This is what a feminist writes like:

One of the challenges of being home all the time is that almost anything can be done at any time. It's really difficult to get around to cleaning the bathroom if it doesn't matter if it gets done now, or in three hours or tomorrow or whenever.

And that problem tends to spill over into other things. It's hard to make that phone call if there's not a fixed time on it, and then time gets away from you and the call doesn't get made.

I've been finding that that fluidity problem affects my work schedule, and playing games with the kids, exercising, and, frankly, almost everything. This is a good part of the reason that I don't get my personal writing done on a regular basis, I can do it at any time so I never end up doing it.

However, and this is HUGE, I am having some luck with both writing and exercise lately and I can clearly see why that is.

I've been going to the gym with Mark on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays for the last few weeks (and for twice a week before that), but last week I had too much to do on Wednesday to go. I figured I would just go Thursday and Saturday instead, but when I mentioned it to Mark, he said that he was only going to go on Friday because if you have a schedule you need to stick to it and it's better to miss a workout that screw up the schedule. That was when the lightbulb came on, OF COURSE, it matters when I go. Because if I don't pick a specific time, then I won't go at all. And I don't need to feel guilty about missing day, I just need to stick to the rest of the schedule.

And since I exercise on those specific days, at the gym, I don't need to think about it at other times, I don't have to try to squeeze it in other days, I just need to do it when I'm doing it*. And that's really refreshing and a big relief.

My luck with writing is directly attributable to what Trudy has dubbed 'National Write Something Month' because I know that I have to write 1700 words almost every day, so it has become a different sort of priority for me. And as always happens, writing begets writing and I have to much to say and write about. Hell, I wrote an article in record time today, and quickly added that number to my total.

So this pattern is making me think more seriously about assigning specific times to the other things I have to do and want to do, because if I play Twister with TLG every morning at 10, then it will become part of my mental routine and I won't have to wonder whether or when to do it.

And I will be applying this idea of discrete units of time and energy to my volunteer work and other obligations so I can keep working on them in an orderly fashion and not have them spill all over my life all the time. I don't like how I keep on top of some things and then neglect others and then have to work like a demon to pull certain things off at the last minute.

For the record: I have written 6665 words since November started. Whoot!

*That brings me to another point. I think I like rowing so much because it forces me to be mindful. In order to keep going at the rates I am supposed to, I have to follow a specific pattern when I pull back and another when I move forward and watching for the correct time to bend my knees, or the right moment to lean back, keeps me right there for almost the whole 40 minutes I'm rowing. Which is awesome. It reminds me of yoga for that reason, because if I don't keep my mind there I will mess up and end up hurting myself. And I also yoga up my rowing my paying close attention to the timing of my breathing, which never hurts.

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So a while ago, the Marlavelous Marla of Hello Josephine fame

had some pictures on her blog of letters that she and Josie had drawn in a box of salt, an activity suggested by a Junior Kindergarten teacher. TLG was sooooo not ready for that at the time, but I stored the idea away for future use.

Welcome to the future, folks!

This morning, as I was writing (I'm at about 4000 words so far for the month, for those who are keeping count), TLG came over to where I was working at the kitchen table to get a cuddle and I noticed that I hadn't put away the books from The Boy's latest book order. So I asked TLG if he would like to hear 'Mrs. McNosh and the Great Big Squash', and we settled it to read.

For some reason I was inspired to get him to count parts of the pictures (how many flowers in this picture? how many animals?) and to try to pick out letters in the words (do you see an M?)and picking out the letters put me in mind of the activity with the salt. So once we read the book for the fourth time (fond of repetition, that kid) I got out a flat sort of bowl,and a box of salt and we spent about 45 minutes drawing letters together (and spilling a fair quantity of salt on the table, for the record).

TLG and I sometimes have a challenging relationship, although he loves me fiercely, he finds my utter inability to spend hours jumping off the couch to be puzzling and my incredible slowness in getting him juice to be infuriating. This morning, however, was a sweet little time that I'll save against the next time he gets irritated with me for not being willing to let him risk life and limb dashing into traffic.

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I think too much. It's chronic and I don't think I'll find a cure and, frankly, I'm not trying all that hard.

One of the things that I think too much about is lyrics of songs I enjoy. As I have no doubt described before, I get hung up on certain words or turns of phrase and until I am satisfied that I have sorted a meaning for myself (not necessarily the meaning intended by the writer) it sticks with me.

I have been listening to a lot of Death Cab for Cutie lately. I'm not enamoured with the name of the band, but I do like their music, particularly on Plans, a CD which finds me enjoying both the lyrics and the music, which is unusual, because I usually veer sharply toward the lyrics and barely notice the music*. But in this case I enjoy the hopeful lilt of the actual music as well and the intriguing lyrics.

