I wrote this awhile ago. Just after our first cold snap, if that gives you a time frame. It doesn't me because I can't remember what I had for lunch day before yesterday. At the time, I don't know, it didn't fit my mood, match my outfit, whatever. But I reread it and if feels a little like New Year's thinking so I'm going to throw it up there. And get it out of the draft file. I dislike the draft file. No closure there. Unfinished bidness. I like to cross things off my list man!
Have a great, fabulous, wonderful, New Year's Eve!!!! However you define that. Go out, stay in or maybe like my family...zigzag your neighborhood street in below freezing weather for a progressive dinner to be followed by one of my favorite things...a white elephant gift exchange! I love my neighbors!!!!!
xoxo
~S
Replaced your heater's filter lately? Me neither. But we should. It got good and cold last night and this morning I had the pleasure of flipping the thermostat to heat. Ahhh. It felt good. Real good. Tomorrow's high? 56.
But that's not really the filter I'm talking about. I'm talking about your personal filter. Do you have one? Should you? Could you? Would you? Last week I was reading a friend of a friend's blog...and she was lamenting the lack of filter on the current generation. It's one of her big ick's about facebook. And blogs. Although she has a blog. I think she has a point, though. Of course, I have never had much of a filter. If you know me, you know. I wear my life pretty publicly. I always had up until I hit around 40. Something about that age made me think I should evaluate, reconsider, shake things up a bit. I sent my good friend Lisa a list of things not to be done after 40. Like wearing t-shirts with writing.
I also began to try to be discreet. That was my code word. Discreet = elegant, mysterious, reserved, graceful. Problem with that? I'm just not. My husband, however, is the epitome of discreet. It's in his nature. He couldn't wear his heart on his sleeve if he tried. And I can't not wear mine on my sleeve.
You know what I ended up with, in this effort to age gracefully? A big, fat, compartmentalized life. Ugh. I just can't do it. And I don't want to. A few months ago, I got out a box cutter and went to town. All my life I have been blessed with exceptional friends who love me, come what may. All discreet and compartmentalized? Not so much. Sure a couple have emerged. People who stuck. But for the most part?...nah. Once the other parts of me seeped into the box they were comfortable in...they were out. That's okay. I've learned. Maybe they have too. I don't know. We don't talk too much anymore.
But I know who I am, and so do you. If you're still here...wow! You rock. If you can't handle the redhead, don't let the door hit ya'. No malice. It's just that I don't have the inclination to worry about it. And so is the friend of a friend right about the lack of filter being a problem? A threat to civil society as we know it? I don't think so. I think that fb and blogs are pretty much about the person writing them. It's the nature of the beast. Whether you spend your time in their world - is about you and your own personal filter. Take some responsibility. Only invite into your life that which blesses you. If it doesn't fit, don't wear it. Should we have filters? Sure. Filter what you decide to spend time and energy on. Don't be so worried about what someone else is doing.
And family secrets? I'm not a fan. I grew up with a few doozies. Let's just say revisiting and re-evaluating your childhood as an adult armed with formerly withheld information...not so much fun. But because I do have a bit of a filter, there's no need to air all the dirty laundry.
Just don't wear t-shirts with writing on them past 40.
xoxo
~S
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Holiday Hangover Cure
Did you have one? I did. My annual holiday hangover. No, I am not talking about having been over served 1 too many stiff eggnogs, nor am I talking about that squishy part of you that might be hanging over your jeans today. I'm talking about that anticlimactic, restless feeling that follows Christmas for me. Every year. Without fail. What to do about it?
Well, first you need to know where you carry your posttraumatic holiday stress. Because you need to purge it. I carry mine in a series of knots lodged directly under my right shoulder blade. I found this out when, on our honeymoon cruise, the therapist, as she ran her thumb along them counting them out loud (there were 8), said...Wow, you must be really stressed out. Huh? All I'd done is finish my last semester of college, gotten married, and started writing my resume. In a 2 month time span. That's all. I just thought I was busy. But apparently all that joyful change...can knot me up like a pretzel. Even when I'm having fun.
So now when I wake up and realize my right hand is pretty much numb, I know those knots have taken over and it is time to work them out. Which is precisely what started happening about 3 or 4 days ago. You know, right after Christmas. These days, since as a mother of 3, I perpetually have more to do than hours in the day, it happens a lot. And so I am the proud owner one of those beige shiatsu massage pillows. You know, one of those things that look like it's going to smell like Bengay because it belongs to an 80 year old man? For the past few mornings I have spent hours with that miracle working pillow massaging out my knots and doing productive things like watching the entire season of The Last American Cowboy and Tabatha's Salon Takeover. Pure relief.
But watching all that hard, efficient, ranch work, made even slacker me feel a little lazy today. And my knots seemed to be gone so I couldn't really call lounging around all day with my shiatsu pillow productive. And you know, the New Year is day after tomorrow. It's time for Change. Rejuvenation. Resolution. Don't worry I haven't gone all Type A on you. If you haven't bailed yet, first, thank you. Second, keep reading and learn the secret of successful slacker productivity.
