Weblog Archives
Having
time to myself is almost creepy.
So today after
lunch, The Boy went for a nap with virtually no
resistance. And then, an hour later, Little Guy went off
to sleep (considerably more work for that one, especially
if you factor in milk production time, which doesn't
require concentration from me but still takes energy.
doesn't it?). So I was here in the house with two
sleeping kids, I hadn't planned for it and I had no idea
what to do with myself.
I hate to squander free time by just lazing around
(although there is something to be said for lazing, don't
get me wrong!) but I hate to start working on something
because then I get annoyed when I'm interrupted. And none
of my books are particularly interesting at the moment.
And I couldn't marshal enough brain power to actually
write anything. So I read weblogs, and thought about the
site Danielle and I are launching in March/April and
generally lazed in a semi-productive way.
Semi-productive lazing. It has a lot to recommend it.
A
surprisingly un-bad day
So The Man was in
Halifax all day today, he left on a 6am flight and he'll
be returning sometime after midnight tonight. So by
rights this should have been an awfully long day but it's
actually been pretty damn good.
My mom came over this morning for her weekly babysitting
morning (Thanks, Mom!) and I actually spent time ALONE in
my office. I hardly knew what to with no baby on my lap
or preschooler leaning on my elbow (do you know what
hurts? elbow on desk, preschooler on elbow - don't try it
at home, folks!) but I decided on doing a reorganization.
Now my office is very tidy, and I know where to find
everything and it feels a little more professional.
Then after lunch, Kelly and Matthew came to visit. Kelly
and I always have great talks and no matter how numb my
sleep deprived brain is, talking to her makes me feel
like I can stay in gear a while longer. And as a bonus,
The Boy and The Matthew actually played together for a
short time today. This is virtually unheard of since The
Boy is rather, well , let's call it reserved.
Then I made supper, and gave The Boy a bath, and Little
Guy took up the fussing-for-hours slack quite admirably
(no one has been on that job here for a few years) but
just when my eyes were starting to glaze over, Mom and
Dad showed up to watch the boys while I went for coffee
with Danielle.
Danielle and I have been trying to have coffee since, I
think, July but life kept getting in the way. Tonight,
however, we were victorious and we spent an hour and a
half chatting, all by ourselves, in a restaurant. It was
beyond exciting. And also? Danielle rocks. Big time.
So while I should be cracking up by this point, since I'm
used to The Man returning home at 6 to take some of the
childcare heat off of me (yes, single moms, I am a
parenting wimp. I don't know how you do it, and I tip a
metaphorical hat to you for maintaining your sanity) but
thanks to my parents and two wonderfully cool friends, I
have enough brain power to write a relatively coherent
entry at 11:30 at night.
Whoot!
Ideas?
What are they?
I'm experiencing a
severe dearth of ideas lately. I'm feeling the itch to
write but when I sit down at the computer (or the
notebook) I can't actually think of a thing to write
about. I feel very writerly, and even somewhat
disciplined, but dammit I can't just dig in. When I do
have a topic I can write just fine - I submitted a story
to the Telegram on Monday, but Meagan helped me come up
with that idea in the first place.
I think the problem is that right now I don't have a lot
of time to just think. Having a new baby is very
mind-filling, and the corresponding lack of sleep doesn't
make me contemplative, it just makes me tired. When I do
take a break, I usually have something specific to do and
I can't waste my 'time off' just thinking - I have to get
stuff done.
Not that it would really be a waste of time, of course,
but I would have to choose that over some things that
feel more productive in the short term. Spending my days
with an infant and a three year old doesn't always feel
productive (for instance, I got interrupted three times
during that sentence). It is fun (usually) and it is the
right choice for our family but it doesn't lend itself to
daily feelings of accomplishment. The food that I make
gets eaten, the dishes I wash get dirtied, the clean
laundry gets worn, the tidy living room gets messy, clean
diapers get filled - it takes constant effort to keep up,
and getting ahead is out of the question (how would you
get ahead on housework or childcare? You can't clean the
bathroom once and for all or feed the kids all their
meals for the week in one sitting.). So, when I do take
some timem I'd rather do anything but think, since
thinking is rather amorphous and is never actually
finished.
But sadly, thinking is the only way to get ideas, and I
need ideas in order to write so I'm going to have to make
time for it.
My next question is - how does one make
time? I've never been good at
crafts.
I knew
it!
You and Green Stripey Steve are meant for one
another! Either you're just as innocent,
sweet, clueless and naive as he is, or you like
to corrupt virgins; however you slice it, it's
bound to be a lot of fun!
Which Steve Burns Persona
Are You Most Compatible With?
brought to you by Quizilla
No
naked Daniel Jackson for me, goddammit!
So I am a Stargate
addict.
There, I said it.
I absolutely love Stargate, I love the premise, I love
the characters, I love the anthropology/archaeology but
most of all, I love Daniel Jackson.
It may have something to do with the fact that he looks
like The Man - in a vague, glasses smart guy sort of way
but I try not to analyze it too much - I just enjoy it.
Anyway, he wasn't on the show for a while and then when
he returned, the other members of the team found him
naked on a far away planet.
Daniel Jackson.
NAKED.
The thought alone is almost too much to bear, the sight
might fry my brain entirely.
But I've been waiting to see this episode for over a year
now since we don't get new episodes as they're aired, we
only get them in re-runs on the Space channel.
And apparently my brain decided to protect itself from
frying because last night the Naked Daniel episode was on
and I missed the important (read: Naked) part because I
hung out at Ange's a little longer than I meant to. I
hadn't realized that this was the ND episode so I didn't
hurry back in time to catch the beginning and when I
strolled in 10 minutes in to the show, The Man was
grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
I can't believe I missed Naked Daniel.
