This morning I was lying in bed thinking about today's entry and I thought, "I'll do something about simplicity." I got up and as I brushed my teeth I could hear the 2 older kids in the kitchen downstairs up to something. They are often 'up to something'. Being very creative minded (which I love), they are always coming up with some sort of pretend play, that unfortunately ALWAYS involves about a million small pieces of something (which I don't love). Tiny plastic animals, tiny dolls, tiny gems (anything that sparkles they call a gem), tiny rocks, tiny bits of paper...you get the picture. They are always arranged in an elaborate manner, covering a large expanse in a high traffic area, like directly in front of the bathroom door or the refrigerator. One may not disturb the set-up without bearing the penalty of a loud wailing sound.
"Mommmmmmmm! You just stepped on the queen and they're having a party for her and all the loyal subjects are dancing and making cakes and eating candy and now they have to bring the queen to the hospital!!!" Which then gets them excited about the idea of creating a hospital. "Mom, do you have a box?"
So the 'mess' stays for a while and we all just navigate around the party. Unless I'm in a bad mood. Then the party gets booted to the next kingdom. It's the price I have to pay for having creative minds around me I guess. I was always a total slob growing up and now I want to marry my label maker, but that's a whole different entry onto itself.
Anyway, back to simplicity. I equate simplicity with peace and tranquility. I don't get much of those things around here these days as you can gather from the whole 'tiny pieces of stuff everywhere' thing I just wrote about. Tiny pieces of things are clutter to me, and clutter makes me crazy. I hate it. I can't focus. It is definitely NOT the embodiment of simplicity. Yet I often live with clutter around me. Not just from the kids, but from my husband and even myself. We moved into this house a year ago last week and I STILL have boxes, full of god-knows-what, sitting on the floor of my office next to me right now. I don't even want to go into what's up in the attic.
Thought/fact of the day:
Grab your simplicity in moments
and savor them.
What I've come to terms with over the past 10 years is this. It will be a while; years most definitely, before I'll be able to sit down and, for example, write a blog entry without getting up 13 times to break up a fight, make some oatmeal, dole out a time-out, or wipe someone's behind (boy I can't wait until I can stop doing that!) So for now, I try to recognize the MOMENTS of simplicity. Alot of the time they're less than a minute and easy to miss, but I try to recognize them and remember them later amid the chaos. A moment drinking coffee and watching the birds and rabbits out my kitchen window. Waiting for the bus in the afternoon on a gorgeous day. Watching a worm burrow into the dirt with the kids. Looking at my spotless kitchen before it gets trashed again. (OK, that one is a real rarity, but wow, it's a memorable one when it happens!)
So find a moment of simplicity today and savor it. That's the good stuff in life!
It is 3 p.m. and I just took a shower (wow...2 days in a row!) which often happens late in the day and many days not at all. Any mom can relate to this. The thing that struck me though, and led to today's thought of the day was that it actually took me about 20 minutes to get dressed. Most of this time was spent trying on jewelry, putting on make-up, and messing with my hair until I finally decided to put a cute pin in it. And where was I going? To bring my daughter to an appointment. That's it. One person other than my family was going to see me, and yet I still did it. Crazy, I know. I NEVER would have done that before. Before, at least a dozen people laying eyes on me was the minimum criteria for getting dressed in actual clothes (not sweats or pajama's that kind of looked liked clothes) and it took ALOT more people than that to warrant make-up!
Anyone who knew me before last year probably will find that hilarious, because prior to last year I easily could have been the 'before' person on 'What Not To Wear'. I never really cared about what I looked like, especially if I was just running errands.
Now don't get me wrong...I often go to the grocery store still sweaty from the gym because it's right on the way, but the fact is, now I actually put some effort into getting dressed. Pretty much every day. Why? Last year I decided to lose some weight and actually DID IT! I lost about 20 pounds and 2 sizes. ("Hey, I did that? I completed something? Huh.")
With a new body I had to get some new clothes. I put it off as long as I could, but when I started using rope to hold up my pants, I finally broke down and went to Marshall's. ("You know, I guess while I'm here it wouldn't hurt to try on some funky, fun clothes.")
So, now I had a few funky clothes, but my hair was still in that ponytail from 1988. (I admit I even had a scrunchy, but I tried not to use it too often.) I went to the hairdresser with some photos of cute, respectable bobs. Stuck at the bottom, the waaaay bottom, was one of Halle Berry with that super-short hair. She just looked so gorgeous in that short hair. Same with Demi Moore in Ghost. I've always loved that look, but not on me. Not since the Dorothy Hamill hack job in 1977. It traumatized me.
