It’s on my 2017 Project List to get all of our theatre memorabilia into scrapbooks and/or organized boxes. Some of it is too large or 3D to fit into the books, but I want to get everything together. Right now, we have a little bit over here and a little bit over there and some tucked way back in there.
In an effort to start getting it all together, I emptied out a trunk today that had much more than just theatre stuff in it. There was wedding stuff and some school stuff and some Mom stuff and some Dave stuff and a few kid things thrown in. It makes me wonder how you decide what to toss and what to keep.
A few examples…
- Diplomas – I’m pretty sure I know I graduated.
- All the wedding flowers – I used silk flowers for myself and the bridesmaids. Do I really need to keep ALL of them?
- Mouth molds – Yeah. I found molds of Jacob’s mouth. Well, two of them are his. One is unidentified.
- Baby teeth – What do I plan to do with them?
- Random things which I don’t remember why I have them – Like candles. Why do I have the candles? If I don’t remember the candles, should I keep the candles?
Part of me wants to say “TOSS IT ALL!”, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.
You never know when you’ll need a mold of your son’s teeth that was taken before he had all his orthodontia done.
Alright, friends. Without further ado, here’s what I decided on for this year.
Word of the year: Question – (v) to subject to analysis
Truth be told, I’ve gotten to the point where I can pretty much excuse any behavior or excuse I present myself. I want to start holding myself accountable, which means questioning my motives behind my choices and giving honest answers so that I can make the right choice.
Q: Why am I eating this candy bar?
A: Because I’m angry and tired.
Q: Will it make you feel happy or rested?
A: No. I don’t need to eat it.
Q: Why am I eating this candy bar?
A: Because I have the taste for it.
Q: Then what are you waiting for? Enjoy!
You get the picture.
As for my tangible goals, I’ve got a few.
- Complete different monthly goals which focus on food choices, exercise, and emotional/mental health.
- Complete monthly photo-a-day challenges with Emma and post them to my “39 in Pictures” site.(This one might be sporadic because I’m letting her take the lead on it.)
- Read 30 books with an emphasis on moving things from “Want to read” to “Read” on Goodreads.
Listen to music
Green Tea in the morning
Text, Write, or Message someone
25 jumping jacks
Learn a new word
All green on Fitbit
Spend 30 minutes outside
Remove added sugar
15 min walk
Short bike ride
Tea before bed
Work on a crossword puzzle
No social media
60 minutes of exercise
Solo dance parties
Something green at every meal
End 2016 with more steps than 2015
(Increase Average Steps per Day)
||2015 = 2,289,913 steps
||2016 = 2,270,126 steps
Well then. Didn’t quite make this one, did I? Unless you look at it percentage wise, then I got to like 99% which is much better sounding. It’s all optics, people.
Spend less money on parking than I did in 2015
(Track monthly spending)
||2015 = $199
||2016 = $176
GOAL ACHIEVED! Saved myself a whopping $23!
Earn 6000 reward airline miles
(Take 10 surveys a month)
||Surveys taken = 157
||Miles earned = 6,000
Woohoo! Another GOAL ACHIEVED!
2016 PopSugar Reading Challenge
(Read at least 25 of the 41 suggested books)
||A book recommended by someone you just met
||The Four Agreements – Don Miguel Ruiz
||A science-fiction novel
||Ender’s Game – Orson Scott Card
||A book of poetry
||Traveling Light – Linda Pastan
||DECEMBER – 3 books read
|| YEAR – 34/25 books read
GOAL ACHIEVED! You can see the complete list of what I read here.
I have a love/hate relationship with sugar.
I love it. I love it a lot. I used to put enough sugar on my cereal that I could spoon wet sugar out of the milk at the bottom of the bowl.
Ice cream, baked goods, candy… I love it all. Except chocolate. I do not like chocolate.
But I hate the hold it has on me. I hate that I can never have just one treat, or a small treat. It always leaves me wanting more, more, more…until I hit that point where I never want to see sugar again because I’ve eaten so much.
I hate the way it makes me feel, physically and mentally.
There will be stretches of time where I commit myself to less. I’ll try to make little rules for myself.
Only once a week
Only if I’ve had 5 servings of produce
Only on days when I work
Only if I split it with someone
And I see that the kids are sugar fiends now. I try to make rules for them, too, but I’m never consistent with them.
How can I help them with something when I can’t even help myself with it?
I’m not sure why, but this month of prompts has led to a lot of reminiscing. This prompt is no different.
I don’t ever remember liking the snow. I’m sure at some point in my childhood I did, but I honestly don’t remember it. I didn’t like the feel of it. There’s nothing worse than snow getting someplace you didn’t want it to and then melting, leaving you wet and cold.
