Overall, TV Turn-Off Week was successful, but we didn't go the whole week.
I didn't cave, exactly. Dylan got sick. Wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night and throw-up-all-over-the-floor sick. Stay-home-from-camp sick. I just couldn't say "no TV" on a sick day, which was Friday.
I had originally said two hours only, then went off to work. He conveniently neglected to mention the time limit to his dad.
It's okay - it meant we got to watch the last episode of Friday Night Lights. Well, RockStar did. I ducked out to get Dylan down and missed the last 10 minutes. We didn't realize it was a 90-minute episode. (Who does that?)
I have to say that it went well, although a large part of the reason is that we had a lot going on - Kung Fu, Youth Group, and other activities that took up the evening.
The arguments over TV have already started back up. In fact, there's one going on in the background as I type this very sentence!
So, did TV Turn-Off Week have an impact? I honestly don't know. It was pretty pleasant for me. And until the TV actually got turned back on, it was pretty well understood that it wasn't coming on. But we seem to be right back to where we started. Dylan would be perfectly happy if the TV were on all the time, if we let him always choose what to watch. It's really almost an addictive situation, and I really don't know what to do about it.
Do we kill the TV? Although I'm not a big TV watcher there are a few things I enjoy and RockStar definitely enjoys it. Would that be spiting the rest of the family? And with videos on the computer, would Dylan just find a way to watch that way?
The latter half of this week has been bad, unrelated to TV Turn-Off Week (I think!?). I'm feeling as bleak as the weather we're having (gray and rainy).
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
TV Turn-Off Week, Days 1 and 2
The week did not have an auspicious beginning. At first I thought everything was okay. Sunday morning I heard Dylan get up and the TV did not go on immediately (as usual) as I had feared.
He did seem to be at loose ends, not quite sure what to do with himself. He finally settled on playing with his yo-yo, although that involved him coming in and getting the loop retied and there were a few other reasons he had to come in while we were still (trying to still be) asleep.
After I got up, things went downhill. He was grouchy, I guess since the morning was so unusual. We have always been very easy going about weekend morning TV. He did try to make his own breakfast out of a kids' cookbook he has, but that didn't go well and he didn't eat most of it. Somehow, we made it to church without ending up in a screaming match.
The afternoon turned out well...because he went to a friend's house. He admitted later that he did watch TV over there, but I guess you have to just go with the flow at someone else's house. When he came home, we played a few different games, but I had to put a halt to it at one point because he was being a terrible sport, insisting that he had to win and that I had to let him win. I was beginning to wonder how he has been at camp all summer, although I know from experience he saves this kind of behavior for us.
We had a bit of melt-down at bedtime, but that was completely unrelated to there not being any TV. In general, I felt as though the first day had gone relatively well, maybe even better than expected.
I was concerned how this morning would turn out. TV time is often a morning reward for good behavior in getting dressed, and is even more lax and accepted in the summertime. Like Sunday, he started off at loose ends but when I suggested he look at the Pokemon cards he had bought at a rummage sale, he got completely absorbed in them.
I was happy - this was how it was supposed to be. TV Turn-Off Week was showing that there is more to life than Scooby Doo and Sponge Bob.
I thought we were in big trouble when, on the way to Kung Fu, he talked about watching TV when we got home. A few weeks ago, following an onslaught of whining, I told him he could watch TV on Mondays after camp if he didn't ask about it at all Tuesday through Thursday. He had it in his mind that this "deal" trumped TV Turn-Off.
With trepidation, I calmly told him it didn't...and he accepted it!
Kung Fu took up some of the evening and I promised him something really special and unique if he was a good boy up to and through dinner. And he was, entertaining himself by practicing Kung Fu moves and playing with Pokemon cards. (Does it count if the cards themselves are from a TV show?)
