sweet solitude

I cherish the mornings when I believe I can conquer anything today. Even if conquering anything means conquering dog hair, dust, dirty footprints on the tile floor, wet nose marks on the patio door, grocery shopping, a new recipe, working at least two hours and somehow looking fresh as a daisy by the time our guests arrive for dinner.

Even though we have many months before we begin starting a family (please don't jump all over that), my brain is wired to think enjoy every day you sleep in, every uninterrupted time with Andy, every coffee/lunch date, every book and magazine you can lazily read, every inch of the house that may be covered in dog hair but is not covered in blocks and little plastic army men and toy cars and Barbie accessories. Breathe in your freedom. Delight in sweet solitude.


So I'm vowing to make this afternoon a cheerful, joyful one. I may have chores to do, but I can blast music and dance around the house and find accomplishment in preparing our home for fellowship. It is a choice, after all, and I am done with choosing to be lazy.

I'm exhaustified.

except not from being the boy. If you know where that saying is from, kudos to you. You are not a ninny pinny.

I'm exhaustified from my crazy long day. First of all, I had to wake up at EIGHT FIFTY. That's the crack of dawn when your recovering body has been dead asleep until noon. I wore real clothes today. And makeup. I took kiddos to school and went to K Stoops to edit photos and play outside with our dogs until four. Came home and mopped kitchen floor. Then walked around the kitchen with paper towels under my feet. Then sprayed the oven with foamness. WHO AM I??? Then wiped the stove. Then dismembered the stove top stuff. Then vacuumed under the stuff. Then made paninis for dinner, which we like to call "nini's," pronounced "knee knees." Then did dishes. Then tried scrubbing stove stuff (grates and drip pans in case you're wondering), then went to the store and bought ammonia and got carried away and bought an eyebrow kit and cuticle cream and a few handy travel sized items which are very hard to resist because anything tiny is hard to resist. Then put stove stuff in a bag with ammonia and started watching Inglorious Basterds (yes, with an e) but Andy fell asleep at 8:45 which was cute (he had a big day at work and was up at 3am) and he went to bed and I tried scrubbing stove stuff again and then tried scrubbing out the oven but that got really gross and then I put some cake on a plate and now I'm blogging and eyeing my cake and trying to pay better attention to Jim Gaffigan because I wuv him.

Exhaustified.

Hottt pockeettt. Calienteee pockeett.

I think I'm gonna go stick my head in the microwave.

To do or not to do

It's 3pm and this is what I've done so far today:  got out of bed at 10am, read the first half of my Self magazine, finished wrapping Christmas presents, searched for the perfect adornment to my sister's birthday gift in my odds and ends drawer-  found it, and had a difficult time parting with it - listened to the Vince Guaraldi trio on my laptop, gave my extremely dirty kitchen the evil eye as I microwaved a plate of leftover ground turkey meat, black beans and cornbread, and curled up under a blanket to watch "Julie and Julia."  While watching, I looked up Julie Powell's latest achievement, a book about her marriage troubles and decision to learn how to butcher meat.  I admire Powell's ability to undertake immense projects for her own self-help, but I'm not sure if I want to read about her infidelity after falling in love with her husband in her last book.  We shall see.

I've paused the film because I cannot for the life of me stop feeling guilty over what I should be doing right now. I should wash the dishes. I should wash myself. I should wash the kitchen floor. I should tidy up and take out the trash and vacuum and do laundry.  I should read a book or write a letter or organize a closet.  I should really do all of these things.  

But it's Christmas, and I think I've been good this year.  I'm going to get to these tasks eventually (hopefully as soon as the movie ends) and right now I'm going to enjoy watching Julia Child reunite with her sister in Paris, which might be my favorite part of the movie.