Post

-
It's the run, I'm sure.

The 6 miles that felt like 12 that reminded me I am way out of shape where endurance is concerned.

As the thoughts of my lack of fitness and commitment to consistent, long runs washed over me, I shrugged.

"Oh well... No one's perfect..."

As I sat in child's pose shortly thereafter I felt the layer of all the devoured Christmas cookies fold up across my mid-section.

I was nonplussed by the holiday weight.

"It is what it is..."

I heard the neighborhood children running through my home and overheard them playing "kidnappers" as they spiritedly held my child for ransom.  I wondered if I needed to intervene but I found it akin to something twisted I would play as a child so I didn't overstep their creative liberties.

"So be it..."

My home was left sometime later in utter disarray. 

I shrugged.

I picked up a few toy soldiers that lay underfoot and pushed playthings to the side of the couch before settling into our home's cushions and continued to tear through a latest novel.

I did not sigh- not even once over my first-world problems.
 
"Can't win em' all..."

I stopped momentarily and wondered where my recent minimal-stress attitude had come from. Needless to say, I didn't worry long enough to wonder.

I just can't be bothered by that stream of consciousness... Too much energy.

Do I hope to return to a prior version of me? One that is always nagging about things needing to be done, fixed, straightened, polished, preened, attended...?

I really don't know.  It seems an awful lot to wonder.

I relax and let it go.

Images of the real good stuff worth throwing some energy into...
 
Sayler- thouroughly passed out from her playful afternoon. I like my cool kid. I really do.  
Teepee compliments of mommy and daddy for Christmas.


Sayler at gymnastics.  I am pretty obsessed with watching her.
 
 
Enjoying our Wednesday night tradition of watching trash T.V. while Lloyd plays soccer at The Arena.
 
("Peppa Pig" for her/ "The Killing" for me) and eating jelly bellys- carefully vetting and sampling each flavor and providing our unique opinions of each.  She can be quite articulate where confections are concerned.
_





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"Dear Bobby"

-
Image
"Dear Bobby, I love you. I always look forward to when my husband leaves for work, and you sneak into bed with me. Sometimes, you will wake me up, but usually, you just lie there next to me waiting for my eyes to open." Bobby. You are a cat. But you are the cat of all cats. Unliked some others whose names I will not mention.... you like being a cat. You are my original Obi Kenobi... But you don't like your name and insist I call you "Bobby" or "Bob". You are my predator. You can catch anything- including a rabbit almost twice your size. I remember the time you brought a baby possum into our home. I had just awakened and sleepily headed to use the bathroom when, peering from inside the toilet, was a little possum begging to be released. You cheeky bastard, Bobby. That poor possum. I scolded you and you just turned the other whisker, as if to say "look lady... I am a cat, that's how I do...." The other cats beg for forgiveness when ...
Read More

The Good Dancer: A Dating Story

-
Image
I once dated a really good dancer. That wasn't his only strength. In truth, he was one of thee absolute best dudes I ever made out with.  He was super funny, smart and we clicked right away. But what struck me as odd was that, for the first time before and since, his good dancing skills didn't turn me off.  (For some reason, a man with too much swagger on the floor has always confused and frightened me a little.)  Oh, and I also don't like when they are so involved in their dancing that they forget you are on the floor with them.  Oh, and when they A. crowd you or B. use you as a prop.  Oh, and when they sing along to songs by female artists.  If you know all the lyrics to "I'm a Slave for You", that's both impressive and embarrassing. (I really did have strange deal-breakers with men...) So here was the first guy who I enjoyed dancing with that was actually a really good dancer.  He didn't crowd.  He didn't sweat profusely.  H...
Read More

Degree

-
Image
It was on Friday night. We laughed a lot, perhaps made delirious by the sweet smell of men that were familiar-yet-elusive and desirable. It could have been the wine,  it could have been the great company of old friends and conversations and shared opinions with other women. I disagreed with Ariel more than once, though... "Too sweet" or.... "smells like a jelly bean...." The ones I couldn't put down were the ones that smelled like a man's deodorant, hidden among 75+ samples that scattered in baskets around the coffee table. There we sat around a table full of scents as we sampled the fragrances from a friend's Scentsy collection, eager to fill out our order forms for the smells that would soon promise to envelop our homes. I opted for the "Iced Pine" option, which always reminds me of the home I have not yet lived in and lingered around the fragrances that smelled of citrus and orange peels.  The idea of the smell of "Orange...
Read More