So after dinner, he did something he had never done before - he walked down the street by himself to by a snowball (aka a slush, a water ice, or a shaved ice, depending on where you are from). RockStar nearly had a heart attack when I told him the plan, but we have tried to raise him as free range as we can, considering we work during the day and he doesn't have friends who live close by.
I had tried to get him to get a snowball on his own before but he had balked. But today, boy, was he ready! He decided to take his scooter, which is not the best idea if you have to carry something back - but it was up to him. And despite all the Nancy Grace's in the world, all was well. He made it to the snowball stand, about 2-1/2 blocks away, crossing a fairly busy cross street, without a hitch. And he bought and paid for the snowball (my money, of course), and returned home in the time allowed (20 minutes). He did drop the cup and crack it, but that didn't rub a bit of the shine off of his proud face!
As for us...it's just plain quiet in the evening after Dylan goes to bed! We had the radio on last night, but tonight it's just silent. Very strange, but pleasant. RockStar turned in early, rather than zoning out on TV and I bet he does again tonight.
Fingers crossed...I hope this is a positive beginning.
Tell me, have you ever had a TV Turn-Off Week?
He did seem to be at loose ends, not quite sure what to do with himself. He finally settled on playing with his yo-yo, although that involved him coming in and getting the loop retied and there were a few other reasons he had to come in while we were still (trying to still be) asleep.
After I got up, things went downhill. He was grouchy, I guess since the morning was so unusual. We have always been very easy going about weekend morning TV. He did try to make his own breakfast out of a kids' cookbook he has, but that didn't go well and he didn't eat most of it. Somehow, we made it to church without ending up in a screaming match.
The afternoon turned out well...because he went to a friend's house. He admitted later that he did watch TV over there, but I guess you have to just go with the flow at someone else's house. When he came home, we played a few different games, but I had to put a halt to it at one point because he was being a terrible sport, insisting that he had to win and that I had to let him win. I was beginning to wonder how he has been at camp all summer, although I know from experience he saves this kind of behavior for us.
We had a bit of melt-down at bedtime, but that was completely unrelated to there not being any TV. In general, I felt as though the first day had gone relatively well, maybe even better than expected.
I was concerned how this morning would turn out. TV time is often a morning reward for good behavior in getting dressed, and is even more lax and accepted in the summertime. Like Sunday, he started off at loose ends but when I suggested he look at the Pokemon cards he had bought at a rummage sale, he got completely absorbed in them.
I was happy - this was how it was supposed to be. TV Turn-Off Week was showing that there is more to life than Scooby Doo and Sponge Bob.
I thought we were in big trouble when, on the way to Kung Fu, he talked about watching TV when we got home. A few weeks ago, following an onslaught of whining, I told him he could watch TV on Mondays after camp if he didn't ask about it at all Tuesday through Thursday. He had it in his mind that this "deal" trumped TV Turn-Off.
With trepidation, I calmly told him it didn't...and he accepted it!
Kung Fu took up some of the evening and I promised him something really special and unique if he was a good boy up to and through dinner. And he was, entertaining himself by practicing Kung Fu moves and playing with Pokemon cards. (Does it count if the cards themselves are from a TV show?)
So after dinner, he did something he had never done before - he walked down the street by himself to by a snowball (aka a slush, a water ice, or a shaved ice, depending on where you are from). RockStar nearly had a heart attack when I told him the plan, but we have tried to raise him as free range as we can, considering we work during the day and he doesn't have friends who live close by.
I had tried to get him to get a snowball on his own before but he had balked. But today, boy, was he ready! He decided to take his scooter, which is not the best idea if you have to carry something back - but it was up to him. And despite all the Nancy Grace's in the world, all was well. He made it to the snowball stand, about 2-1/2 blocks away, crossing a fairly busy cross street, without a hitch. And he bought and paid for the snowball (my money, of course), and returned home in the time allowed (20 minutes). He did drop the cup and crack it, but that didn't rub a bit of the shine off of his proud face!