I keep getting hung up on one phrase though. In 'What Sarah Said' the actual thing that Sarah says is that 'love is watching someone die'. I agree that when you stay in a relationship until you see them through the very end, that is very loving, and being there for them as they move from one state to another is no doubt a comfort for both people involved, but I don't think that sums up love. It's not the be all and end all of love. And pat statements like that about the nature of anything complicated make me squirm. **

It can be very romantic in a sense to think of yourself selflessly dedicating many hours to sitting at someone's bedside, your priorities clear, not having to engage in normal interactions, just focusing on their comfort, and boiling everything down to what matters right now. Not to say it is not painful, and difficult, but it is not the sum total of love.

I would argue that love is watching someone live. Dealing with their moods, eking out space for both of you in the relationship, finding compromise between how they think they should live and how you think you should live, embracing the other person's rough edges, or at least finding a way to cushion yourself from them. Just living, doing the day to day.

It's kind of like how most people think of a wedding when they think of marriage. And a wedding is a good start to a marriage, but it is just one event, one moment, and no matter what challenges and joys you face on that day, or leading up to that day, it is not comparable to the joys and challenges of building a marriage. They are both part of the entire project but just as you can't sum up a marriage with a wedding, you can't sum up a relationship by saying that 'love is watching someone die'.

Look at me comparing the happy to the very sad, aren't I something else? I do like a good analogy though, so you'll have to bear with me.

>I am in no way diminishing the pain of losing someone you love, I am just uncomfortable with the idea of defining a whole relationship by that moment. It is very loving to watch someone die, and it is very painful to live through and keep going, but I wouldn't want any relationship of mine crystalized by those moments, it's not the sole definition of love.

I prefer to think of love like a quote from 'Love Like We Do' by Edie Brickell and The New Bohemians - 'And every day is just a little more, of time together to be happy for, I'm happy even when the times are rough, 'cause any time with you is good enough, when you love like we do.'

Oh and just to be clear, I do really like the song 'What Sarah Said' and I like the moments caught in the song, and I do agree that watching someone die is PART of love, just not sufficient to describe love entirely. However, 'Part of love is watching someone die' is not a good lyric, and would not make me think, so I think it works for the song just as it is - just not as a full plan for how to love.

*Seriously, I can hardly ever identify a song, even one of my favorites, by the intro music, I usually just tune in for the words. Must be a writerly habit, I guess. **I do like me a good shade of grey.

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I am sitting at my desk upstairs. My brother Mark is wrangling TLG. The Boy is in school. The Man is not coming home to lunch. So I have the various channels of my brain (Where's TLG? Where's The Boy? What are they up to? Is it time to make lunch?)shut down for now and I can just be right where I am.

And I like this place. I'm listening to Chris LeDrew on the computer, I have a cup of Morrocan Mint tea, I have a clear to do list, the giant tree in my yard has turned an orange-gold that makes my office look sunny even on this rainy day. I feel quietly energized from my workout last night. It's all good.

Sometimes it is hard to be right where I am, I'm a compulsive monitor of time and detail, trying to anticipate what I might need to do next. This moment, however, is about me, sitting here, smelling mint tea, being cheered by the sun tree, enjoying some music, and just pouring my thoughts on to my keyboard.

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Oh, ha ha! Look at me not posting for two months after my revelation about why I don't post. Well, now. So, yeah, hey there. I got nothing. But I'm sick of posting about why I don't post, so I'm going to just run with it from here.

I was giving some thought to doing NaNoWriMo but once again I realized that a) I don't have a novel in my brain right now and 2) I don't want to. But I do want to challenge myself and since I have at least one friend who is doing NaNoWriMo (Hi Trudy!), I think I am going to keep her company in November by working on the various short stories, plays, articles, and blog ideas I have kicking around.

I know, shocking isn't it? Me, creating my own way of doing things, edging away from anything that even seems remotely like competition, and avoiding any sort of measurement system.

But wait! There's more! I am going to write 50,000 words during November. And post every day about my word count (don't get excited, that may be all there is to it - a word count). So it is LIKE NaNoWriMo, only without all that novel-y stuff. So that's something, hey?

In other news, my brother Mark*, is teaching me to use the rowing machine and the gym. And I don't hate it! I have mostly been using the treadmills since I joined the gym, but I feel crowded by all the people and noise around me. The rowing machines are hardly ever used AND they are set aside from the other machines a bit. Works v. well for me.

*I'm totally dropping the MAWBM part, too cumbersome, and besides, aside from genetic facts, the man IS my brother. Oh, and he's sticking around here in NL for a few more months - YAY!

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Of course, not EVERY absence is indicative of incipient depression. Sometimes I am just too busy to post, and it means nothing outisde of itself. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

I shan't bore you with the details but suffice it to say that I was running around like a chicken with her head cut off for most of the week and I pushed and pushed until I got everything I could do done, and then escaped to Eastport with my writerly friends, The Strident Women, for a weekend of thinking, writing, eating and the occasional blue drink.

My blog writing time is up, more on the results of my thinking later.

In other news, my MAWBMB Mark has arrived after a cross country cycling trip. YAY, MARK!

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I bought a WiiFit today. I like it.

I do have some reservations though.