People call me many things, but overly organized and structured are usually not among them. I'm selectively organized. Which is really code for being L.A.Z.Y. As in I detest, with every fiber of my being, to look for things. It's why I never, ever, put my keys anywhere besides right in their little dish by the front door. If I have to look for them when it's time to leave, the jig is up. I'll be the one plopped on the sofa, content, deciding I didn't really need to leave my house that day. And please never ask me to help you find something. It will wreck our friendship. I will start out appearing to be really hunting for your very important lost thing. And then, 47 seconds in, I will make some excuse about needing my glasses that are in my car. And I'll drive home. Because I probably have a new episode of Tabatha's Salon Takeover waiting on my DVR. And I need to watch it and work out that stress knot that developed when I agreed to help you find something. But I digress.
I decided that among other things (like it being prosperous), I would like 2011 to be more selectively organized. There were a couple of things nagging at me. First, I have had to look for my BlackBerry about 25 times in the last week and it is beginning to really bug me. Second, I really wanted to get rid of the basket by our phone that sits on my breakfast bar taking up more than its fair share of space. The problem is that it houses important essentials like pens, pencils, scissors, my life sustaining post-it notes and a calculator. It also accumulated things like bits of paper, shock pens purchased by my boys at the fair in September and random buttons. The logical solution to this is that all that stuff in the basket could really be housed in what was currently the junk drawer in the kitchen. And my BlackBerry could live right by the phone. Even I can remember that.
Well, junk drawer no more! I bought a little organizer thing at Target (I even measured the drawer before I left - who says I can't learn something from my past mistakes), and emptied the junk drawer of its junk and replaced it with sweet, beautiful, organization. Can you hear the rejoicing? Imagine that I found such treasures as an expired coupon from 2006 for fresh meat at Albertsons, 23 cents in nickels, dimes and pennies, all 13 lost mailbox keys that I refused to look for in '03 and paid the post office to replace the lock on our mailbox with a new one, and 10 rulers. Why we need 10 rulers, I don't know.
And so I am done. My New Year's Resolution is complete. I don't have do anything more. So the secret to successful slacker productivity? Be vague. Be very vague. I only said I wanted to be more selectively organized. No specifics, no quantification. And so now, with one drawer, I can lounge around for the entire 2011 year. Unless the BlackBerry thing doesn't work out.
Happy Slacker New Year!
~S
Well, first you need to know where you carry your post
So now when I wake up and realize my right hand is pretty much numb, I know those knots have taken over and it is time to work them out. Which is precisely what started happening about 3 or 4 days ago. You know, right after Christmas. These days, since as a mother of 3, I perpetually have more to do than hours in the day, it happens a lot. And so I am the proud owner one of those beige shiatsu massage pillows. You know, one of those things that look like it's going to smell like Bengay because it belongs to an 80 year old man? For the past few mornings I have spent hours with that miracle working pillow massaging out my knots and doing productive things like watching the entire season of The Last American Cowboy and Tabatha's Salon Takeover. Pure relief.
But watching all that hard, efficient, ranch work, made even slacker me feel a little lazy today. And my knots seemed to be gone so I couldn't really call lounging around all day with my shiatsu pillow productive. And you know, the New Year is day after tomorrow. It's time for Change. Rejuvenation. Resolution. Don't worry I haven't gone all Type A on you. If you haven't bailed yet, first, thank you. Second, keep reading and learn the secret of successful slacker productivity.
People call me many things, but overly organized and structured are usually not among them. I'm selectively organized. Which is really code for being L.A.Z.Y. As in I detest, with every fiber of my being, to look for things. It's why I never, ever, put my keys anywhere besides right in their little dish by the front door. If I have to look for them when it's time to leave, the jig is up. I'll be the one plopped on the sofa, content, deciding I didn't really need to leave my house that day. And please never ask me to help you find something. It will wreck our friendship. I will start out appearing to be really hunting for your very important lost thing. And then, 47 seconds in, I will make some excuse about needing my glasses that are in my car. And I'll drive home. Because I probably have a new episode of Tabatha's Salon Takeover waiting on my DVR. And I need to watch it and work out that stress knot that developed when I agreed to help you find something. But I digress.
I decided that among other things (like it being prosperous), I would like 2011 to be more selectively organized. There were a couple of things nagging at me. First, I have had to look for my BlackBerry about 25 times in the last week and it is beginning to really bug me. Second, I really wanted to get rid of the basket by our phone that sits on my breakfast bar taking up more than its fair share of space. The problem is that it houses important essentials like pens, pencils, scissors, my life sustaining post-it notes and a calculator. It also accumulated things like bits of paper, shock pens purchased by my boys at the fair in September and random buttons. The logical solution to this is that all that stuff in the basket could really be housed in what was currently the junk drawer in the kitchen. And my BlackBerry could live right by the phone. Even I can remember that.
Well, junk drawer no more! I bought a little organizer thing at Target (I even measured the drawer before I left - who says I can't learn something from my past mistakes), and emptied the junk drawer of its junk and replaced it with sweet, beautiful, organization. Can you hear the rejoicing? Imagine that I found such treasures as an expired coupon from 2006 for fresh meat at Albertsons, 23 cents in nickels, dimes and pennies, all 13 lost mailbox keys that I refused to look for in '03 and paid the post office to replace the lock on our mailbox with a new one, and 10 rulers. Why we need 10 rulers, I don't know.