At one point this evening, he did say that it was weird to be in the living room without the TV on. Never mind that we do not leave it on all the time and watching it in the evenings is a Friday night and weekend thing. But I think it's more the idea of it...even the idea that begging for it was off limits. I'm proud that he respected it and didn't ask me.
As for us...it's just plain quiet in the evening after Dylan goes to bed! We had the radio on last night, but tonight it's just silent. Very strange, but pleasant. RockStar turned in early, rather than zoning out on TV and I bet he does again tonight.
Fingers crossed...I hope this is a positive beginning.
Tell me, have you ever had a TV Turn-Off Week?
Friday, July 8, 2011
The End of an Era
Unless you were hiding under a rock, you know that the last space shuttle lifted off into space today.
I still can't believe that's it. That there will be no more shuttle lift offs and that there's no next-generation plan to replace the shuttle. That we have been reduced to being taxi passengers on the spacecraft of other countries. That we, as a country, seemingly are not as interested as innovation and exploration as we once were.
I grew up in the era of SkyLab, the first space station. It was practically science fiction at the time, but I was captivated. It might have helped that my mom was a rabid sci fi fan from way back. One of the original Trekkies. She brought me up to have a healthy respect for the possibilities of space and the importance of dreams.
Whether by osmosis or just natural selection, Dylan has been enamored with space since before he could talk. I found an old paperback Little Golden book about space and astronauts at a used book sale when he was about 3 or 4 and he would have me read it over and over. When his preschool class was invited to bring in their favorite book, that's the book he brought in.
At the time, his teacher told me that preschoolers were too young to understand space and recommended that we find another book. While we switched it out for a book about trains (a lesser obsession), I knew his teacher was wrong about kids not understanding about space, at least as far as Dylan was concerned. Somehow Dylan always knew and understood.
In second grade, his class published a book called Dream Big. Each child in his class wrote about what they wanted to be when they grew up. There were rock stars, football and soccer players, and teachers, But Dylan chose scientist as his future career...a scientist who studies space.
So I can't help but feel saddened by the last shuttle launch.
I'm even sadder that the space program has been left adrift.
And heartbroken, wondering if my little scientist will even get the chance to one day live out his dream if space innovation and exploration are no longer valued in America.
Dreams are important. Innovation is integral. We need both to feed the imaginations and creativity of our youth, the same youth for whom we are cutting educational programs. We need dreams and innovation to feed our very future.
 |
| Photo courtesy NASA/Bill Ingalls |
I still can't believe that's it. That there will be no more shuttle lift offs and that there's no next-generation plan to replace the shuttle. That we have been reduced to being taxi passengers on the spacecraft of other countries. That we, as a country, seemingly are not as interested as innovation and exploration as we once were.
Whether by osmosis or just natural selection, Dylan has been enamored with space since before he could talk. I found an old paperback Little Golden book about space and astronauts at a used book sale when he was about 3 or 4 and he would have me read it over and over. When his preschool class was invited to bring in their favorite book, that's the book he brought in.
At the time, his teacher told me that preschoolers were too young to understand space and recommended that we find another book. While we switched it out for a book about trains (a lesser obsession), I knew his teacher was wrong about kids not understanding about space, at least as far as Dylan was concerned. Somehow Dylan always knew and understood.
In second grade, his class published a book called Dream Big. Each child in his class wrote about what they wanted to be when they grew up. There were rock stars, football and soccer players, and teachers, But Dylan chose scientist as his future career...a scientist who studies space.
So I can't help but feel saddened by the last shuttle launch.
I'm even sadder that the space program has been left adrift.
And heartbroken, wondering if my little scientist will even get the chance to one day live out his dream if space innovation and exploration are no longer valued in America.
Dreams are important. Innovation is integral. We need both to feed the imaginations and creativity of our youth, the same youth for whom we are cutting educational programs. We need dreams and innovation to feed our very future.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
The Boob Tube
Next week will be TV Turn-off Week in our house.
