If you read my last post, you knew to expect this one. If there's one thing I'm not, it's unpredictable. I'm a very predictable person. So... here I am, as expected, telling you about my working out.
So, also as expected, I have some goals for my working out (and my eating habits, but I'm not really going to address that here... ooooohhh... could that be another post? Will writing 4 times truly be that easy? Or will something happen that acts as a deterrent with which I must deal shrewdly before I can finally emerge the victor? Stay tuned!).
Anyway...
Goal 1 - workout 6 days a week. Since it's summer, this is actually pretty easy to accomplish because we have few obligations. So, I want to take advantage of this now, seeing as how I don't really know what the school year will be like with all the kids gone. If you don't know what I'm talking about then I have just one thing to say... did you even read my last post?
Goal 2 - lose belly fat and outer thigh fat. I'm being realistic here. I've never had thin inner thighs, and I've realized that I never will. So, why even bother?
Goal 3 - keep a well-balanced workout routine... meaning that I need to have muscle work (does anyone else always pronounce "muscle" in a Popeye voice, or is that just me?), cardio, and stretching incorporated.
So here's my plan for the summer:
I found this great channel on YouTube called "XHit Daily" and they post a new video daily. Looks like I'm not the only predictable one. So, I just do whatever video they post for the day. That way, I get lots of variety, but if I don't like the video I never have to do it again, which is pretty huge for me. I have spent the last 2 years doing a video series of 12 videos that rotate through a calendar, and I liked 8 of them, but for some reason, it was impossible for me to skip the ones that I didn't like. I felt like I needed to do them because they must be in the program for a reason.
After my XHit video (which can range anywhere from 7-25 minutes, also a good thing for me), I find an ab routine on YouTube. I do abs every day because they are important and they can handle it, unlike some other muscles that need a break in between workings.
Then, I do a stretch video. I just find a random one on YouTube. No big deal. I have a few that I've decided I like more than others, but I also like to mix it up to avoid boredom. Every so often, I put on Pandora and stretch on my own, but as I'm not a very motivated person, I can only do with every so often. I need that encouragement from a person on a screen who I have never and will never meet. I don't want to let them down by not following along. My main goal for stretching is to be healthy and eliminate pain, but I will also admit that I want to do this because I think it is hot.
(If you can't get enough of hearing about my fitness, might I direct you to this previous post about workout videos? It appears I have a very limited repertoire of subject matter.)
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Thursday, May 29, 2014
In For the Night
Aaahhhhhh.... It's 6:19pm, and I'm in my pajamas because I, my friends, am in for the night. To me, there are a few feelings in the world that I relish... a few moments that encapsulate the beauty of living. The sense of awe (and conversely, humility) that comes with thunderstorms, the unity found in the arms of my husband around me when I know I just can't do this alone, and the peace of slipping my PJs on while it is still light outside because I know I don't have to leave the house again.
I guess not everyone functions like I do. There are those who jump at the chance for any and all social activity. There are people who would even change out of pajamas to go out and partake in a spontaneous invitation. But not me... I find so much satisfaction in the knowledge that I am done for the day. I'm not sure what it says about me, honestly.
It doesn't say that I'm anti-social. I actually like people quite a bit. It's just that it takes a lot of energy to interact with them... even with my good friends who I would actually put clothes back on for if they showed up in town and wanted to hang out. More likely, though, they would understand that I don't really want to put clothes on, and they would have just as good a time drinking decaf in my living room.
I think it's impossible to be anti-social* while also being a stay-at-home mom. I don't think a woman who was truly did enjoy people could handle it. If I were anti-social, I would definitely go seek work in some factory or geek center where I could hole up in my cubicle and write code all day. Assuming that becoming anti-social means that loud, repetitive noise would stop bothering and/or looking at a screen all day would stop giving me headaches. Because those are both really good reasons to not take that kind of job.
You know what, though? I'm not into really figuring out what my habits say about me tonight. I'm more concerned with enjoying a little down time after a really busy (albeit fun) week. The kids and I have knocked this summer thing out of the park this week, which may just mean I've set up an impossible standard for myself, but I'm going to pretend that it is a forecasting that this summer will be awesome!
*I'm not talking about the personality disorder. I really don't know much about that. If you do, good on you! Please keep your information to yourself. I'm using the term in the vernacular. Gimme a break!
I guess not everyone functions like I do. There are those who jump at the chance for any and all social activity. There are people who would even change out of pajamas to go out and partake in a spontaneous invitation. But not me... I find so much satisfaction in the knowledge that I am done for the day. I'm not sure what it says about me, honestly.