When we went out to sled, my mom used to make us put plastic bags on our feet before we put our boots on to help keep our feet dry. This was usually over two or three layers of socks. (Don’t even get me started when you had a wrinkle in one of the socks that you couldn’t adjust…multiple layers of socks led to many anxiety attacks…”It gives me FEELINGS”…)
We’d come home, strip off all the layers and I’d inevitably step in a puddle of melted snow.
That trend has not changed now that I’m not the one actually tracking in the snow. But inevitably, my foot is the one that finds the puddle.
I have big feet for a girl.
Not only do I have big feet for a girl, but I have an unusual shoe size for typical women’s shoes. There aren’t a ton of companies that make a size 10.5 women’s shoe, and if they do, they don’t usually sell them in brick and mortar stores.
It makes shoe shopping really, REALLY fun.
I usually will find a style that I like, and then order a size 10.5 and 11. But I also know that the chances of either of those shoes fitting correctly are pretty slim so I’ll find a second, third, or fourth style and order those, too.
My last shoe order from Amazon was for 6 pairs of shoes. I kept half of them and returned the rest.
It’s worse with non-athletic shoes. I can never find laceless shoes that fit quite right, so I’ve just grown used to wearing shoes that don’t fit well. They’re always a little too big, or a little too tight, or they slip off my heel.
Typically, I will wear a shoe until there are literally holes in the soles* before I venture out to try and find a new pair.
I sincerely hope that Emma’s feet don’t grow to be as big as mine. That’s a strange wish for a child, I know, but that girl loves shoes and if she has trouble finding things when she’s older, I feel like a little piece of her soul would be crushed.
*Holes in the Souls would be a good band name
I have a very random yet distinct memory of laying with my head on Mom’s lap when I was a kid. I was not teeny tiny, but not a teenager either. I don’t remember exactly how old I was.
As I laid there, I started poking her stomach and told her one of the reason I liked laying on her lap was because her stomach was so soft.
I don’t remember what her reaction was, but now that I have my own soft stomach, I wonder how she took that nugget.
Was she upset because of my assessment of her physical state?
Did she laugh in an “out of the mouth of babes” sort of way?
Was she even paying enough attention to realize that I had been talking?
I’m not sure. All I know is that when Emma said something similar to me not too long ago, I was swept right back to that moment. It was like everything had come full circle.
For me, it was a mixture of emotions. I thought it was funny since the comment was so similar. It made me a little sad because I don’t particularly want to have this soft of a stomach. And I was strangely proud because in some twisted way, I realized that Em hasn’t bought into this whole idea that girls need to be super skinny with washboard stomachs.
There are some days where I feel like all Emma and I do is fight.
What do we fight about? Oh, my… Recent topics include sighing, grunting, listening, fighting, yelling, the fact that we don’t want to fight anymore, homework, karate, going to bed, getting up, eating, not eating, laundry, tripping over stuff in her room.
I’ve told Dave that I feel like I can’t even open my mouth lately without having her argue with me.
From what I hear, this is not uncommon.
And it’s definitely not just her. Her attitude reduces me to a sniveling mess, usually exhibiting the same behavior I’m getting mad at her for showing.
Basically, Dave and Jake lie with TWO pre-teen girls. It’s pleasant for them, I’m sure.
When I was pregnant with Jacob, Dave and I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. We had read all the books. We talked to people. Thanks to nieces and nephews, we had been around babies.
But really? We didn’t have a clue.
I went into labor on his due date. Type A from the start, that one. That apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
We headed to the hospital, settled in, waited, and labored. He was born early the next morning. When we finally made it into a room (after hanging out in the hall way for a while because there were no rooms available), I think Dave and I were both shell shocked.
We had a baby. A BABY. Good Lord. We didn’t have a clue.
I remember when the nurse brought Jake into the room and we were still shell shocked and she left him and said that his diaper needed to be changed. She walked out and Dave looked at me and said something along the lines of “How the hell do I do that I’ve never done that and how do I do that and where are the diapers anyway she didn’t leave us any diapers WHERE ARE THE DIAPERS?” I paraphrase and jest, but still.
I’d like to think that we grew into pretty good parents. But they are definitely still times when we look at each other and ask “How do we…??”
Still, no clue. We’re making things up as we go along.
I’m afraid of the dark, and I’m pretty sure I can trace the fear back to actual reason.
The house I grew up in faced a very busy street. The two bedrooms I had when I was a kid were both on the front of the house. Because of that, I had a street light that shined through my window.
I just got used to there always being a light on in the dark.
I’ve had different bedrooms since then, so I have gotten used to not having a light in my window, but it is something that I always missed. And I’m not going to lie, when we stay in a hotel room and the kids ask us to leave the bathroom light on, they are not the only ones who find comfort in that light.
The house we live in now has a street light right outside our bedroom window. I love it. It’s the most “at home” I’ve felt since my childhood bedrooms.