Yes, I know that the actual Screen-free Week was some time back in April, but it just wasn't a good time for us. I realize that sounds like a cop out; like we waited to turn off the TV in the summertime when a lot of the first-run network shows aren't even on. But the reality is that it's needed much more now than it was in April.
Since...oh...forever, I've maintained pretty consistent TV rules with Dylan. TV is allowed in the morning once he's dressed and ready for school. But no TV in the evening on a school night. Yes, no TV. I find we are in a definite minority on that one. Most parents tell me that want to cut back on their kids' evening viewing. For us, however, I find TV is nothing but a negative distraction during the school year.
You'll see that school figures heavily in the rules above. The supposed reality is that the rules are year-round. But the real reality is that we do cave in a lot more easily in the summertime. It's a lot harder to insist on no TV when there's no homework, I'm trying to get something done like cooking dinner, and Dylan is at loose ends but hot and tired from summer day camp. I'd say TV ends up on in the evenings before bedtime at least once or twice during the week, not counting Fridays, when it is allowed.
That said, TV has become a major issue. I get the request to watch TV nearly every day. I say that as though it's a polite inquiry followed by obedient acceptance of my decision. In actuality, it involves lots of whining, complaining, and the occasional foot stomp. I've been told I've ruined his day, even his life. There's really more drama in our living room than there is on TV.
It's funny, really, that TV has gotten such a bad name around our house. When I was Dylan's age, I think I already had a TV in my bedroom (a 12-inch black and white set). I watched as much TV as I wanted. I knew what time it was by what was on TV, and I considered the characters on my favorite TV shows (shows like Hogan's Heroes, Happy Days, Starsky and Hutch, and Barnaby Jones) almost like friends. It was not uncommon for me to have TV put me to sleep.
It almost makes me feel as mean as Dylan thinks I am.
My reversal is fueled by several things. For one, I know more than my mom did then. Heck, we all know more than my mom did then, including my mom. Study after study screams the ill effects of TV watching to us. I guess it's ironic that the more we hear about how bad TV is, the more channels they offer us.
I want to say that TV is a lot worse now than it was then, but really, it's not like I learned much about World War II from watching Hogan's Heroes. Starsky and Hutch was more about the red Grand Torino with the snazzy lighting stripe careening around corners than anything else. It's not like I was watching Masterpiece Theater or Nova.
That said, there weren't a lot of shows really targeted at kids and only kids. Sure, Little House on the Prairie (another favorite) was family TV, but Hannah Montana was never meant for kids and adults to both enjoy.
I've also seen a dramatic shift in kids' television just in the nine years Dylan has been alive. The majority of his TV viewing has been on Disney Channel, and I've seen them go from having pre-teen "sit-coms" in the evening to having them all day. And the shows have gone from the The Suite Life of Zack and Cody with the kids living with mom to The Suite Life on Deck with mom living somewhere else while the kids float around the world and cause trouble on a cruise ship. At least Billy Ray Cyrus was a pretty common factor and relatively stable voice in Hannah Montana. Disney's newer Shake It Up rarely features adults (the host of the dance show definitely doesn't count). When they do have an adult character make a token appearance, the kids are completely disrespectful, with the adults just foils for the laughter. Only, I'm not laughing.
Even on a cartoon, Disney's Fish Hooks, there are no parents in the fish tank world of the pet store. It's a sad state of affairs when Disney is competing for Nickelodeon's audience by mimicking all of their shows. Sponge Bob meet Fish Hooks. iCarly meet Shake It Up.
Of course, the biggest argument against TV is all the things it replaces. When I was Dylan's age, I was already engrossed in books. While I kept track of my TV shows, I also spent a lot of time reading, doing crafts, and playing in the woods in back of my house.
So we are going to spend the week - all of us - not watching TV. Since I really don't get to watch much as it is (what with meetings, running after Dylan, and RockStar manning the remote), I don't expect it will be too difficult for me. And since it is summer, RockStar will probably survive.
