entertaining, or inspiring.  But still stay at a safe distance if people think that what I said is stupid.

The ideas are there, but effort + motivation is a tricky thing to come by.  For me, at least.  I keep a to-do list on most days, and find a sense of satisfaction by crossing out tasks I've accomplished.  But I'm still too embarrassed to put "blog" on it.  Partly because I don't like the word, but haven't come up with a more pleasing alternative, and mostly because I don't want to face the shame of not scraping together 30 minutes to externally process an idea in writing, though I regularly waste more than that with my cell phone game.

I'd like to think that I could write short stories or memoires of my own, and those of others.  I also think I could write commentaries on observations of life and experiences.  Some day I'll figure out how to use the semi-fancy camera we just got, and show real life images of what I'm talking about.

So it leads me to wonder why do people blog?  Why do I want to do it?  Some are experts in their fields and have a lot to enlighten us with, for example mommies, world travelers, and crafty people.  Some people are really gifted entertainers who humor us with their stories and cartoons.  I figure for most people, though, having a blog is kind of like a public diary/soapbox where they can say what they want to say and hope someone else out there thinks that it matters.  That's why I want to write.  I don't know for sure if what I have to say matters, but I want to matter.  And I want to matter to myself, which in part is achieved just by having a blog and being consistent with it.

There are a few things here and there that I feel kind of proud of, but nothing super creative.  I don't make fancy cakes and cupcakes like my sister, or paint, or crochet, or scrapbook like my friends do.  This is the creative thing that I want to do, that matters to me.