Archive: December 2009

It’s my last progress report on my three resolutions for 2009! You will all be shocked when I tell you that I went back to each of my resolution reviews and gave myself a grade for each of my goals (0 for fail; 1 for pass) to result in a score out of a possible 12 points. I found myself fantasizing about a more detailed scoring rubric and accompanying graphs, but even I have to draw the line somewhere.

Every day, I will clean for 15 minutes.
In December, I kept the house reasonably clean, but nothing up to the standards of everyday maintenance I so boldly set forth in January. Of course, as I type, our bathroom is a swamp and the living room is in dire need of dusting, so … yeah. Practically speaking, I managed the housekeeping, but as per the letter of the law — fail.

Overall, I scored 5 points on this resolution, which is far lower than I thought it would be. Ugh. It doesn’t jive with the heightened level of cleanliness I think I maintained this year. I started off strong in the beginning of the year, lagged in the summer, and then resigned myself to failure at the end. Part of the goal was for me to open my eyes to what needs to be cleaned around the house, and that definitely happened, but I still feel myself turning a blind eye to the tasks I hate, like dusting. That’s not good.

In 2010, I have a new plan to set up cleaning blocks of time so that I can reward myself after a longer stint (maybe an hour or 90 minutes). I plan to set up cleaning caddies in both bathrooms so that everything I need is where I need it, including boxes of Swiffer dusters in the bedroom and the living room. You know, because dragging myself to the linen closet and lugging around the cleaning supplies is such a burden. But I hope the physical reconfiguration and reallocation of tasks will make the maintenance less daunting.

Every week, I will write and send my grandmother a note.
Bless you, slam-dunk resolution, for buoying my self-esteem every month. Thanks to my handy Outlook reminder, I had another successful month of writing notes, culminating with seeing my grandmother at Christmas. I was in her kitchen when I noticed that she had taped the hokey membership card I made her last year (for the fictional Note of the Week Club) right next to her phone. Is that not the sweetest?

This goal was the only one to score the full 12 points. I’m glad I kept up with it despite occasional lapses in material, but it was fun to buy cards for those quirky non-holidays and hunt down postcards from wherever we traveled. For 2010, I have downgraded my grandmother’s “membership” to the Every-Other-Week Club, and I hope to have more substantive content as a result. All in all, go me!

Every month, I will take at least a few hours just for myself.
In December, I went to the gym at work or took a class at least twice a week, and I can feel the positive effects from it. Those slots of time help me refocus my brain on something other than reference format or serial commas, and I think I’m gradually gaining strength and endurance. It’s helpful to have small physical goals to work on, even though lengthy (that is, more than one minute) jump rope sessions elude me. Even though my alone time didn’t take the form I expected, like reading or knitting, I’m glad the gym is serving this purpose, too.

Overall, this goal garnered 9 points, which is higher than I expected. The beginning of the year was less successful because I hadn’t trained my brain yet to look for those pockets of time, but even now, the whole mental exercise seems odd. I think it’s something I need to continually attempt, especially when in times of stress. It’s also against my nature to claim time for myself, and I need to remind myself that it’s not so much a selfish act as a necessary priority.

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When I calculate my total success rate (26/36 points; 72%), not counting my 2 5Ks and the dubious CSA participation, that feels about right. I know it’s not all about the numbers, but they help give shape to what can be a nebulous goal of self-improvement. Really, I’m satisfied with the heightened awareness I have of the state of my surroundings, the correspondence I keep, and the time I spend alone. It would be nice if the numbers were a little nicer, though. No gold star for me, just a hearty pat on the back and a ribbon for participation, but that’s okay. At least I wasn’t on the bleachers this year.

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Now is the time of round-ups, reflections, and retrospectives, but 2009 was fairly calm. The most exciting things for us were a trip to Denver and a kitchen renovation, which are the only two items I can muster when people ask me what’s new, expecting baby-related news. But I’m fine with that. I am just as happy to observe, congratulate, and commiserate on others’ excitement.

I’ll be back on Monday with my to-do’s for 2010, but today is for lazing around, making pizza for dinner, and watching episodes of The Office until we fall asleep on the couch embarrassingly early. Oh, the excitement!

Happy New Year to you and yours!

The year I started fourth grade, my parents decided to move me from the private Christian school I’d attended thus far into the public school system. Conveniently, this transition coincided when our district was introducing a new elementary school, so I wouldn’t be the only new kid. That summer, my mom and I visited my school for the upcoming fall so I would know where my rooms were (I’d be switching classes for the first time — oh, dread), and it so happened that my math teacher, Mrs. P, was in her room, preparing for the year. We popped in to say hi, and Mrs. P was warm and welcoming. She introduced herself and her daughter, Dawn, who was sitting at one of the desks, drinking a can of Mug root beer. She had curly brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and wore glasses. Dawn was my age, Mrs. P told us, but she would be attending the new elementary school. We nodded quietly at each other. My mom ushered me out of the room, and we continued on the tour.

As part of my new school, I had tested into the gifted and talented program, which took fourth- and fifth-graders out of their classes for of “enrichment activities” at the high school once a week. At my first day at Enrichment, Dawn was there, too! So, throughout fourth and fifth grade, we solved math puzzles, did miniature research papers, and went to nerd camp. We remained friends throughout high school, despite not having classes together until the ninth grade. Our schedules mirrored each other: Dawn was the marching band drum major, and I was the color guard captain; she was the stage manager of the school plays, and I was the dance captain; and we were both on the math team. There were a few bumps in our friendship due to petty teenager drama, but we came through it in one piece. Our birthdays are one week apart, and we always call to check in. Dawn is one of those friends I talk to about twice a year, and we just pick up where we left off.

