This is the day that I knew would throw me. I wasn’t sure exactly how much though.
I knew I was meeting a friend/former colleague/former client for coffee at 10. I should have gotten up early and exercised so I could write while I was waiting for her, but no. I did not do that. What I did was start my morning as usual, but my littlest angel was in a tizz about everything. You know, the typical 3-year-old tragedies occurred such as the wrong cereal going into the wrong bowl, and what have you. Add to that my middle child consistently needing no fewer than 10 reminders to get dressed, along with uncertainty about where the bus was going to arrive (will it be at our door as usual? Or is the snow on the road too much for it?), sore buns and legs from my workout yesterday, and I was running on a lot of stress and little else.
Then? I spilled my coffee on my way out the door. My coffee. All over the entry way table. Which in addition to housing essential items, is also one of two things I own from my grandmother’s home . I love this table and I cling to it, even though my husband doesn’t care too much for it. The reaction I had when the coffee spilled — “Oh no! Not on Grandma’s table!” — surprised me.
We got that wiped up, and of course that put us 5 minutes behind. Got littlest off to school and as I was buckling eldest back in the car, my bracelet got snagged on a car seat and broke. Now, how my bracelet sneaked out and got stuck on anything from underneath my coat and gloves will forever be a mystery to me. But the beads scattered, and got wet, and since they are made from paper, the beads themselves are damaged to the extent that I can’t fix it.
At this point I told my daughter that I just wanted to go home and go back to bed. But then I remembered that I was a grownup and said, “If that is the worst thing that happens to me, I’m one of the luckiest people on the planet.” And I am.
My plan at that point was to see my daughter onto her bus, drive to Squirrel Hill, drop off a physical form at the pediatrician’s (since my son transferred schools, his records need to be updated), deposit checks, have coffee at 10, stop by the library and be home between 11-12 and have lunch and be done exercising and writing by 1 so i could do some cleaning (and? AND!? I messed up on my cleaning schedule so instead of doing the incredibly easy cleaning windows and mirrors, I prepped the oven to be cleaned, which is a huge pain in the ass and must be completed before I can cook anything). Well, I wound up reading the fine print on the medical form and not needing to stop by the pediatrician’s office (I can just give permission to release the records to the school) so I had a lot of time between the bank and meeting for coffee, which began 10 minutes late.
It was a very very good meeting and I feel like I was able help her in her information gathering, and talking a little about my experience as a doula and how it did (or did not) work with my life and family made me feel more confident in my decision to take an indefinite hiatus from birth work. It was also really nice to have a coffee and chat!
So the good news is we had a lovely time chatting and lost track of time. However, I lost track of time and didn’t finish up until 1pm, so no library. I was able to scarf down some lunch as I write this blog post, which I chose over exercise because I could eat and type at the same time. I’ve never tried to work out and eat at the same time but I have to imagine it would go poorly. I have 15 minutes until I need to leave to get littlest sweetie from school. I haven’t exercised or thought about dinner (well, I have thought about it but… it’s complicated.
See, at 530 my eldest has cello group lessons, which overlaps our Family Choir dinner time between 6-630, with singing starting at 630. In a perfect world, if my husband gets to cello at 6, we can all go to church, all of us snag some dinner there before 630, and he can either drive The Big Car back with the boys while the Girl and I take the little car home after choir, or he can hang out with them and do homework with the middle child in the interim.
This is our first choir practice of the season. I really really love singing in the Family Choir. It’s enough to be making a joyful noise, and it is one of the things I do that indeed just provides me with JOY. I feel challenged by the music (simple as it is) but it’s not so difficult that I can’t have any success. It is a spiritual practice for me to be part of the community and to provide part of the services on Sundays. I enjoy the fellowship with the others in the choir. And I just like to sing and I’m glad that this outlet is available and that I don’t have to audition or have a particular level of ability. So, as hectic as it makes our Tuesdays, it’s really important to me that it works out.
The long and short of it, then, I suppose, is that the fact I feel totally derailed by this day being wacky, indicates to me that my Project Karen is a success so far. It is getting me on track and I am enjoying the pattern in my days. But there’s also the foolish truth that when I am not on this week-old schedule, I’m all kinds of screwed up.
But tonight I’ll exercise. I did yoga this afternoon with two little boys :) The name of the program is Zen in the Den and it was pretty gently. I’ll be back on track tomorrow.
But today, I feel insane, and my oven is still dirty.
- Yoga: 20 minutes — gentle.
- Words written: 1000+
- Weight: 146
- Deck Check: Rachel Maddow Show (something I should be listening to=something that is background noise)