Is procrastination an art or a science? Is it our way of percolating an idea, or have we trained ourselves to put all the TO DO's on the back burner in favor of the less productive To Not Do' s? Does writing about not writing make me a better writer?
I have no idea.
But my kids FINALLY left the house a good 90 minutes ago. They have been here FOREVER...ok, they had a snowday on Friday (again) and now it is Monday and I spent a lot of time with them this weekend. But we all need a break from eachother. And I have some deadlines looming this week. I *can* work when they are home, it's just not always that great when I do. (See: Blog That Got Zero Comments)
So the sun is out, the house is empty and silent and I have a long list of things I wanted to accomplish today. Some are more pleasant tasks than others, and some- if I would just get going on them, I actually will enjoy a great deal.:
*Change all the sheets and wash them, fold them and put them away.
*Write a column about what Noah is learning in Kindergarten
* Continue to research the woman who Beckett and I will be profiling when we sit down in the not-so- soundproof-room-with-a-microphone on Friday. (by "research", I mean that today I have to finish watching a movie about this woman, and read some kiddie books,one grown-up book with really tiny font, and search for google images of her because I have only seen a couple repeated and surely, someone else has painted her portrait or something.)
*Wash the wood floors that got all crapped up this weekend.
*Call my mother and tell her that the gift card she gave me to Amazon DID work, I had just used up more of my previous balance than I thought. Or rather, Bekah had used up more of my previous balance than I thought.
*Revise the 25 pages of my WIP that my critique partner had taken time from her own procras..er, busy schedule to make comments about last week...and I shoved them into a folder then where they still reside.
*Change a tampon
So you see, I have A LOT to do. Here is what I have done in the last, now 2 hours:
*Drank two cups of coffee (which is actually a decent pace, if I do say so myself)
*Clean out the spinach artichoke dip that splashed and crusted all over the microwave at lunch yesterday and someone (me) neglected to clean until today.
*Stripped the beds,and heap all the sheets in the hallway
*Washed, but not dried, one load of laundry.
*Updated twitter
*Whined to SEVERAL people on facebook about how much I have to do and how lovely and quiet it is here today
*Searched for my dvd of Pride and Prejudice because my friend Mari gushed about Colin Firth (I can't find it!! I'm FREAKING OUT HERE!)
*Read as many accounts of the Academy Awards as I could find.
Uh, yeah. That's it.
Oh, right. I did write this. Sure, technically it wasn't on my list, but it's an accomplishment and I am a modern parent, and don't modern parents thrive on celebrating any accomplishment?
But now- since I have added writing this to my already jam packed day- I can print out as an official to-do list. And link it to my mom so I don't have to call her (Not that I don't like talking to my mom, I do...really Mom..one of the highlights of my day!)
Wow, that list really is getting whittled down. I'm like a Super Do-er. I should go pro.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friday, February 18, 2011
It's not that hard
When my children were small, they would stand next to me and look up.
" Mommy, you are so tall! Am I going to be as tall as you?"
I would smile the smile of someone who knows a secret, "Oh, yes, probably. It's not that hard."
From their three foot perch they would would stare at me and hug my legs.
" Oh Mommy! You're silly!"
No, I'm short. They just didn't know that. Checking in at a solid 5'2" (and why, yes, my eyes ARE blue!) I really never thought of my height much. Most people are taller than I am-- 3" or a foot, it's all the same. Taller. We get used to the angle that we are looking at things. It's, simply, the way we view the world. It's not different, it just is.
I never coveted height. Why would I? Sometimes I wear heels, but not to be taller, I like how they look. I don't dress to elongate my legs. Really? They are only 29", elongation would be a farce extraordinaire.
No, I never really wanted to be taller. I have step stool, and still have enough spring in my legs to hop up on a kitchen counter to get a bowl from the top cabinet. When I was dating height was never an issue, my husband is about 6', but I think of us as equals.
This is how I was made, and - as I tell my kids- God does not make mistakes.I like what He made. Low center of gravity, able to hide in a crowd of kids-- if anyone has a problem with my height, it's not me.
Sometimes taller people have looked down at me...hey, not always in a totally negative way, I'm talking directionally. But sure, sometimes they would would look down at me and smile. Like I was some cute child playing dress up. I can assure you, I speak tall. No one of any substance would think I was a child for very long. I have to assume that they soon looked at me as I did at them: a person.
Yes, for most of my life I have not thought about my height much. Until a few months ago. When I realized that Luke was no longer looking up at me, he was looking straight across at me. And then, more recently, I looked at him like I look at most people: up.
My 12 year old is now taller than me. But here is the weird thing, he has yet to say anything about it. Not one "neener" or a laugh. Even today, when I told him to go back-to-back with me he didn't say "Hey, Shortie", or make a mini-golf joke. He just did it.
Did I really set an example for treating people? I don't know. Probably not. Most likely this is a parental respect issue. But I can tell you this: when I look up at my smiling faced son, I know that his getting taller than me wasn't hard for him. But for me? The mom who will forevermore have the 3 foot version of him in my memory, and knows that each inch he gains moves him closer to being grown and on his own-- it's very hard, indeed.
" Mommy, you are so tall! Am I going to be as tall as you?"
I would smile the smile of someone who knows a secret, "Oh, yes, probably. It's not that hard."
From their three foot perch they would would stare at me and hug my legs.
" Oh Mommy! You're silly!"
No, I'm short. They just didn't know that. Checking in at a solid 5'2" (and why, yes, my eyes ARE blue!) I really never thought of my height much. Most people are taller than I am-- 3" or a foot, it's all the same. Taller. We get used to the angle that we are looking at things. It's, simply, the way we view the world. It's not different, it just is.
I never coveted height. Why would I? Sometimes I wear heels, but not to be taller, I like how they look. I don't dress to elongate my legs. Really? They are only 29", elongation would be a farce extraordinaire.
No, I never really wanted to be taller. I have step stool, and still have enough spring in my legs to hop up on a kitchen counter to get a bowl from the top cabinet. When I was dating height was never an issue, my husband is about 6', but I think of us as equals.
This is how I was made, and - as I tell my kids- God does not make mistakes.I like what He made. Low center of gravity, able to hide in a crowd of kids-- if anyone has a problem with my height, it's not me.
Sometimes taller people have looked down at me...hey, not always in a totally negative way, I'm talking directionally. But sure, sometimes they would would look down at me and smile. Like I was some cute child playing dress up. I can assure you, I speak tall. No one of any substance would think I was a child for very long. I have to assume that they soon looked at me as I did at them: a person.
Yes, for most of my life I have not thought about my height much. Until a few months ago. When I realized that Luke was no longer looking up at me, he was looking straight across at me. And then, more recently, I looked at him like I look at most people: up.
My 12 year old is now taller than me. But here is the weird thing, he has yet to say anything about it. Not one "neener" or a laugh. Even today, when I told him to go back-to-back with me he didn't say "Hey, Shortie", or make a mini-golf joke. He just did it.
Did I really set an example for treating people? I don't know. Probably not. Most likely this is a parental respect issue. But I can tell you this: when I look up at my smiling faced son, I know that his getting taller than me wasn't hard for him. But for me? The mom who will forevermore have the 3 foot version of him in my memory, and knows that each inch he gains moves him closer to being grown and on his own-- it's very hard, indeed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)