Honda Odyssey 2004

Former North Carolinian, "Big Red" Odyssey (age 10) passed away after a short struggle with a failed transmission. Faithful to the end, Red coasted into a local car dealership and was deemed worthy of a trade-in.

Red will be remembered for his strength and fortitude, having hauled cords of firewood, six women running in a 205-mile relay, dogs, bunnies, and of course, children and their paraphernalia. His life was not without struggle and included shattered windows and minor collisions with trees, low brick walls (too low to see when backing out of a tiny parking space, IMHO), and a parked car (also low in terms of sight line).

Red will live in the memory of the many children he transported, but most of all by his driver. He was preceded in death by a 1993 Honda Civic.

The starting line

My kids amaze me. Despite living through their parents' divorce and the repercussions, they get good grades, have robust social lives, and are healthy. They have not just one passion, but many, and their fights are generally about borrowing clothes.

I cannot imagine having to shlep my belongings from one house to another without leaving something behind and adapting to the rules and routines of each home. And I am 46. They have been doing this for over six years, since they were four and seven. Add to that my sometimes less-than-stellar parenting skills (yes, I let an expletive fly now and then) and the fact that I have worked outside the home since they were eight weeks old. How did I get so lucky?

All kids have challenges; I personally know children with with ADHD, diabetes, and feelings of anger they simply cannot manage. Others are raised by one parent, go to school hungry, or not at all.  What I wonder is why and how some are resilient while others crumble under the same circumstances. If somehow they could all begin on the same starting line, some would still finish last, and some would drop out of the race.

Because there is no rhyme or reason for my good luck, my plan is to be thankful for what and who I have and to keep working. To make time for my girls, to really listen to them, and to curse less.

Happiness survey + a bad week

A week or so ago, my post about happiness and distraction referenced data gathered via a "happiness app." Turns out the app is not designed to make you happy, but is a twice-a-day survey notification sent by phone. Although you are not supposed to answer questions while driving, the message that "you have a survey to complete"stops me in my tracks, even if I am headed out to work or about to make a phone call.

I have had a run of bad luck in the past week; no one is sick or homeless, but my car is dead (transmission gone), my beloved manager fired, and my favorite laying hen eaten by one of my own dogs. As I answer these survey questions, I wonder how my happiness results would differ on a good, or better yet, a normal week. In other words, how closely are my feelings tied to my current situation?

So far, it seems that I feel the best outdoors, talking to one person, and when I'm not at home or at work. I have completed 44% of my surveys, at the end of which I receive a happiness report, which comes with this disclaimer (among others):

Your report is based on a random sample of moments, over a specific period of time. Any conclusions you might draw should be tentative. If you’d reported on different moments, or done it a month earlier or later, you might see different results.

I am curious to see the report, and am hoping that this week's results make up for last week's. Until then, I plan to be outside talking to one person as much as possible.

A mindless laugh

I should read Harper's instead of Women's Fitness, the New York Times instead of the Target insert, Madame Bovary, not Divergent. But after a particularly trying day, and sometimes on an average day, I need to be entertained, if only for a moment. And who says I can't do both?

http://beaarthurmountainspizza.tumblr.com

The bunny

My younger daughter tried before. Cinnamon and Pop came from PetSmart. The first few days they were cute and cuddly, but their droppings and the stench in the mudroom quickly became overpowering. The guinea pigs' cage, which eventually became a multilevel cage with ramps and mirrors, required a weekly cleaning, and the pigs themselves needed food, water, toenail clippings, and out-of-cage exercise time, which they rarely got. All of these tasks fell to me, or I should say that I let them fall to me, and I was not happy.

After a few months even my daughter admitted it was a failed experiment. Happily Cinnamon and Pop (now renamed Charlie and Lola) are now living a life of luxury with former colleague's daughter.

So when my husband agreed with Annie that a bunny was a good idea, I went ballistic, pointing out that all the work that would fall to me, that she would love it in the beginning but soon get bored, and so on.