It doesn't say that I'm anti-social. I actually like people quite a bit. It's just that it takes a lot of energy to interact with them... even with my good friends who I would actually put clothes back on for if they showed up in town and wanted to hang out. More likely, though, they would understand that I don't really want to put clothes on, and they would have just as good a time drinking decaf in my living room.
I think it's impossible to be anti-social* while also being a stay-at-home mom. I don't think a woman who was truly did enjoy people could handle it. If I were anti-social, I would definitely go seek work in some factory or geek center where I could hole up in my cubicle and write code all day. Assuming that becoming anti-social means that loud, repetitive noise would stop bothering and/or looking at a screen all day would stop giving me headaches. Because those are both really good reasons to not take that kind of job.
You know what, though? I'm not into really figuring out what my habits say about me tonight. I'm more concerned with enjoying a little down time after a really busy (albeit fun) week. The kids and I have knocked this summer thing out of the park this week, which may just mean I've set up an impossible standard for myself, but I'm going to pretend that it is a forecasting that this summer will be awesome!
*I'm not talking about the personality disorder. I really don't know much about that. If you do, good on you! Please keep your information to yourself. I'm using the term in the vernacular. Gimme a break!
Summertime - When the living's goal-oriented
Okay... who am I kidding? My life is always goal-oriented. It's not just summer. Before you get impressed by my goal setting ninja capabilities, you should know that anyone who truly knows me (as in, you know... i exist irl, and not just as a virtual presence), knows two things about me:
1. I use goals as a motivation because I am incredibly lazy
and
2. I rarely meet my goals.
BUT... I get a whole lot further along with goals that I would without them, and honestly (in case any future employers are reading this) I can be a really productive person when 2 very simple stipulations are added, which are as follows:
1. There is a big enough reward
or
2. I have to.
Quick example... getting paid to write is a good reward, in general. Getting paid $20 for full rights to 750 words, however, is not a good reward. True story. Someone actually offered this to me for some pretty good words, if I do say so myself. But if the price is right, I will say "yes," and once I make a commitment to someone else, I get a very horrible feeling about letting that person down. So, that is also a very good motivator.
So, let's add "#3. Feeling obligated to someone else" as the 3rd way I am productive.
Another quick example, back at #2... I have to eat to live. I do not like preparing food. Nor do I like the task of sitting and eating food. People have made fun of me for this, but it's just how I am. I can't help it. Anyway, as we all know by now, it is essential to eat if I want to live. At this point in my life (and hopefully, from here on out) I do have a lot to live for and I value life pretty strongly. So, this is something that can make me much more productive on the making food front. I have to.
Anyway... not really the point. Just the disclaimer because I do intend to attempt to secure some writing jobs, and I'm not foolish enough to think in this day and age that I can just put something out there on the interwebs without a potential employer looking at it. Oh, the glories of online journaling!
Whatever.
Here are my goals for the summer:
1. Write on here 4 times (1 down, 3 to go). I started small because, let's face it... I don't keep up with this here thing very much. Mainly because every time I write, I end up getting deep and it's just not good blog fodder. So, I'm going to try to remember why I like blogging (mainly because it's fun to be sarcastic and random. Did I just say random? Am I 14?), and then I will proceed to do that.
2. Exercise Monday through Saturday. I'm on day 4 of this, and it's going quite well. My second blog post will most likely be a run-down of my exercising, so stay tuned for that amazingness!
3. Be a fun person. Easier said than done for a melancholy like me, but again I'm on day 4 of this with only one grump session so far! w00t, w00t! (wow... see how fun I am? I just said w00t... twice! And I have used a lot of exclamation marks already in this post! Guys! This is seriously working! Go, goals!)
4. Enjoy my kids for these last days that I have them. Okay... while all of these goals are real, this is where I turn deep and serious. Queue the slow, dramatic music. I have homeschooled for 8 years. That's a full 1/3 of my life. (okay, it's a 1/4 of my life.... okay! a year over 1/5... shut up!) Point is that it's a long time, and now my kiddos are all going to school next year. It's a long story about how that happened, but it's happened, and it's happening... in just over 2 months. I will have no children in the home from 8-2:30. I kind of feel like Rapunzel when she first escapes from the tower. I mean, this will either be the best thing ever for our family or my kids will end up seriously screwed up for life, right? But for real, I will miss them, and I want to enjoy our time together.
Well, four seems like a do-able number. If I get too crazy, I might overdo it and end up just giving up. Better stop here.