"That one!!" my hairdresser screamed. She started dancing up and down.
"What?! But Halle has a gorgeous face...she can pull it off. I definitely don't look like Halle." I wimpered.
"No, but your face isn't weird or grotesque or anything." (Was that a compliment?...I'm not sure.) After a few minutes of her pleading and dancing like she was going to pee on the floor, I told her to go for it.
"Really?! Really, really?" She could hardly contain herself. I'm thinking this kind of permission is like telling my 7-year old she can sit in the front seat without a seat belt while eating an ice cream cone. (Which by the way would NEVER happen.)
"Sure. Why not?" I say glibly. I'm so brave. I'm such a chic chick. Then the cutting begins.
She's done. I look up. I HATE IT.
"Do you love it?!" She asks.
"It's short." I say. "I just have to get used to it." I add as her face falls. ('It'll grow back and hats are in fashion, kinda.' I think)
When I get home, I wet it, mess it up, look in the mirror, and then I laugh. Wow. That's short. So what! I'll have fun with it. I start to like it. And then I grow to love it after a few days. I now have a hair style?! Weird concept. But I kinda look like a boy, so here comes the makeup. My mom is THRILLED.
"Are you wearing LIPSTICK?!" she exclaims. She's as excited as the hairdresser was. It's been a goal of hers for years to get me to wear make-up... and to go all the way to lipstick?! That's just icing on that cake. She loves it. And you know...so do I. I feel kind of, well, pretty.
So anyway, after all this rambling I'll get to the thought of the day:
It feels good to look nice.
People always told me this. TV shows and magazine articles always told me this. My MOTHER always told me this. But I never believed it made much of a difference. 'Take me as I am world, ripped sweats and all, and if you don't like it then you can go to HECK!' was my attitude. (I'm trying to keep it nice and clean here, folks). And the world did take me as I was. So that was good. But now I want the world to say, "Hey, you look DAMN GOOD, sister!" (well, I can't keep it totally clean. I have my father's side of the family in me big time, and they are all straight from the 'Academy of Filthy Mouths'.) It only took me 40 years to get to this point. I guess I'm growing up. This lipstick's for you, mom!
Here's a photo of that cute hair clip. I HATE pictures of myself but I'm going to try to get over it. It's like taking speech class when you hate public speaking...just gotta make yourself get up there and face the music because every time you do it, it gets a little less horrible.
Welcome to Fabulous 40, self! It's my birthday today, I am 40 years old, and have never blogged before. I used to keep an old-fashioned journal....you know, the kind with paper and pens; but that was pre-kids. The funny thing is, I started writing in a journal when I was a girl so my kids could see what my life was like when I was dead and gone, but when they came along I just stopped. All those poopy diapers kinda get in the way sometimes.
Soooo, I recently saw Julie & Julia (loved it!) and it gave me the idea to start blogging. What the heck, why not? Little tidbits daily don't sound too hard. I have so many thoughts a day...totally scattered. Maybe this will get me back to the organized woman I USED to be. 8 years at home with 3 kids and some dogs have thrown off my organizational skills a bit. I love the idea, let's see if I stick to it! So right now I'll try to make a goal for myself. One thought a day for a year. Wonder if I can do it? I don't have a laptop and we camp sans-technology so this may not be possible, but I'll give it a try. I'm warning you now, the thoughts will not all be profound, and often probably not make any sense, but who's reading anyway?!
I'll fill in my background and other details as time goes on, but I need to do some work now. Yes, on my BIRTHDAY!! What a crime. So my thought of the day is... (and sometimes it may be longer than a sentence. Actually it often may be, just to clarify.) Wow, how can I possibly choose one thing? I'll have to give myself a time limit for thinking too while I'm at it. Otherwise it will be too overwhelming. Ok, another rule is it can be a thought or a FACT about myself or anything else I find interesting. That's better. OK, here it is:
Thought/fact of the day:
I'm EXCITED to be 40!
I really am. My 30's were hard work. I got married (well 2 weeks before I turned 30), had 3 kids, lost 2 dogs, helped my husband through alot of challenges (illness, depression, addiction), renovated 2 houses from top to bottom, changed careers from designer to stay-at-home mom/bookkeeper/freelance designer/manual laborer and... well, I guess that's enough for anyone.
More on all that as time goes on. For now, nice to meet you phantom reader. And kids, if I'm dead & gone and you're reading this, I love you, I love you, I love you. This is for you, you beautiful, funny, wonderful, devilish, crazy kids! You make life worth living!
