Yes, I haven’t written here lately. Why? I’ve been busy already.
Doing what, you wonder?
WEEeeellll…cleaning my house, for starters. (BO-ring, says the crowd.)
Building yet another site for yet another volunteer effort or two. Surely my budding diva deserves her own vanity domain, while her jazz band could use a new shiny site as well, no? (Ahem – still boring, Richter. Got anything else?)
Getting my girl teenager off to high school every morning – which apparently requires homemade egg/cheese/meat sandwiches lovingly made with my own two hands. Thankfully, it does NOT require getting her to said school – a task I was able to set aside after 12+ years of managing school arrivals for one or both of my kids.
With that extra 20-30 minutes of peace & quiet before I need to leave for work, I’ve been knocking off small house tasks while I’m still alert enough to polish them off speedily. It’s not unusual these days to have the dishwasher get unloaded in the AM, or loaded up with dirty dishes from the AM breakfast endeavors. And the peace? Not to mention the quiet? Heavenly, after years of moving into harangue mode to prod one kid or the other out the damn door already.
And because my chores are largely done before I leave for work? That leaves evenings free to schlep @CouldBeSun home from jazz band rehearsals 3 nights a week. Build in a quick grocery store trip, or fling a load of clothes in the washer. Make food – actual edible food that’s recognizable as such – for myself, if not the kids. (What is this with all of the domestic crap, says the crowd. Get to the whole #stupidhappy part already, will you?)
But more often than not, I’m spending my evenings with #MrWhimGrin. Even if it’s in bits and pieces, or mostly PG – a quick visit here while I’m folding clothes, or making dinner, for example. He has all kinds of positive things to say about the gradual improvements he’s seen around my abode as the days progress, while I love the way he gives my kids playful grief about the way they abuse their mother, or delights in my daughter’s budding musical career.
(Naturally, the kids both think he’s cool – not to mention a much better cook than I am. Even after just one Sunday BBQ. Ingrates.)
While the #whimstomps are very definitely a thing of the past, we’re getting out for mini strolls. Or dancing on Thursday nights. (#MrWhimGrin does love himself some dancing, he does!)
And it got me thinking the other day – why does it feel like my life is settling into a very nice groove right now, even when so many pieces of it are still in flux (the whole car accident aftermath, the ongoing financial stress, the shifting into a new high school way of thinking, etc. etc. etc.)???
If you tell me it’s cause I now have a guy in my life, I’m going to get annoyed – after all, I’ve been the poster child for not needing a man in order to make my life complete.
But come to think of it, the happiness I get – just from being with him, the way my adult batteries get recharged with him (nope, not talking about THAT – get your mind out of the gutter already), or the simple support I get when life throws me a curveball (who was the guy who came to change my tire on the side of the road at 1 am this morning? Points if you said MWG…) – well, that all counts for a hell of a lot, I guess.
And all of that makes it easier for me to carve out time to clean my home work space. Or rearrange our dining area. Or haul out tons and tons of no-longer-needed crap. Not to mention that I’m much more patient when dealing with the ever-escalating teenage drama that comes with raising a daughter in high school. Or willing to adjust my evening plans to accomodate my kid’s social schedule if it means I have someone else to keep me company on the never-ending #momtaxi runs.
So I have – or I am. And life continues to get increasingly better, day after day.
(Even when dealing with things like flat tires at 1 am, or today’s teenage drama du jour.)
Here’s the TL;dr version of this waaaay-too-long post: Want to get things done? Get yourself happy already first. Guy not necessarily required – but in this case, certainly didn’t hurt!
* GSD – Get Shit Done.