1. I use goals as a motivation because I am incredibly lazy
and
2. I rarely meet my goals.
BUT... I get a whole lot further along with goals that I would without them, and honestly (in case any future employers are reading this) I can be a really productive person when 2 very simple stipulations are added, which are as follows:
1. There is a big enough reward
or
2. I have to.
Quick example... getting paid to write is a good reward, in general. Getting paid $20 for full rights to 750 words, however, is not a good reward. True story. Someone actually offered this to me for some pretty good words, if I do say so myself. But if the price is right, I will say "yes," and once I make a commitment to someone else, I get a very horrible feeling about letting that person down. So, that is also a very good motivator.
So, let's add "#3. Feeling obligated to someone else" as the 3rd way I am productive.
Another quick example, back at #2... I have to eat to live. I do not like preparing food. Nor do I like the task of sitting and eating food. People have made fun of me for this, but it's just how I am. I can't help it. Anyway, as we all know by now, it is essential to eat if I want to live. At this point in my life (and hopefully, from here on out) I do have a lot to live for and I value life pretty strongly. So, this is something that can make me much more productive on the making food front. I have to.
Anyway... not really the point. Just the disclaimer because I do intend to attempt to secure some writing jobs, and I'm not foolish enough to think in this day and age that I can just put something out there on the interwebs without a potential employer looking at it. Oh, the glories of online journaling!
Whatever.
Here are my goals for the summer:
1. Write on here 4 times (1 down, 3 to go). I started small because, let's face it... I don't keep up with this here thing very much. Mainly because every time I write, I end up getting deep and it's just not good blog fodder. So, I'm going to try to remember why I like blogging (mainly because it's fun to be sarcastic and random. Did I just say random? Am I 14?), and then I will proceed to do that.
2. Exercise Monday through Saturday. I'm on day 4 of this, and it's going quite well. My second blog post will most likely be a run-down of my exercising, so stay tuned for that amazingness!
3. Be a fun person. Easier said than done for a melancholy like me, but again I'm on day 4 of this with only one grump session so far! w00t, w00t! (wow... see how fun I am? I just said w00t... twice! And I have used a lot of exclamation marks already in this post! Guys! This is seriously working! Go, goals!)
4. Enjoy my kids for these last days that I have them. Okay... while all of these goals are real, this is where I turn deep and serious. Queue the slow, dramatic music. I have homeschooled for 8 years. That's a full 1/3 of my life. (okay, it's a 1/4 of my life.... okay! a year over 1/5... shut up!) Point is that it's a long time, and now my kiddos are all going to school next year. It's a long story about how that happened, but it's happened, and it's happening... in just over 2 months. I will have no children in the home from 8-2:30. I kind of feel like Rapunzel when she first escapes from the tower. I mean, this will either be the best thing ever for our family or my kids will end up seriously screwed up for life, right? But for real, I will miss them, and I want to enjoy our time together.
Well, four seems like a do-able number. If I get too crazy, I might overdo it and end up just giving up. Better stop here.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
How to Make Me Smile with Your Words on Adoption
Now, let me start by saying that I might just be overly sensitive. And in fact, I'm not even really hot and bothered, just consistently annoyed. But it rubs me the wrong way that every article or column I've seen about the Dylan Farrow/Woody Allen debacle feels the need to refer to them as "adoptive daughter" and "adoptive father."
I can't help but wonder how in the world this is relevant to the story.
Is it not quite so disgusting that he molested her (assuming it is true... an assumption that I am not making, by the way. I'm staying out of that aspect.) because she doesn't have his biological material in her composition?
Or is it that much worse because how in the world can people who adopt a child then have drama in their home especially surrounding said child?
To me, there just isn't a purpose for pointing out that she was adopted by him. Or that he is not the biological father. It's incredibly serious accusations that, if true, are of an utmost disgusting nature no matter what the legal or biological relationship between an adult and a 7-year-old child.
On another front, I've seen a lot of seemingly mean-spirited outcry about some public misspeaking when talking about the trans community. One was directed at Piers Morgan. Another at Rebel Wilson. Both of them, if we stop to hear their story seemed to think they were actually furthering the cause of trans acceptance, but neither of them were aware of the preferred language of the group they were talking about. It's a matter of ignorance, but not hatred. So, for involved parties to then open fire through twitter and the Huffington Post blog seems a little less than generous.
I'm pointing this out to say that this blog post is not written out of anger or an assumption that people are trying to offend, but only because I believe that education is important and is a strong partner with love as being the answer to so many problems. (I hope that wasn't too convoluted of a reference to Blessid Union of Souls, because really any time you can reference them, don't you think you should!)
Without further ado, here are some phrases you can incorporate into your mindset and vernacular, if you so desire to be inclusive of families who have adopted. I am not assuming you care to be inclusive. I'm just saying if you care to be inclusive.