I know it will be difficult for Dylan at first. But I'm hoping it ends up being one of his favorite weeks of the summer.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Crime and Punishment
Sometimes, you have to pay the consequences.
I'm lucky because Dylan does not a bad kid and genuinely likes to do the right thing. But even for the best kid, it's not possible to grow up doing all the right things, all the time. There's the desire to rebel, mistakes made, or just bad decisions.
Sometimes, one or all of those involves lying.
Lying is big to me. I'm not talking about "Gee, your hair looks nice!" or "I'm sorry, we have plans." kind of lies. To me, that kind of lying really is acceptable. Hurting someone can be the bigger crime.
But straight on answering a question with an untruth is completely unacceptable in my book.
Again, I'm lucky. Dylan is an honest kid. So honest, he'd be the kind to ask "What did you do to your hair?" with a horrified expression on his face.
But every kid lies sooner or later about something.
He has had two previous occasions where he did not tell the truth to a direct question. I honestly cannot remember the exact situations. For the first, he was let off with a strong warning and it was a long time before we faced it again. The next time, there was a punishment. I think it was missing TV.
Not long ago, we had Lying Crime #3.
Dylan had been "cooking" that afternoon. That is, he had pulled out all kinds of pots and pans from the kitchen, and was mixing "ingredients" together. The ingredients consisted of some blueberries we had picked at a farm and a couple of bananas we had just gotten at the store. I warned him that I didn't want food wasted and that whatever he made, he had to consume.
I don't think he used many berries (he's not a big blueberry fan) but he cut up two bananas into thick slices. I warned him again that he had to eat whatever he had used and he assured me he would.
Later, the cut bananas and the various kitchen implements were strewn all over the kitchen, and I told him he had to clean everything up and eat the bananas. He whined at first that he needed help to clean up, but I reminded him that he was able to get everything out without any help.
A little later, the kitchen was more or less back to normal and the bananas were nowhere in sight. I asked if he had eaten them. "Yes," he said loudly.
Fatal error.
When I went to throw something away, there in the garbage can were the banana slices. I was furious.
I asked him to step away from the TV and come talk to me. I don't think he even remembered the lie and came along willingly. But once I started talking, he remembered all too well and knew he was in trouble. He tried to make it no big deal, and tried to say he "didn't know," but I had reminded him too well and too often and, worse, had had loudly answered me in the affirmative when I had asked him directly. There was no escaping.
I made the mistake of saying we were going to discuss punishments. He took that to mean that he could decide what his punishment would be. But as the judge and jury, I declared he would lose two days of TV. I think if I said I was going to cut off his arm in punishment, he would not have yelled as loudly.
He was devastated, especially because the punishment was starting immediately. Keep in mind, he was 15 minutes from bedtime, so that was not a big loss. He cried and fussed and generally made the evening difficult for a while. Then calmed down. I thought we were past it.
Nope. Next morning he was at it again, only with more energy from a good night's sleep. He wanted to decide the punishment. He wanted it to be no Cartoon Network. Keep in mind, he only has limited approval to watch a couple of carefully selected Cartoon Network shows since most of their programming is aimed at teenagers and the ads are ridiculous and non-stop. I held firm - No TV.
There was much angst and gnashing of teeth. Even threats. I was told I was the worst mother. The meanest. He also hated his life. And wondered why he had to be this way. He insisted he would not go to camp. It was very dramatic and, worse, it was making me very late for work.
Much to my chagrin, I finally gave him a shorter sentence. One day of TV loss, WITH the stipulation that he understand that parents are allowed to make punishments at their discretion in any and all future proceedings. He agreed...but we'll see when it happens.
