On Making Memories...

Mil and Fil brought this concept into my life and the older I get, the more I see the value of it.

I’m a creature of comfort or, more accurately, a comfort-addict. I gravitate toward soft perches, a full stomach, sleep and escape from the harsh realities of life. My Jim is even worse about this so together, we are the Lazy Duo. Give us a hard week at work, a night short on sleep or a head cold and you’ll find one or both of us situated in our TV room with a plate of pizza, a glass of wine, and the most unattractive (but comfy) clothing in our closets.

What I’ve come to realize, though, is how little significance my time spent in comfort mode will mean to our family over time. I’ve spend hundreds of evenings like this, and you know, I couldn’t tell you about one of them specifically… No amazing couch night ever registers with me as a profound life experience or makes any difference in my stress level or overall fulfillment. In the moment, I’m cozy but not enriched.

However, I do remember the camping trip where we hiked to the base of a mountain and took photos of a little lake there… then returned to our little RV to find it surrounded by bees. I remember the screaming and crying that ensued, the argument I had with Cassie about running through the bees to get in the camper, the decision to go home and give up… the bumpy drive back down the mountain…

At the time? Frustration and angst… but now, it’s a memory. But what I don’t remember…? That night, after going home… I don’t remember sitting on the couch or what we watched on TV. I know we did it, but it’s gone from my life’s collection… a blank.

I don’t want my life to be a vague memory of the TV room. I don’t want to be so dependent on “comfort” that I end up 90 yrs old, alone and without any sense that I’ve done anything…without many memories to give me a sense that my life was chocked full…

Can one live a full life on a couch? Or is it better to brave discomfort and have something to add to the collection…

Cassie will ride in the Starlight Rose Festival Parade tomorrow. She’ll need to wait 3 hours in the staging area with other 7-9 yr olds, under a poncho, in her red-white-and-blue uniform… she’ll get wet, she’ll get cold…she’ll be tired and she’ll have a breakdown, I’m sure. We’ll get stuck in traffic, we’ll get wet too…we’ll get home late and miss a night of pizza and TV. But we’ll also get to wave at Cassie, to take pictures of her princess wave… to see the National Guard Band and yell at Jesse the drummer and Johnny V.

Making memories…

On Work and Toys...

It’s a crazy Thursday at work. One of those days that seems to involve some sort of lunar influence or mass intoxication of the public that results in weirdness not encountered on typical days. One of those days when just about every issue has to be run by a supervisor and the supervisor has to run it by her supervisor and, still, everyone is stumped.

But it’s 5:00 and I’m going home…

I bought a toy that is scheduled to arrive on 6/8. I'm kid again...

www.xootr.com

Now I can cruize with my 7 year old playmate. Wha Hooooo!