1. "was adopted" not "is adopted"
According to the law, my son is my son with every legal benefit of my biological children. He is a full member of the family and is different in no way than anyone else with only one exception - that the legal bond is actually stronger than the one I have with the kids who have my DNA. That aside, he is completely the same from a legal perspective. My name is on his birth certificate and we got to choose his name.
The thing I'm trying to say here is that his adoption was an event, not a status or an identity. We have a shared family identity and he relates strongly to it. To continually refer to him as my "adopted son" or to tell him, "You are adopted," keeps him on the outside. There are enough other factors that we need to overcome that this language is something we try to avoid because we want him to know that we love him just as much as our daughters (one of whom was also adopted by Billy).
This one could seem a little nitpicky. After all, Billy and I were married at a specific point in time with a particular legal proceeding. But we still talk about ourselves as "being married." So, if this were the only thing that people say about children who were adopted, then I would let it slide, but they also throw in this next gem quite a lot.
2. "birth mother" not "real mom"
I can't tell you the number of people who ask me if I know anything about my son's "real mom." I'm a snarky little daughter-of-a-gun, so of course, I respond with, "I'm his real mom."
Let's go back to the legal information again. Billy was married before. There were legal things that went along with that. They had rights to each other's belongings and shared a cell plan. Then they got divorced, and he married me. Can you imagine if people asked us if we knew anything that's going on with his "real" wife???? WTF? I'm his real wife! Someone else used to be, yes. But she chose to terminate her rights to that title, just as a mother chose to terminate her rights to her child.
Some mothers choose to do so because they love their children and want a better home. Some choose to do so through selfish and negligent actions. But they all chose to birth their children, and for that we are more grateful to these women than we could ever explain. No matter how selfish a woman may have been after the birth of her child; no matter how many unwise choices she made, she at least made the choice to let her child live. She at least gave one gift. So, we want to honor these women. We don't want to call them ex-moms, as if they no longer hold a meaningful place in our hearts and lives. We call them "birth moms" because they chose to birth their children, instead of kill them.
Even still, I am the mom now (honestly, I would never actually call myself the "real mom" over the birth mom except in a sarcastic response). I am the woman who listens to this child talk non-stop day-in, day-out. I'm the woman who makes up chants to help him learn to spell his name. I'm the one who potty trained him. I'm the one who takes him to school. I'm the one that reads to him and bathes him. And I'm the one that gets to hear his "I love you"s. I'm his mom. And it's as real as it gets.
3. "my kids" not "my own kids"
I have many well-intentioned friends say this. They are often people who are thinking about adopting children in the future. So, I know that they are sympathetic to the cause, but it is surprising to me that this distinction is made.
It usually comes in the form of, "Well, we might adopt, but we want to have our own kids first." I get the sentiment behind it, although I will admit I don't really "get" it. I don't understand the fascination with passing along one's biological information in order to create a whole new being. I do know that it's an amazing thing to have a child grow in you, but I rarely think much of it on a daily basis. It's been years since that happened to me, and the only time it comes up is when a child asks where babies come from.
Again, this is a phrase that is used that segregates the family. There are the "biological children" and the "adopted children." The message is that they are not the same in the eyes of the speaker. But this is hurtful (even when it's not intended to be) because families who have adopted will go through great pains to love and acclimate a child into their family. Part of that often means being willing to change their family culture to accommodate the new child. Our family is not the same as it was before our son came to us. He has changed to fit into our family patterns, but our family patterns have changed to fit with him, as well. He is as much my own child and as much as part of this family as anyone.
Rule of thumb: Think about the person as a full person and the family as a whole family.
When you need to speak about the adoption (which, honestly, does probably not need to happen every time a conversation with or about the family is started), please remember that we are people first and a family first. The adoption is secondary.
This also, as a side note, goes for other ideas like disabilities. People first. Disabilities second.
"Children in foster care" not "Foster child"
"Baby with down's syndrome" not "Down's syndrome baby"
You get the idea....
I can't help but wonder how in the world this is relevant to the story.
Is it not quite so disgusting that he molested her (assuming it is true... an assumption that I am not making, by the way. I'm staying out of that aspect.) because she doesn't have his biological material in her composition?
Or is it that much worse because how in the world can people who adopt a child then have drama in their home especially surrounding said child?
To me, there just isn't a purpose for pointing out that she was adopted by him. Or that he is not the biological father. It's incredibly serious accusations that, if true, are of an utmost disgusting nature no matter what the legal or biological relationship between an adult and a 7-year-old child.