Of course, I'm hopeful that it won't, but I know that's not possible. He's a kid. He's especially a kid with some issues, and self control is one of them. I don't like being the jailer, yet I'm proud because I never yelled throughout all of it. I did give in a little, but only to clear the slate and move on. I want him to sense fairness and I don't want to stand on something if it's going to make all of our lives miserable. And obviously, even one day of lost TV seemed to be excessive. (Amazing in that he is not allowed a lot of TV to begin with.)
It's not always easy being the judge, jury, and jailer.
I'm lucky because Dylan does not a bad kid and genuinely likes to do the right thing. But even for the best kid, it's not possible to grow up doing all the right things, all the time. There's the desire to rebel, mistakes made, or just bad decisions.
Sometimes, one or all of those involves lying.
Lying is big to me. I'm not talking about "Gee, your hair looks nice!" or "I'm sorry, we have plans." kind of lies. To me, that kind of lying really is acceptable. Hurting someone can be the bigger crime.
But straight on answering a question with an untruth is completely unacceptable in my book.
Again, I'm lucky. Dylan is an honest kid. So honest, he'd be the kind to ask "What did you do to your hair?" with a horrified expression on his face.
But every kid lies sooner or later about something.
He has had two previous occasions where he did not tell the truth to a direct question. I honestly cannot remember the exact situations. For the first, he was let off with a strong warning and it was a long time before we faced it again. The next time, there was a punishment. I think it was missing TV.
Not long ago, we had Lying Crime #3.
Dylan had been "cooking" that afternoon. That is, he had pulled out all kinds of pots and pans from the kitchen, and was mixing "ingredients" together. The ingredients consisted of some blueberries we had picked at a farm and a couple of bananas we had just gotten at the store. I warned him that I didn't want food wasted and that whatever he made, he had to consume.
I don't think he used many berries (he's not a big blueberry fan) but he cut up two bananas into thick slices. I warned him again that he had to eat whatever he had used and he assured me he would.
Later, the cut bananas and the various kitchen implements were strewn all over the kitchen, and I told him he had to clean everything up and eat the bananas. He whined at first that he needed help to clean up, but I reminded him that he was able to get everything out without any help.
A little later, the kitchen was more or less back to normal and the bananas were nowhere in sight. I asked if he had eaten them. "Yes," he said loudly.
Fatal error.
When I went to throw something away, there in the garbage can were the banana slices. I was furious.
I asked him to step away from the TV and come talk to me. I don't think he even remembered the lie and came along willingly. But once I started talking, he remembered all too well and knew he was in trouble. He tried to make it no big deal, and tried to say he "didn't know," but I had reminded him too well and too often and, worse, had had loudly answered me in the affirmative when I had asked him directly. There was no escaping.
I made the mistake of saying we were going to discuss punishments. He took that to mean that he could decide what his punishment would be. But as the judge and jury, I declared he would lose two days of TV. I think if I said I was going to cut off his arm in punishment, he would not have yelled as loudly.
He was devastated, especially because the punishment was starting immediately. Keep in mind, he was 15 minutes from bedtime, so that was not a big loss. He cried and fussed and generally made the evening difficult for a while. Then calmed down. I thought we were past it.
Nope. Next morning he was at it again, only with more energy from a good night's sleep. He wanted to decide the punishment. He wanted it to be no Cartoon Network. Keep in mind, he only has limited approval to watch a couple of carefully selected Cartoon Network shows since most of their programming is aimed at teenagers and the ads are ridiculous and non-stop. I held firm - No TV.
There was much angst and gnashing of teeth. Even threats. I was told I was the worst mother. The meanest. He also hated his life. And wondered why he had to be this way. He insisted he would not go to camp. It was very dramatic and, worse, it was making me very late for work.
Much to my chagrin, I finally gave him a shorter sentence. One day of TV loss, WITH the stipulation that he understand that parents are allowed to make punishments at their discretion in any and all future proceedings. He agreed...but we'll see when it happens.