Last year, Dawn got engaged! And started medical school in Portland, Oregon! And this year, she got married! On the day after Christmas! In Connecticut!

Um, yeah.

When she called to tell me the date, she was immediately apologetic, but I waved her off. “It’s on the calendar! We will make it work! Let me know if you need anything!” It was understandable, really. She was in school on the other side of the country, and time was limited. Who could blame her?

Practically, it was an ordeal. Christmas is stressful enough without worrying about interstate travel in the winter, and we realized that we’d have to do a lot of fancy footwork in order to take care of Ted, see my family, and trek up to the wedding. The bottom line was that during Christmas “vacation,” we traveled from Pennsylvania to New Jersey to New York to Connecticut to New Jersey to Pennsylvania: five states in five days. My plans included a complicated packing list, a folder of driving directions, a carefully-packed bag of presents for my family, multiple sets of batteries for my camera, instructions on how to navigate the New York subway, regular checks of the weather, and numerous reminders not to forget the wedding card.

It was a lot to manage, but we had so much help along the way. My in-laws took care of Ted for us. My sister made sure our presents were easily luggable for the various modes of public transport we were using. My parents booked us a hotel room five minutes away from the wedding venue to make our transition easier.

After all that, the wedding was really lovely. It was held at a cozy, rustic restaurant, and Dawn and Matt only had one attendant each. After a quick, heartfelt ceremony, we tramped upstairs to a larger reception area, where there was a huge spread of appetizers ranging from raw oysters to sushi to grilled lamb chops. For the first time, we got to sit at a table near the bride and groom, so Amy (the matron of honor), Dawn and I got to talk more than I expected. We compared notes: I had been married for almost five years. Amy had a second baby on the way. Dawn was married and almost a doctor. What the heck happened since high school? It boggled the mind.

Halfway through the reception, the weight of travel bore down on JG and me. We sat at our table with glasses of water, listening to songs like, “Shout!” and “The Twist,” but we couldn’t bring ourselves to join in. No, we agreed, we couldn’t handle those. It was time to turn in. We said our goodbyes, and Dawn and Mrs. P were both effusive in telling us how glad they were to see us. I’m so glad we made the trip to attend this wedding, and the best part was seeing Dawn and Matt so happy.

Over the next two days, we returned to New Jersey to retrieve Ted and finally landed back at home. It was all I could do to unpack, do laundry, and reassemble myself for the next work day. We ordered Chinese food and watched the Community marathon, and I fell into a dazed stupor. Everything we did was necessary and good, but man, Christmas did me in this year.

Today is my last functional day before Christmas and all that it entails, and this year, it entails a lot. It’s the most hectic Christmas I can remember in a long time, and that includes the year we hosted. At least, then, we were at home and in control of what would happened, but now, I’m watching the weather, making and checking lists, and otherwise trying not to fret.

I feel guilty because I know I haven’t prepared myself for what I like to be a reflective time. I prefer my Christmases quiet and contemplative, not hustly-bustly. Generally, by this time of the month, I’ve come to that placid place in my mind, but as of yet, it eludes me. Even with the weekend’s unexpected rest, my mind is still racing. If that weren’t enough, there is also the annual elephant that wanders into the room at this time of year: Kip’s birthday is Christmas Eve. A whole mess of memories usually wafts into my brain, tangled and unsorted, and I end up feeling mopey from missing him and feeling sad about his family. And then I feel guilty again because I’m not focusing on Christmas. And then my mind swings back to whatever is next on the to-do list.

I’m all mixed up inside, like my worries and thoughts are jostling for attention. Listen to me! What about me? I’m important, too! Don’t forget about me! I can’t figure out how to tune things out and focus. Part of my struggle is that the schedule dictates that I will never be fully at rest until we are done. The other part is that I have yet to accept that.

Tonight,  JG is making mussels and fries for dinner, and we’ll exchange presents with each other because our weekend is so crazy. We’ll break our no-TV-on-Wednesdays rule to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas. At the end, I plan to sing with my head tilted back, like the kids. The tree lights will be on, and I think Ted will snuggle up with us. It will be warm and quiet in our living room, and in my mind, I hope.

We didn’t believe
The forecast: fifteen inches?
Then it all started

And it didn’t stop.
We had no plans this weekend,
So we hunkered down.

We watched the newest
Harry Potter (kind of slow),
The Hangover (shrug),

And episodes of
30 Rock, curled up under
Blankets and Slanket.

We ate no-knead bread,
Butternut squash soup, pretzels,
Mushroom lasagna —

Heavy comfort foods
Perfect for a weekend spent
Cozy, comatose.

I baked two batches
Of brownies for gift-giving
And finished a book.

We wore comfy clothes,
Watched Penn State make history,
And slept in, of course.

We watched a squirrel
Dodge flakes, and Ted gazed outside
Oh-so-longingly.

When we ventured out,
Ted frolicked and leaped around
In snow past my knees.

Not a day off, sure,
But these two snowbound days were
Just what we needed.