But as slight compensation, dressed Daniel and dressed
Jonas were hanging out throughout today's episode so
there were a number of very cool shots of two very hot
men for me to sigh over.
I need to buy Season 7 on DVD and get both the
"Naked Daniel" episode (I'm sure that's not the
official name but it should be!) and the "Daniel and
Jonas - hot men I " episode (again, not the name but
whatever)
Also in today's episode (that would be the "Daniel
and Jonas - hot men I like" episode) Daniel
described his job in a way that kind of described my day
: lousy hours, constant peril. Although his peril is
physical and the only peril I face is brain numbness from
lack of sleep and from trying to keep ahead of The Boy
(three year olds are tricky).
It's
not so much that I'm a technophobe it's more that
machines are Mombiephobes.
In the past month
I have had two computers develop an irrational hatred for
me.
Now, before you think I'm being ridiculous (oh, I know
waaaaaay too late for that) let me explain.
You see, I used to have this computer that ran win95
(don't tell me. I know. But it really did all I needed)
and for some unknown reason we had it set up for multiple
users so The Man had one desktop and I had another.
Shortly after Christmas, this computer , which had served
us well for 8 years completely freaked out. It would do
all of its normal loading procedures but once the desktop
was loaded it would freeze up and we couldn't do
anything. V. irritating.
What does that have to do with me specifically you might
ask? Just wait, I'll explain after I recount my second
computer adventure of the month.
So we brought annoying computer 1 (hithertofore known as
AC1) to my trusty BIL Dan o' Dan, and we acquired an old
computer from The Man's workplace. This seemed like a
good idea at the time, it was waaaay more advanced than
AC1 (i.e. it runs win98!) and it had a CD burner and a
lot more memory etc etc etc.
Then it became annoying computer 2, shutting down
randomly, or giving me a single green line across the top
of the screen, or giving me a blue screen. It reached its
peak on friday, shutting down a record 30 times in an
hour. In case you don't realize it, that's a little
annoying for a writer who is trying to work while an
infant squirms on her lap.
Meanwhile, back before AC2 had reached peak annoyance
levels, we got AC1 back in order to remove some important
files from it. That's when we discovered that the problem
with AC1 was limited to my desktop and my desktop only.
We eliminated my desktop and the problem went away. That
made AC1 into V.AC1 in my books.
Then over the weekend, The Man began trying to repair AC2
and that's when he discovered that the problem with AC2?
ALSO LIMITED TO MY DESKTOP.
So this is personal. The computers are out to get me.
Why do computers hate me? I don't do anything evil to
them, I hardly every downlaod anything (and if I do it's
from very reliable sources), I never take them apart and
switch around their insides, I keep them company whenever
I can, I don't push them to do fancy things, I just want
to run Explorer, a word processing program and an ftp
program. Is that too much to ask?
Apparently so.
In
which the mombie muses about postnatal exercise
When I got out of
the hospital, I had great plans to start exercising right
away.
Then the realities of sleepless nights, and long
preschooler filled days kicked in and my great plans went
by the wayside. I remember now why I could never exercise
when The Boy was an infant - he kept needing me, in
varying amounts for varying lengths of time. He was
completely unpredictable and I couldn't work around kid
unpredictability as well then as I can now. The lession I
have to learn now, of course, is how to factor in the
unpredicability of two kids when trying to plan to
exercise (or to plan anything really, but the topic here
is exercise).
I've managed to swing it a few times, and I may be able
to start strength training again this week (that's
waaaaaay more flexible than, say, aerobics) but tonight I
had my heart set on doing some yoga. I even have a
special postnatal yoga video.
I put the Little Guy on the couch (yeah, I know you
aren't supposed to do that but the design of our couch is
such that he would have to roll upwards at a 45 degree
angle for about 1.5 feet in order to plummet to certain
injury and frankly, I don't think a six week old is up
for that - and besides I was right there.) and I tried to
interest The Boy in doing the poses with me.
The Boy was not interested, he wanted to tell me all
about how his Daddy (who was at the grocery store) was
going to be mad because he had eaten the last chocolate
in the box. I had been there earlier when The Man had
given The Boy the rest of the chocolates (4 little
rosette thingies) and told him to go ahead and eat them
but The Boy would not be convinced that all was well. So
he spent the first 10 minutes of my video telling me that
'Daddy didn't want me to eat them, but he told me to eat
them, and I ate the last one and he will be so, so mad'.
I've never done this video before, I couldn't hear the
instructor, it was complicated.
Cut to The Man's return, the Little Guy decides he has
had enough of staring at the light and he flips out, The
Boy runs out to see for himself that Daddy is not mad. I
have collapsed in laughter because while I am managing to
strike the yoga poses (after a fashion) they are not
having the desired effect because I can't do proper
breathing while saying 'It's okay little guy, calm down.
It's okay The Boy, Daddy's not mad' over and over while
doing lotus pose. Actually that's a bad choice of poses,
my boobs are waaaaay too big (in their current milky
abundance)to let me lie close enough to the floor to do
that one effectively anyway.
Eventually things calm down, and I persevere through the
tape. The Man takes Little Guy upstairs to squall, and he
tries to convince The Boy to hang out upstairs too. This
is not happening. (in the words of The Boy 'that baby
sure is loud') So The Boy comes downstairs to 'help' me
do yoga, and starts pushing down on whatever body part
I'm stretching, pressing on my back while I'm balancing,
and crawling under me when possible. All while giving a
constant stream of commentary.
Needless to say, I skipped the guided relaxation part of
the tape all together.
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©
Christine C. Hennebury 2003
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