Of course, I'm hopeful that it won't, but I know that's not possible. He's a kid. He's especially a kid with some issues, and self control is one of them. I don't like being the jailer, yet I'm proud because I never yelled throughout all of it. I did give in a little, but only to clear the slate and move on. I want him to sense fairness and I don't want to stand on something if it's going to make all of our lives miserable. And obviously, even one day of lost TV seemed to be excessive. (Amazing in that he is not allowed a lot of TV to begin with.)
It's not always easy being the judge, jury, and jailer.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
What I Need
I have not been purposely ignoring this blog.
Rather, I've been otherwise occupied. With WORK. And Spraining My Ankle. And just everyday stuff that comes up even though it's summertime.
So, no, I haven't been just goofing off.
While spraining my ankle was both unplanned and something that took me away from my normal, everyday routine, work has been ALL-CONSUMING.
For one thing, I'm to complete a 52-page publication by the end of June and I'm nowhere near where I should be. That would be bad enough, but...I'm doing it all by myself because my assistant resigned.
It wasn't that she didn't like me or the job. She's moving on with her life, moving to DC so her husband can go to grad school. It's a new adventure for a young girl.
OK, even though I love New Orleans, I'm the teensiest bit jealous, just for the change of scenery, change of routine.
So, I'm doing my job. And I'm doing her job. Oh, and I'm interviewing, which is like a whole 'nother person's job. There truly are not enough hours in the day.
The Saturday after I sprained my ankle, there I was, laid up in bed, ankle up on a pillow, encased in ice, yet, I'm on my laptop tip tapping away. (Actually, I got more done than I do in the office.)
I'm managing to keep a brave face amidst all of it. The ankle is healing well. I'm getting stuff done, even if I'm working night and day. Thankfully school is out and homework is not an issue. And I'm even keeping up with the church committee I'm on to seek a new pastor, which means I'm looking at resumes for work and I'm looking at resumes for church.
Let's just hope I don't ask a potential candidate what their beliefs on same-sex marriage are!
But I had something like an epiphany the other day. I spend a lot of time wanting a day to myself to write. To further that other part of myself that dreams of being a published writer. And that is necessary.
But that is not what I need right now.
No, what I need is mental rest. Not an hour's nap, or reading before bed, or even a single day off. I need a few days where I don't have to do anything. Where I'm not reviewing candidates, not editing, not seriously multi-tasking.
Instead, I need a day where I read all day. Maybe I surf silly things on the net. When I even just skim trashy magazines and find out not only what the stars are doing, but who the heck they are!
I don't see it. I don't see a day or days on the horizon where that will happen. The publication has to be finished and edited and proofed and printed. All the other things that have to get done during the day have to get done. An assistant has to be selected, and then go through all the corporate gobbeldy-gook, then hired and trained. The pastor candidates have to be interviewed and visits arranged and hired.
I know. I know rest is necessary. I know you have to take care of yourself and I am a huge proponent of self-care. But there are times - and this is one of them - when you really don't have options. And I don't. I have to keep going until several of the pieces of the puzzle get fitted in to place, so that at least everyone has a good idea of what the picture is.
Then I can take time for me. Then, I can have mental rest. Then I can just be.
Rather, I've been otherwise occupied. With WORK. And Spraining My Ankle. And just everyday stuff that comes up even though it's summertime.
So, no, I haven't been just goofing off.
While spraining my ankle was both unplanned and something that took me away from my normal, everyday routine, work has been ALL-CONSUMING.
For one thing, I'm to complete a 52-page publication by the end of June and I'm nowhere near where I should be. That would be bad enough, but...I'm doing it all by myself because my assistant resigned.
It wasn't that she didn't like me or the job. She's moving on with her life, moving to DC so her husband can go to grad school. It's a new adventure for a young girl.
OK, even though I love New Orleans, I'm the teensiest bit jealous, just for the change of scenery, change of routine.
So, I'm doing my job. And I'm doing her job. Oh, and I'm interviewing, which is like a whole 'nother person's job. There truly are not enough hours in the day.