On another front, I've seen a lot of seemingly mean-spirited outcry about some public misspeaking when talking about the trans community. One was directed at Piers Morgan. Another at Rebel Wilson. Both of them, if we stop to hear their story seemed to think they were actually furthering the cause of trans acceptance, but neither of them were aware of the preferred language of the group they were talking about. It's a matter of ignorance, but not hatred. So, for involved parties to then open fire through twitter and the Huffington Post blog seems a little less than generous.
I'm pointing this out to say that this blog post is not written out of anger or an assumption that people are trying to offend, but only because I believe that education is important and is a strong partner with love as being the answer to so many problems. (I hope that wasn't too convoluted of a reference to Blessid Union of Souls, because really any time you can reference them, don't you think you should!)
Without further ado, here are some phrases you can incorporate into your mindset and vernacular, if you so desire to be inclusive of families who have adopted. I am not assuming you care to be inclusive. I'm just saying if you care to be inclusive.
1. "was adopted" not "is adopted"
According to the law, my son is my son with every legal benefit of my biological children. He is a full member of the family and is different in no way than anyone else with only one exception - that the legal bond is actually stronger than the one I have with the kids who have my DNA. That aside, he is completely the same from a legal perspective. My name is on his birth certificate and we got to choose his name.
The thing I'm trying to say here is that his adoption was an event, not a status or an identity. We have a shared family identity and he relates strongly to it. To continually refer to him as my "adopted son" or to tell him, "You are adopted," keeps him on the outside. There are enough other factors that we need to overcome that this language is something we try to avoid because we want him to know that we love him just as much as our daughters (one of whom was also adopted by Billy).
This one could seem a little nitpicky. After all, Billy and I were married at a specific point in time with a particular legal proceeding. But we still talk about ourselves as "being married." So, if this were the only thing that people say about children who were adopted, then I would let it slide, but they also throw in this next gem quite a lot.
2. "birth mother" not "real mom"
I can't tell you the number of people who ask me if I know anything about my son's "real mom." I'm a snarky little daughter-of-a-gun, so of course, I respond with, "I'm his real mom."
Let's go back to the legal information again. Billy was married before. There were legal things that went along with that. They had rights to each other's belongings and shared a cell plan. Then they got divorced, and he married me. Can you imagine if people asked us if we knew anything that's going on with his "real" wife???? WTF? I'm his real wife! Someone else used to be, yes. But she chose to terminate her rights to that title, just as a mother chose to terminate her rights to her child.
Some mothers choose to do so because they love their children and want a better home. Some choose to do so through selfish and negligent actions. But they all chose to birth their children, and for that we are more grateful to these women than we could ever explain. No matter how selfish a woman may have been after the birth of her child; no matter how many unwise choices she made, she at least made the choice to let her child live. She at least gave one gift. So, we want to honor these women. We don't want to call them ex-moms, as if they no longer hold a meaningful place in our hearts and lives. We call them "birth moms" because they chose to birth their children, instead of kill them.
Even still, I am the mom now (honestly, I would never actually call myself the "real mom" over the birth mom except in a sarcastic response). I am the woman who listens to this child talk non-stop day-in, day-out. I'm the woman who makes up chants to help him learn to spell his name. I'm the one who potty trained him. I'm the one who takes him to school. I'm the one that reads to him and bathes him. And I'm the one that gets to hear his "I love you"s. I'm his mom. And it's as real as it gets.
3. "my kids" not "my own kids"
I have many well-intentioned friends say this. They are often people who are thinking about adopting children in the future. So, I know that they are sympathetic to the cause, but it is surprising to me that this distinction is made.
It usually comes in the form of, "Well, we might adopt, but we want to have our own kids first." I get the sentiment behind it, although I will admit I don't really "get" it. I don't understand the fascination with passing along one's biological information in order to create a whole new being. I do know that it's an amazing thing to have a child grow in you, but I rarely think much of it on a daily basis. It's been years since that happened to me, and the only time it comes up is when a child asks where babies come from.
Again, this is a phrase that is used that segregates the family. There are the "biological children" and the "adopted children." The message is that they are not the same in the eyes of the speaker. But this is hurtful (even when it's not intended to be) because families who have adopted will go through great pains to love and acclimate a child into their family. Part of that often means being willing to change their family culture to accommodate the new child. Our family is not the same as it was before our son came to us. He has changed to fit into our family patterns, but our family patterns have changed to fit with him, as well. He is as much my own child and as much as part of this family as anyone.
Rule of thumb: Think about the person as a full person and the family as a whole family.
When you need to speak about the adoption (which, honestly, does probably not need to happen every time a conversation with or about the family is started), please remember that we are people first and a family first. The adoption is secondary.
This also, as a side note, goes for other ideas like disabilities. People first. Disabilities second.
