A list for next time

I’m hesitant to even put this out there.  It’s so lame.  But maybe if it helps someone else feel normal then it will be ok.  It started when I was texting my sister a couple of days ago, she asked how it was going.

Not the best day.  But nowhere near the worst.  Probably because it wasn’t Thursday.  But still an anomaly.  When people ask how I am, I try to be honest.  Not the nitty gritty particulars, but I do try to be sincere and not just give the fake lipstick smile.  Occasionally—especially at an evening event—I’ll admit I’m kind of grumpy or just tired.  But truly, I’m not lying when I tell them I’m usually doing fine—there’s really nothing worth being extraordinarily upset about in my life.  And you should know me well enough to know by now I’d tell you the truth.  I caught one teen girl off-guard one Sunday when she was standing by her mom and the mom asked how I was.  I told her how irritable I was at getting the five kids ready for church by myself.  She was stunned;  but the mom knew where I was coming from.  Most days are just the perfect mix for me:  some structure flanked by flexibility.  Some commitments like dinner and laundry that everyone has to do, but plenty of time to fill in the gaps with whatever chores or activities I want or need to get done.  They aren’t very eventful, but most days really are just great.

And even yesterday wasn’t bad.  Just a little less great than normal.  And no, I don’t have cancer or even a sore throat.  Todd still has a job.  We have food and health and a comfy life.  So this is probably a good place for you to stop reading.  It really does get pretty small from here.

Really petty.  But I also think it’s ok to admit that some of the little things in life—while in and of themselves are fine, manageable, no big deal, whatever—once you start accumulating a few in a day, you start wanting to go to bed.  And it’s ok to just do that without reconciling the day.

Left at 8 and made my way into a friend’s house; we were in her bathroom.  I weigh myself like twice a year when I visit Todd’s work.  They have a dog scale.  So I decided to see, just for fun.  Who cares, I know.  I could tell my skirts were getting a little tight, a little gushy at the tops of my jeans.  I guess I just don’t want to add five pounds a year for the next 40 years.  I like to stay on top of things.  I can’t ever remember weighing this much.  Something to be aware of.  I skipped my chocolate chip cookies in the afternoon.  There’s got to be a better way.  I think sweatshirts are a better way.

The stacks of books were teetering, just waiting for me at the school library.  I had a glorious two hours of shelving.  That was a good part.  So satisfying.  I think I could live in a bookstore or library.

Brought home four extra friends for the little kids because it was half-day.  They are like our cousins.  I caught them pretend smoking and playing Truth or Dare—“Mormon Style,” Callum assured me.  Good grief.  They couldn’t think of things to do or play, my kids were being bossy.  I wondered if I’d made a good decision.  I lectured them a couple of times.  I sent them home with cookies.  I hope they’ll come back.

Somewhere in there a lady called and asked me to speak at a dinner.  Sigh.  I’m one of the top 3 least qualified people in the living world to give a talk.  I’ll write one out if you’ll present it; I’m just not the eloquent, captivating, motivational speaker anyone’s looking for.  But I said yes because of my relationship with her and because I have oodles of faith.

Meanwhile we baked two pies, but they took forever.  I needed the oven for cookies and the dinners I was making.  Running behind.  Fielded phone call and texts like I was an old-fashioned telephone operator.  Wasn’t till I tasted our own dinner later than night that I realized I’d messed up the recipe.  I’d already dropped off the other half earlier.  I can’t even tell you how embarrassed I was/am.  I hate that.  I’m sure it made her sicker.

At the activity later that night I found out I hadn’t been invited to a friend’s going away party.  Made me wonder if I’d only been invited to things in the past because of the position I used to hold.

I was too tired and headachy to even muster the strength to talk to the people I saw by themselves at the activity.  I knew I should’ve.  Something I can usually be counted on to do.  For some reason, even something so simple was beyond me.  I sat on the same chair and chatted with whoever came by.  Totally looking like a clique.  I hate that.  My headache was too distracting for me to even stay and clean up.

Saw a group email with a quote clarifying some dumb comment I’d made in a class a few weeks ago.  I was so embarrassed at the time that I’d invited controversy and even mild contention into the discussion, I’ve chastised myself a million times for not keeping my thoughts to myself.  And here it was again, reminding me of my off-judgment.

Went to bed without even flossing.  That’s how Todd could tell.

There’s no point having a little downer without using that information for something good.  So here’s my take-home message:

1.  Don’t worry about scales and numbers.  That’s always been my mantra; why did I even look?  Who cares?  Who notices?  Scales are all different.  The numbers can change with the hour of the day and what clothes I’m wearing.  Not worth worrying about.  When I can’t see my feet then I’ll know.  I’m not living on lettuce and green juice drinks.

2.  Bake the pies earlier in the day.  And I suppose I would’ve.  If I’d been home at all.  Lesson here is to not put it off.  I find myself doing that all the time, forgetting that we only own one oven.  But it’s not just a cooking issue.  And I don’t think I’m the only one who procrastinates.

3.  Stick with my standard answer when someone asks me to do something I’m not sure about.  “Let me check my schedule and call you back.”  I’ve learned I just need a second to process what ramifications my answer will have.

4.  Read the recipe twice.  And then again.  Be present (not on the phone) for the ingredient part.  The stirring part is a good time to chat.

5.  Always have a little taste before you serve it.  Especially if they aren’t related.

6.  Take a nap even if it’s lying on the couch in the middle of the commotion; 40 winks is what my mom calls it.  It’s worth the investment when I make it a priority.

7.  Don’t spend energy on things we can’t control.  And remember what it feels like to be included so we can widen our circles.

8.  So what if I’m tired?  Lots of people just want to curl up and go to bed.  I can still muster the strength to say hello to a friend.  If nothing else, this is the kind of stuff that matters.

9.  Hold my tongue just a minute longer to think about how it will sound.

10.  It’s ok not to floss once in awhile.  And I never take off my mascara—there’s nothing left anyway by the end of the day.  But I’m just afraid if I fall asleep with my contacts in they will stick to my eyes.