It's a cloudy fall morning. The kind of morning where you want to be in a blanket, with a warm beverage and read all day. Not in the cards for me, but I did come back home after dropping the kids off at school to make my own lunch for the day, and to put my contacts in (neglected on account of the mad rush to leave the house.) Reflecting on the first half hour of the day, I am smiling as the kids were concerned when I told them I was driving without my contacts. I assured them that I could see just fine, it was the details that were a little fuzzy.
* I am thankful for the YMCA and all the kind people that care for my children while I get my endorphins and shower for the day.
* I am thankful for my friend, Kate, who consistently e-mails to ask when my husband and I need a date night.
* I am thankful for great parks that I can walk to with my kids.
* I am thankful for Trader Joe’s with their decent grocery prices and great customer service.
* I am thankful for the children’s librarian who notices when my screaming 2 year-old needs a sticker, as I am frantically trying to check out books.
I am having a small adventure today. I took the bus to the university district for some thrift store shopping, bookstore browsing and quiet warm-beveraging. Whenever I come to this part of town, I am reminded of when Randy and I first moved to Seattle. We lived on a sailboat, conveniently located near UW on Lake Union. Since Randy was (and still is) a PhD student, we took full advantage of football games, student theater, and the local coffee shops. We would walk the Burke-Gilman to this part of town for date nights, or on lazy Saturdays.
Adventure. I am longing for an adventure on par with the kind I like to escape to in my books. I want to journey with Frodo or Maerad for a few days. I want to meet up with a "vegetarian" vampire in a Northwest rainforest. I am wracking my brain to think of the last truly adventurous thing I've done. Yes, yes - embarking on the journey of parenthood is one big adventure. Aside from the initial act of passion, parenthood is not really a throw caution to the wind, to hell with the consequences, now or never sort of adventure. It's more calculated.
There is a magazine having an essay contest on the topic of "When did you realize you were a grown up?", or something to that effect. I like this question. It took me several weeks of thinking about it to come up with a decent response. Whether I submit my thoughts on the matter remain to be seen. I guess we'll see how this rambling comes together.
So I applied for a job less than a week ago. It was the perfect job in many ways. It was a combo of teaching, wilderness instruction, extracurricular assistance in music/theater, language arts (not my major, but a hobby) and advising. It was near my family, so the kids would have been able to hang with Nana and Pop a bunch. It would have been a beautiful place to live for a while, with access to good hiking/skiing within minutes. Randy was supportive, even though he would have been the most impacted by this shift.
So the kids are wearing their "summer jammies" even though it was storming outside last night and into today. We are SO ready for consistent sunshine that we are willing to do our version of a sun dance to the gods - crawling around (in mid-day) on the family room floor in our nightclothes. Only the kids this time, but I wouldn't put it past me given a week of straight rain. The rays did peek through eventually, and I attribute the late afternoon warmth to our stalwart efforts.
As the sister of two airplane enthusiast brothers (goaded on by my father who could look at a dot in the sky and declare make/model), you'd think I would have learned the art of paper airplane construction. I confess that I was never very talented in that arena, despite the fact that both of my brothers were constantly creating these beautiful aerodynamic paper constructions. Hisctorically, I tried a few times, could only make the most basic model and decided not to subject myself to such sibling humiliation again.
Both kids are sleeping right now, and for some reason I am not. Given that, it's time to blog. I have a friend who has three kids, recently moved across the country and still finds time to blog fairly regularly. Thanks to Boston Andrea for inspiration/kick in the pants/call it what you will.
I recall a friend and mentor of mine who talked about living in cold weather. He explained that the more you fight the cold by tensing your muscles, gritting your teeth, cursing as your nose hair freezes, the harder it will be to acclimate. Rather, he suggested, you needed to relax into the air, breathe deeply and allow the beauty of winter to find its way into your body. (I paraphrase.) Or take Yoga, for example. The longer you sit in a stretching pose, however awkward and agonizing it may initially feel, the looser and more comfortable your tightly wound limbs begin to feel.