And so I am done. My New Year's Resolution is complete. I don't have do anything more. So the secret to successful slacker productivity? Be vague. Be very vague. I only said I wanted to be more selectively organized. No specifics, no quantification. And so now, with one drawer, I can lounge around for the entire 2011 year. Unless the BlackBerry thing doesn't work out.
Happy Slacker New Year!
~S
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
3 days...or in my case 2
When does your family celebrate Christmas? We celebrate with my mother's side of the family on Christmas Eve. At my house. When I was a kid my mom had Christmas Eve at our house; it was her holiday. She always made potato soup and Italian sausage sandwiches. Why? Kind of an odd combination? They were my dad's two favorite dishes. His side of the family came over and sometimes my mom's parents. Over the years, and after the divorce, Christmas Eve moved to my grandma's house (mom's mom), my aunt and uncle and cousins started joining us (I think they had to, living just on the other side of the pier), but the menu remained largely unchanged. I think my grandma added split pea soup because my grandpa really liked that.
The first Christmas after my mom passed away I had my oldest 5 weeks prematurely, on December 19th. She got to spend her first week in the NICU and so, Christmas Eve moved to the hospital. My amazing family drove all the way from the coast to Loma Linda University Hospital, stopping by our house to stock the freezer with the usual holiday fare and more gifts for the baby than I could have dreamed up, and then came and spent a couple of hours with us. Since she was still in an incubator, nobody could even hold her yet. But she was overcoming her pneumonia and getting stronger each day, and we got to bring her home the day after Christmas. It's one of my favorite Christmases for so many reasons. What could have been a terribly sad holiday missing my mom was filled with a new baby and a loving, generous family.
A couple years later we lost my grandma, and Christmas Eve came to my house. The menu has continued to evolve, and now seems to be steadfastly potato soup, ham, and whatever else I dream up. Much to my husband's consternation I have an absolute inability to have a party and not serve something I've never tasted before. I like to experiment with new recipes on a crowd. You've been warned. My 92 year old grandpa still comes out, my aunt and uncle and now my two cousins and their kids. As the kids have gotten older, the running in circles and the volume has gone down. Which I think my grandpa, especially, appreciates.
I love that this has been my tradition for as long as I can remember. I know there was a time when I was really little that this isn't what was happening, but that's okay. I don't remember back that far.
So the little caveat, and there always is one, right? Is that my sister in law, almost always ends up hosting Christmas Day. When that day rolls around, our house resembles a disaster area, and we are pooped. Doesn't seem so bad, right? The thing is the past couple of years she's also been having Thanksgiving at her house. And I don't really think it's fair for her. So I have already committed to hosting Christmas Day next year. We did it once before, and it was...really hard. But the kids were littler and I wasn't as good at doing things ahead of time. I figure with an entire year to plan ahead, 2011 should go off without a hitch. Right? Never mind that last year I forgot to start the soup on time...
Merry Christmas!
xxoo
~Sherri
The first Christmas after my mom passed away I had my oldest 5 weeks prematurely, on December 19th. She got to spend her first week in the NICU and so, Christmas Eve moved to the hospital. My amazing family drove all the way from the coast to Loma Linda University Hospital, stopping by our house to stock the freezer with the usual holiday fare and more gifts for the baby than I could have dreamed up, and then came and spent a couple of hours with us. Since she was still in an incubator, nobody could even hold her yet. But she was overcoming her pneumonia and getting stronger each day, and we got to bring her home the day after Christmas. It's one of my favorite Christmases for so many reasons. What could have been a terribly sad holiday missing my mom was filled with a new baby and a loving, generous family.
A couple years later we lost my grandma, and Christmas Eve came to my house. The menu has continued to evolve, and now seems to be steadfastly potato soup, ham, and whatever else I dream up. Much to my husband's consternation I have an absolute inability to have a party and not serve something I've never tasted before. I like to experiment with new recipes on a crowd. You've been warned. My 92 year old grandpa still comes out, my aunt and uncle and now my two cousins and their kids. As the kids have gotten older, the running in circles and the volume has gone down. Which I think my grandpa, especially, appreciates.
I love that this has been my tradition for as long as I can remember. I know there was a time when I was really little that this isn't what was happening, but that's okay. I don't remember back that far.
So the little caveat, and there always is one, right? Is that my sister in law, almost always ends up hosting Christmas Day. When that day rolls around, our house resembles a disaster area, and we are pooped. Doesn't seem so bad, right? The thing is the past couple of years she's also been having Thanksgiving at her house. And I don't really think it's fair for her. So I have already committed to hosting Christmas Day next year. We did it once before, and it was...really hard. But the kids were littler and I wasn't as good at doing things ahead of time. I figure with an entire year to plan ahead, 2011 should go off without a hitch. Right? Never mind that last year I forgot to start the soup on time...
Merry Christmas!
xxoo
~Sherri
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