The Saturday after I sprained my ankle, there I was, laid up in bed, ankle up on a pillow, encased in ice, yet, I'm on my laptop tip tapping away. (Actually, I got more done than I do in the office.)
I'm managing to keep a brave face amidst all of it. The ankle is healing well. I'm getting stuff done, even if I'm working night and day. Thankfully school is out and homework is not an issue. And I'm even keeping up with the church committee I'm on to seek a new pastor, which means I'm looking at resumes for work and I'm looking at resumes for church.
Let's just hope I don't ask a potential candidate what their beliefs on same-sex marriage are!
But I had something like an epiphany the other day. I spend a lot of time wanting a day to myself to write. To further that other part of myself that dreams of being a published writer. And that is necessary.
But that is not what I need right now.
No, what I need is mental rest. Not an hour's nap, or reading before bed, or even a single day off. I need a few days where I don't have to do anything. Where I'm not reviewing candidates, not editing, not seriously multi-tasking.
Instead, I need a day where I read all day. Maybe I surf silly things on the net. When I even just skim trashy magazines and find out not only what the stars are doing, but who the heck they are!
I don't see it. I don't see a day or days on the horizon where that will happen. The publication has to be finished and edited and proofed and printed. All the other things that have to get done during the day have to get done. An assistant has to be selected, and then go through all the corporate gobbeldy-gook, then hired and trained. The pastor candidates have to be interviewed and visits arranged and hired.
There's just so much!
I know. I know rest is necessary. I know you have to take care of yourself and I am a huge proponent of self-care. But there are times - and this is one of them - when you really don't have options. And I don't. I have to keep going until several of the pieces of the puzzle get fitted in to place, so that at least everyone has a good idea of what the picture is.
Then I can take time for me. Then, I can have mental rest. Then I can just be.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Harvest Time
I would never make it as a farmer.
While there is a hippy chick inside of my yearning to get out and live organically, make my own yogurt, hang my laundry on the line, and live off grid, the reality is that I am just not much of a prairie wife.
That said, I have tried every year for several years now to grow a spring vegetable garden. The first year we were overrun with worms that ate the plants faster than we could pick them.
The next year, we planted too late and they baked in the sun. I think we had one tomato.
Despite our lack of success, every year I get the urge to try again. Quitting has never been a part of my vocabulary.
And I'm proud to say, we have something to harvest! Check it out:
And there are more ripening! I'm really proud of our progress.
I like the idea of showing Dylan the process of food growing and thankfully tomatoes are something he really likes. I've heard parents say that growing vegetables made their kids like the vegetables, but I've heard the same things about kids preparing meals and that certainly hasn't been the case with Dylan.
That hippy chick in me really would like to live out an Animal, Vegetable, Miracle scenario that my favorite author Barbara Kingsolver describes in her book. But for now, and maybe forever, this is our success at urban gardening.
Tomato anyone?
While there is a hippy chick inside of my yearning to get out and live organically, make my own yogurt, hang my laundry on the line, and live off grid, the reality is that I am just not much of a prairie wife.
That said, I have tried every year for several years now to grow a spring vegetable garden. The first year we were overrun with worms that ate the plants faster than we could pick them.
The next year, we planted too late and they baked in the sun. I think we had one tomato.
Despite our lack of success, every year I get the urge to try again. Quitting has never been a part of my vocabulary.
And I'm proud to say, we have something to harvest! Check it out:
And there are more ripening! I'm really proud of our progress.
I like the idea of showing Dylan the process of food growing and thankfully tomatoes are something he really likes. I've heard parents say that growing vegetables made their kids like the vegetables, but I've heard the same things about kids preparing meals and that certainly hasn't been the case with Dylan.
That hippy chick in me really would like to live out an Animal, Vegetable, Miracle scenario that my favorite author Barbara Kingsolver describes in her book. But for now, and maybe forever, this is our success at urban gardening.
Tomato anyone?
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