Michele Minehart

words & yoga

Date: October 31, 2011

the ways in which I insist upon ruining my children

(The Halloween Episode). 

1. I see all these parents shamefully admitting to “stealing my kids’ candy when they sleep.” And I ask why? WHY! Why wait until they slumber? And why the sheepish looks? It’s called sharing, kids. Someday you’ll have to pay taxes in similar fashion. 
2. If asking neighbors for free stuff, then you must show your holiday spirit. In this case, it means costumed. The mock-football jersey you wore on Saturday to root on your team does not count. Nor does anything that shows a lot of cleavage. 
3. I cannot justify spending more money on a ready-made costume than on the candy. It shows lack of creativity and willingness to become resourceful. However, I inherited my mother’s skills in this regard (LOVE you, Marj!). Soooo… costumes will probably be limited to makeshift piece-togethers that involve robes and cheerleading skirts.  
4. Lingering isn’t allowed. After enjoying a few pieces of the net profit and saving a few for the next day, we shall have a visit from the Pumpkin fairy (*I tried to find the link of where I first read this. I cannot. I’m sorry. But it’s not my own concept).
I cannot think of a 5th (and I enjoy the odd numbers). I’m sure Husband or the children will chime in with their own, if not now than in 15 years while on Oprah. OR someone in my family has an opinion. Or KLR will pipe in the ways she wouldn’t do it. 
 
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motivated mondays

Don’t hate me. I know of the premises behind Mondays, that they’ve become the dreaded day of the week because everyone leaves the comfort of home to return for another 5 days of grueling labor. But lately, I have come to love The Monday. She’s my friend. She’s good to me. With her help, I get things done. 

It seems that after a weekend of having a counterpart at home, I arise refreshed and ready to face the world. Both Husband and I wake earlier on Mondays, not really on purpose, but because it’s not as difficult to pull ourselves out of bed as on Fridays. Those of you who cheer the Friday simply aren’t living enough during the week, I say. 
A few Mondays ago I posted on FB about my level of productiveness… several loads of laundry, a roasted pumpkin-turned-muffins, apple crisp and a delicious dinner emerged from my kitchen. Most of this was after a morning of work and a visit with Jillian and the 6 week 6 pack (which, by the way, aided me into fitting into my Goal Jeans!). Today is similar. A chicken roasting in the oven, workout complete, laundry en route, bills paid up and even a little health insurance research for H’s BCMH application that I keep pushing to the bottom of the to-do list. 
However, Tuesday is never approached with as much promise. Perhaps I overdo it a bit on the Monday, but even if I save back a little, Tuesday’s productive level never hits the same peak. Something always arises – an appointment, the grocery store, a pee test to remain employed. And by Wednesday and Thursday,  I can only muster enough energy to fulfill the necessary requirements of functioning that day. Friday, also known as Stay In Your Jammies Day in our house, is a step away from calling a counselor hotline because I’ve lost most motivation to get dressed and cook a meal. The kiddos are home, and even if they are in bright and cheery moods I tend to be easily frustrated. For some reason, I get a case of the average person’s Mondays on the Friday. I’ve also noticed a pattern that I only break down into tears on a Friday. Friday and I don’t seem to be friends. She’s the mean girl who puts on a nice show when the teacher is looking and then snaps my bra. 
Then comes the weekend. Typically I’ve tired out the kids well and good from all the early mornings to the sitter so they let the grownups sleep in a bit (you know, like 7:30. Nearly brunch). And fortunately we’ve had a string of unplanned weekends with no real calendar that keeps us refreshed and productive on the homefront. Our shutters are now a pretty shade of cranberry to prove it. 
So that’s our weekly rhythm. Much like my running pace. Start out strong and then fall back. Every once in a while when you have to push it at the end, plan to collapse in a heap at the finish line. 
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