"Children in foster care" not "Foster child"
"Baby with down's syndrome" not "Down's syndrome baby"
You get the idea....
Thursday, January 30, 2014
How to Have a Morning Luxury for a One-Time Fee of $6
So, let me just get this out of the way. My new year has sucked. Like nothing bad has happened... at all, really. I count my blessings because with 5 people in a nuclear family, there is high likelihood of catastrophe at any given point. And I definitely have some friends who have already been through the wringer before January is even over. So, I guess I'm saying that this is silly for me to feel this way, and I acknowledge it and I aim to move past it, but it's where I am. 2014 has thus far been the year of suck.
One of the reasons is that I really intended to get a grip on my life and what I'm doing and where I'm going. There are lots of reasons that I won't go into, but the short of it is that I have many loose strings that I am certain could be the beautiful bow on top of a much-needed gift to the world and humanity if only I could figure out how to tie them all up.
I have not yet been successful. And I know what you're thinking... 2014 just started. You have the whole year to tie them up. That's the point, right? Yes. It is. It's the year to tie them up. But little impatient me wanted to tie them up at least enough to have a plan for the beautiful bow by now.
Kind of like... I wanted to at least have googled "How to make a beautiful bow out of all your scraps of string" and to have scoured all the e-hows and instructables so that I could move forward with the actual crafting. But I have barely sat down to open up my browser.
And what, you ask, does this have to do with morning luxury?
Well, this is my one success story, so I share it here.
One of my epiphanies was that I need to have tangible rewards for the behaviors that I seek to change. One of those is to enjoy exercise more. I already exercise 3 times a week, but I wanted to change my attitude toward it, so I started eating one small square of some amazing chocolate that I won in dirty Santa at Christmas. It has significantly increased my desire to exercise, and surprisingly, I haven't found every other excuse to eat it in the meantime.
Another habit that I wanted to reestablish was that of waking up and spending time reading the Bible and praying. I haven't had this habit for ... oh, 7 years. It's really been since Ashlyn was born that I haven't had any kind of consistency with daily faith experiences. I mean, Christ is my life, so I absolutely would think about him or shoot some prayers his direction here and there throughout the day, but I'm not a surface-type person. I'm a dig deep and explore kind of person, and so it was frustrating that I wasn't having those moments consistently. I also find that time to be a grounding as I go about my day. It reminds me of the truths I believe and when I get stuck in a rut of selfishness, it jerks me back to reality that everyone else is just as precious as I am, and that in no way undermines my worth, it only testifies to the vastness of love.
So, I needed a reward because Heaven knows that waking up early is not my strong suit.
With no further ado, here's the 4-step process of how I get to have morning luxury for a one-time fee of $6.
1. Sell a high-priced item on eBay. I sold Rosetta Stone, which I've since found out is illegal. So, maybe try something else. You will earn almost $15 in eBay credits. If your buyer flakes out and doesn't pay like mine does, you will still have your product and eBay will not take away your credits. I found this to be very considerate of them.
2. Buy a 1-cup coffee maker on eBay 3 months later when your reward bucks are valid. I did hours of research for you, and I've found that the best one for the luxury of a porcelain mug is by a brand I've never heard of. You might be hesitant to go with something you've never heard of, but it will be worth it. Hundreds of reviews can't be wrong, and besides I have it and can vouch for it. On eBay it will actually be $3 more expensive, but remember... you have $15 of credit.
3. Set up the coffee maker in in your master bathroom. Also, be sure to get everything prepared the night before you want to use it, or else it kind of defeats the purpose. If you don't drink coffee... #1. What's wrong with you? and #2. This is not quite hot enough to dissolve your hot chocolate, but it will brew a tea bag instead.
4. Enjoy coffee (or tea or lumpy hot chocolate) in your nice warm bed while reading under your cozy blankets.
Bonus step: If you have a reliable digital outlet timer, you can set it to start brewing about 7 minutes before you want to get out of bed. I tried this with an analog timer, and it was not accurate enough to be worth it, so now I just get up and turn the machine off while my alarm snoozes.
One of the reasons is that I really intended to get a grip on my life and what I'm doing and where I'm going. There are lots of reasons that I won't go into, but the short of it is that I have many loose strings that I am certain could be the beautiful bow on top of a much-needed gift to the world and humanity if only I could figure out how to tie them all up.
I have not yet been successful. And I know what you're thinking... 2014 just started. You have the whole year to tie them up. That's the point, right? Yes. It is. It's the year to tie them up. But little impatient me wanted to tie them up at least enough to have a plan for the beautiful bow by now.
