It's been a while, eh? I'm a little nervous blogging after so long. I feel like a husband who forgot an anniversary. How do I get through the frost?
Speaking of frost, this is where I'm from:
It's cold there, but I love it all the same. Not love it like I'm gonna be living there any time soon, but well, I've been kind of nostalgic lately. A little homesick. I usually get up there for my birthday, but not this year due to a hearty family cold that lasted 3 weeks.
Yeh, I'm from the sticks. Here is a girlhood photo of me showing off something I decapitated:
No, that's not really me. But those are the sticks I'm from in the background. I like to think that in some small way, they are my sticks. It's not true, though. I am theirs.
Speaking of non-sequiters, I went to the library today and grabbed this album for my 4-year old son, thinking he might like it:
Oh, Man. He likes it. In fact he busted a solid African move to it for well over an hour. It gratified my heart, it did. Then I was blabbering about it to some moms after school (oh, we blabber) and the consensus was that I should get him in African dance lessons immediately.
"Gosh," I thought, "I really oughta." But I can't really afford it in terms of time, money or sanity, so... maybe not. Then I felt bad.
Then I got an email from "My baby this week" by babycenter.ca/ (I always love these emails which began when my children were still embryos) and the email totally brought me to my senses. The gist of it was that 4! is a little young to be pushing kids into organized sports and for now I should just make sure he gets lots of opportunities for active, unstructured play.
And then I felt good again remembering that I have a no-constantly-shunting-my-children-from-one-activity-to-the-next policy on purpose, not by mistake.
Do you get worked up sometimes when you hear that somebody's 4-year old is taking pottery-throwing, cello and conversational French while yours is poking at a frozen puddle with the dog's chewing stick?
I do. And I have to remind myself that poking frozen puddles is actually an important thing for a child to do and I want that for my children more than I want pottery/cello/French.
The wonderful thing about my boy dancing to "Simba's Pride" for an hour is not that he has an apptitude for African dance (truly, he doesn't - he crashed into the coffee table a lot) but that he can dance for an hour if he wants. Yay!
One fantastic thing about growing up in the sticks is that we had plenty of opportunities to poke at frozen puddles with sticks which were abundant.
Speaking of abundance, I signed up for the Deepak Chopra 21-day mediation challenge which was supposed to begin today but the site is down and so I did not receive an email detailing my first meditation challenge towards "finding abundance."
Do you think this is the first challenge?
I don't, I think it's a technical glitch. But it's kind of amusing to picture all the tens of thousands of people signed up for the Deepak Chopra 21-day meditaiton challenge reacting all around the globe to not being able to do get their Deepak on.
Here's my answer to that:
10 Gratitudes Right the Hell Now:
The beauty of the North
My boy dancing
Fresh air moving through my lungs this morning in the sunshine
The wagging of my dog's tail when I took him for that run
The small kindness of a friend who is thinking ahead for me today
My legs are strong
Books and CDs are free at the library
Cinnamon scones, scrambled eggs and coffee for breakfast tomorrow morning
A warm bed