In my first go 'round, I was just trying to give the hula hooping a whirl but I had to jump through a bunch of hoops (ha!) to get to that part. One of the hoops was a balance test, but I didn't understand the directions ('balance on your left and right foot' meant that I should shift my weight from one to the other, not try to keep my weight equally distributed as I interpreted it) so I ended up testing my ability to comprehend directions, not my ability to keep my balance. I ended up with a WiiAge of 48. I'm 35.

Also, while I recognize it is just a tool of measurement, I find the BMI to be sketchy. I don't think it takes enough factors into account before labelling someone with value-laden words like overweight/obese.

Finally, the goal it suggested for me was weight loss and hence numbers oriented and I'm weird about that. I know that your weight is a valuable tool for assessing various things, but I also know that our society is obsessed with a certain type of thinness, and I refuse to buy in. And I don't give a damn what my number is, I care about how I feel and how well I can get through my day, how healthy I am. So I don't like the idea of setting a goal number when any of a variety of factors can affect that number without me being less fit, or less able to fit into my clothes.

But all that being said, I need to track things somehow, and I like the variety of activities in the WiiFit and I like that friends of mine are using it too. And I haven't found a better way to measure my progress (and I know that non-specific goals are rarely achieved). So I'm trying to figure out a way to make good use of the WiiFit tools without getting too caught up in the details of the design.

Here's to crazy amounts of fitness heading my way. Whoot!

PS - Speaking of fitness, The Man finished his first 10 mile race (The Tely Ten)in 1 hour, 58mins today. Way to go, my love!

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When I was growing up, there were a lot of young families on my street and not that I ever did it, but I always had the feeling that I could walk into any of three or four hours and be mothered if necessary or if my bike broke and my Dad was at work, I could borrow a Dad for a few minutes to get it fixed (truth be told, my Mom is an adept fixer-of-things, but I'm working out an example of 1970s childhood here, bear with me).

A lot of people I know feel the absence of that sort of environment while they are raising their children today, but I have invested a lot of time in cultivating that fabled 'village' to help me raise my kids. Aside from our parents, and my sisters (The Man's brother is in Scotland, the village can't always extend that far :)) we also have a group of really close friends with and without kids that we hang out and have fun with, and we spread the childcare out among the group.

In particular, we have Jan, and, Hil and Chad, and, Derek, all of whom make my life easier on a regular basis. When we get together, the three kids (Hil and Chad have a daughter The Boy's age) play together and the adults take on whatever role necessary. Any given grownup could be cooking supper, running messages, wrangling the kids, picking up toys, calming a crying fit, talking to any other adult, figuring out our plans, helping get a kid into pajamas or off to sleep. I could easily, and with complete confidence, leave the kids with any of the adults and know that they would be well taken care of until I returned.

These people are some of what I refer to as my 4-in-the-morning friends - you know, the people you could call at 4am and they'd come running to the rescue. Lately, I have been looking at the group of us as we settle the kids into sleep on Friday night, with some of us doing dishes, some of us reading stories and some of us picking up kid debris, and setting up the intruments to play Rock Band (I ROCK Margaritaville, by the way) and I just feel so grateful, so lucky, to have these people in my life. I can't help but grin.

The village is not just good for the kids, it's good for the Mombie too.

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the hectic-ee abandons her blog.

Part of the problem is my ambivalence to a lot of aspects of blogging. Many people see blogging as BLOGGING, and they are building an audience, trying to secure ads, and so on. And that's fine for them that likes it. But that's not what I'm here for. In fact the whole idea of building an audience, exposing my writing to trolls and the like, and then having advertisers that I am responsible to, just seems exhausting beyond measure.

I think of this blog as my own personal space, and like my house, I'm happy to have visitors, but I'm not inviting a ton of people over at once, and I'm not welcoming obnoxious people at all. This is a place I like to hang out, not a place that I want to feel judged all the time. I'm a harsh enough judge without creating a team to back me up on it.

But that's only one aspect of why I end up not blogging (the annoyance of doing my own html is another one - sometimes my time is just too limited for that stuff).

I've also noticed a pattern with me and my blog. Whenever things get out of hand in my schedule, I start paring down all the 'frivolous' stuff and leave myself with the essentials. That is I cut out stuff like exercise, watching Stargate, reading fiction, writing fiction, writing online etc, and I focus on whatever the WORK of the moment is. And that's not even necessarily paid work, just whatever is demanding the most attention.

You no doubt see the flaw in my thinking. I cut out all sorts of things that I find fun, that are restorative, and I leave in things are are demanding and draining. That in turn leaves my vulnerable to the sort of low grade depression that can follow me like Pigpen's dust cloud, waiting for the chance to overtake me.

I need to pay closer attention to when blogging seems like too much effort. Perhaps set off some sort of blog alarm that will start buzzing when I don't post for a week, and keep up that annoying noise until I dump some of the contents of my busybrain onto the screen.

Meanwhile, in the interest of being kinder to myself, I am planning to post here at least three times a week for the next month and see how that helps me.

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