Kind of like... I wanted to at least have googled "How to make a beautiful bow out of all your scraps of string" and to have scoured all the e-hows and instructables so that I could move forward with the actual crafting. But I have barely sat down to open up my browser.
And what, you ask, does this have to do with morning luxury?
Well, this is my one success story, so I share it here.
One of my epiphanies was that I need to have tangible rewards for the behaviors that I seek to change. One of those is to enjoy exercise more. I already exercise 3 times a week, but I wanted to change my attitude toward it, so I started eating one small square of some amazing chocolate that I won in dirty Santa at Christmas. It has significantly increased my desire to exercise, and surprisingly, I haven't found every other excuse to eat it in the meantime.
Another habit that I wanted to reestablish was that of waking up and spending time reading the Bible and praying. I haven't had this habit for ... oh, 7 years. It's really been since Ashlyn was born that I haven't had any kind of consistency with daily faith experiences. I mean, Christ is my life, so I absolutely would think about him or shoot some prayers his direction here and there throughout the day, but I'm not a surface-type person. I'm a dig deep and explore kind of person, and so it was frustrating that I wasn't having those moments consistently. I also find that time to be a grounding as I go about my day. It reminds me of the truths I believe and when I get stuck in a rut of selfishness, it jerks me back to reality that everyone else is just as precious as I am, and that in no way undermines my worth, it only testifies to the vastness of love.
So, I needed a reward because Heaven knows that waking up early is not my strong suit.
With no further ado, here's the 4-step process of how I get to have morning luxury for a one-time fee of $6.
1. Sell a high-priced item on eBay. I sold Rosetta Stone, which I've since found out is illegal. So, maybe try something else. You will earn almost $15 in eBay credits. If your buyer flakes out and doesn't pay like mine does, you will still have your product and eBay will not take away your credits. I found this to be very considerate of them.
2. Buy a 1-cup coffee maker on eBay 3 months later when your reward bucks are valid. I did hours of research for you, and I've found that the best one for the luxury of a porcelain mug is by a brand I've never heard of. You might be hesitant to go with something you've never heard of, but it will be worth it. Hundreds of reviews can't be wrong, and besides I have it and can vouch for it. On eBay it will actually be $3 more expensive, but remember... you have $15 of credit.
3. Set up the coffee maker in in your master bathroom. Also, be sure to get everything prepared the night before you want to use it, or else it kind of defeats the purpose. If you don't drink coffee... #1. What's wrong with you? and #2. This is not quite hot enough to dissolve your hot chocolate, but it will brew a tea bag instead.
4. Enjoy coffee (or tea or lumpy hot chocolate) in your nice warm bed while reading under your cozy blankets.
Bonus step: If you have a reliable digital outlet timer, you can set it to start brewing about 7 minutes before you want to get out of bed. I tried this with an analog timer, and it was not accurate enough to be worth it, so now I just get up and turn the machine off while my alarm snoozes.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
In the Meantime...
The other day, I quasi-promised myself and you (my loyal 2 readers) that I would get my rear in gear this week and move forward in this new year, new life mentality. That is, I will take it from a thought to an action. How I will do that is still a question for debate, but right now I'm giving myself the continued excuse of waiting for a book to come in at my library that should revolutionize the way I look at writing and, shortly thereafter, change my entire existence. One of these days I will write that kind of book.
But for now, I thought I would just give you a glimpse into today. This dull-drum day that begin at 6:10 when I miraculously arose in accordance with my alarm clock. Actually, this isn't so miraculous these days, as there is a simple explanation, which I will share in the form of another sarcastic post on another day. For now, you need know nothing except that I arose. And from that you should be proud of me.
Well, I'm proud of myself anyway. You probably don't really like me telling you what you should or should not know, feel, or do. If you do like it, um, that's a little weird.
The day quickly, and for no reason whatsoever, met a not-so-subtle decrescendo after Billy left for work. Today, I took it as my queue to be completely self-centered and to neglect the fact that I alone am responsible for my child's education. Me and no one else. And I just let my kid sleep until she awoke on her own. Mainly because I wasn't up for a fight. Which is a large portion of why we are sending her to school next year (ooops, hadn't you heard that yet?)
So, I was well aware that I was only affirming her negative habits, but that knowledge wasn't enough for me to change my course of action. I am happy to say, however, that I did not get on facebook and play Pet Rescue Saga. So, I have that going for me, which is nice. In reality, I planned my outing to CVS because shopping there on a budget takes some serious manipulation.
And that was my morning. The girl eventually woke up and we got along with our day, still somewhat lethargically, but at least we did enough to technically count it for credit according to bare minimum state standards.
But for now, I thought I would just give you a glimpse into today. This dull-drum day that begin at 6:10 when I miraculously arose in accordance with my alarm clock. Actually, this isn't so miraculous these days, as there is a simple explanation, which I will share in the form of another sarcastic post on another day. For now, you need know nothing except that I arose. And from that you should be proud of me.
Well, I'm proud of myself anyway. You probably don't really like me telling you what you should or should not know, feel, or do. If you do like it, um, that's a little weird.
The day quickly, and for no reason whatsoever, met a not-so-subtle decrescendo after Billy left for work. Today, I took it as my queue to be completely self-centered and to neglect the fact that I alone am responsible for my child's education. Me and no one else. And I just let my kid sleep until she awoke on her own. Mainly because I wasn't up for a fight. Which is a large portion of why we are sending her to school next year (ooops, hadn't you heard that yet?)
So, I was well aware that I was only affirming her negative habits, but that knowledge wasn't enough for me to change my course of action. I am happy to say, however, that I did not get on facebook and play Pet Rescue Saga. So, I have that going for me, which is nice. In reality, I planned my outing to CVS because shopping there on a budget takes some serious manipulation.
And that was my morning. The girl eventually woke up and we got along with our day, still somewhat lethargically, but at least we did enough to technically count it for credit according to bare minimum state standards.
Monday, January 20, 2014
Happy Chinese New Year, maybe?
I had intended to write sooner. I had all these end of 2013 reflections that kinda kicked me in the rear with a big, "Get moving, woman!" thrown in for good measure. I have many things that I'm seeking, many things that I'm thinking... many more that I haven't even begun to grasp.
But procrastination has been my companion these weeks. Not even that kind of procrastination that stems from the lack of motivation or a particular distaste for a given task. Rather, there is nothing this writer enjoys more than writing. Well, I can think of something, after all, but it's not really your business but I'm not too much of a prude to talk about it. I just think it would embarrass some of you, so I'm going to hint around the topic and carry on as if you knew what I'm talking about.
So, yes, to me, writing is a pastime. It's not simply the production of an end-product. It is the experience. It is the unveiling of my heart on paper. It is the exploration of my thoughts, the time when I myself only begin to understand what I think. It is the mean I use to know myself, to conduct logical exercises, to confirm my beliefs, to challenge my preconceived notions, and to share myself with those around me.
Yet I have forsaken it.
Because there is too little time and too much content. Those times when I have sat down to write have ended with ramblings, cursory glances at the myriad of topics bouncing around in my head. To say I scratched the surface would be generous. I merely realized that the surface existed. And perhaps that it was quite itchy.
And here is where I betray myself. Because I have too many directions to go from here to effectively communicate myself to you. How do you say something when you don't know what there is to be said?
So, I hope yet to take this desire for knowing myself and sharing myself and to come to some understanding about what I have of value to give to you. So, perhaps, I will be able to know what goals I have for the future by the time the Chinese New Year arrives. Because really... what's a new year except a page on a calendar? And what makes my new year more worthy of my offerings than one from the other side of the globe?
So... yes, that's what I will attempt (you see my hesitation, as if I don't even believe myself?)... to have a place to start... next week.
But procrastination has been my companion these weeks. Not even that kind of procrastination that stems from the lack of motivation or a particular distaste for a given task. Rather, there is nothing this writer enjoys more than writing. Well, I can think of something, after all, but it's not really your business but I'm not too much of a prude to talk about it. I just think it would embarrass some of you, so I'm going to hint around the topic and carry on as if you knew what I'm talking about.
So, yes, to me, writing is a pastime. It's not simply the production of an end-product. It is the experience. It is the unveiling of my heart on paper. It is the exploration of my thoughts, the time when I myself only begin to understand what I think. It is the mean I use to know myself, to conduct logical exercises, to confirm my beliefs, to challenge my preconceived notions, and to share myself with those around me.
Yet I have forsaken it.
Because there is too little time and too much content. Those times when I have sat down to write have ended with ramblings, cursory glances at the myriad of topics bouncing around in my head. To say I scratched the surface would be generous. I merely realized that the surface existed. And perhaps that it was quite itchy.
And here is where I betray myself. Because I have too many directions to go from here to effectively communicate myself to you. How do you say something when you don't know what there is to be said?
So, I hope yet to take this desire for knowing myself and sharing myself and to come to some understanding about what I have of value to give to you. So, perhaps, I will be able to know what goals I have for the future by the time the Chinese New Year arrives. Because really... what's a new year except a page on a calendar? And what makes my new year more worthy of my offerings than one from the other side of the globe?
So... yes, that's what I will attempt (you see my hesitation, as if I don't even believe myself?)... to have a place to start... next week.
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