Lou argued that as her stepfather, the bunny would be something that they have together. They would build a cage and feed it from the garden. They would shop together for bunny supplies. The bunny would be happy. Finally I let go.

And he was right. So right that we now have two bunnies, Trent and Peanut. Please let them both be female.

The gift that keeps giving

I got the perfect gift this Christmas, not normally something I think about in March, and probably not something I appreciated at the time. But it was so personal and thoughtful, I wanted to share. A brown paper shopping bag revealed four jars, one for each quarter of the year.

Inside each jar was a massage certificate, a drink "ticket" from a favorite watering hole, a chocolate bar (can't wait for the Q3 sea salt), a packet of flowers seeds, and a dinner, home cooked or out.

And when I taste that chocolate or watch a poppy unfurl, I will think of the giver. I am a lucky givee.

A Sisyphean task

I love growing healthy food (say baby spinach), finding the perfect recipe (a simple sautéed garlic and spinach), cooking it (it only takes seconds and smells fantastic), and eating it.

I HATE packing school lunches. I have given up on mornings. We are always rushed, I usually forget something, and I end up resentful. I am all about empowering kids, but when they pack, the kitchen explodes and the one-veggie-and-one-fruit rule is often overlooked.

Recently I came across "Tips for making Lunch on the Fly" from Food 52. The author writes:

Everyone needs a few survival strategies for getting through the lunch routine. When I'm short on time and supplies, one of mine is to assemble a few whole foods that I can feel good about feeding to my kids. I wanted to share a couple of these no-frills lunches; they are nothing I'm proud of but they got the job done.

 

Let me start by saying that these lunches are gorgeous; I would be thrilled tuck into one of these babies right now. But the tactics in the column are actually manageable. One of my issues is that my older daughter is a vegetarian (nine years running, so not a passing thing); otherwise she will eat almost anything, including eggs and cheese. The other child professes to hate eggs and cheese but would be happy if I handed her a loaf of white bread every day.

After drooling over the photos on the Food 52 site and considering my realities, here's my adaptation for this week. Truthfully, I do not plan ahead, and the leftovers in the lunches depend on what we actually eat for dinner. But it's not PB&J day after day, and now I have something tasty and healthy in my lunchbox too.

	Kid 1	Kid 2
Monday	rice salad with edamame and veggies, cheese stick, carrots, cubed orange, 2 girl scout cookies	same, but for cheese, sub peanut butter (for dipping) and pretzel sticks
Tuesday	leftover veggie pizza, celery and PB, grapes, chocolate square	the same!
Wednesday	same rice/edamame salad, bell pepper strips, grapes, chocolate chips and almonds	the same!
Thursday	bagel with hummus and cukes, boiled egg, carrots, blueberries, brownie	the same, but sub sausage cubes for egg
Friday	leftover pasta with red sauce, cheese, and chick peas; almonds; carrots and cukes; 2 girl scout cookies	the same!

Little things

This morning was nuts despite every effort to focus on the moment, to silence the negative thoughts nipping at my heels. School was closed, and then canceled again because of icy roads (will winter never end?); the puppy escaped; my husband had an early meeting and left the house before he could unload the dishwasher (yes, I guess he does help in the kitchen); the car ice scraper went missing; and on and on.

All little things, and compared to 98% of people, I have absolutely no room to complain. When the whirlwind of minutea threatens to suck me up, I fight back small. I gain some measure of control with more little things: excavating my purse or deleting photos from my Dropbox. 

It takes five minutes, doesn't hurt anyone (and I would argue that it helps), and I feel better already.

A wandering mind

A few weeks ago, I caught the end of an interview on how a wandering mind can lead to unhappiness. I always thought that daydreamers were blissful, content in their own world. It turns out that when our minds go somewhere else, it is not to a tropical island to escape the reality of a never-ending winter. It is to the grocery list, to carpool plans, to a dentist appointment, which now conflicts with the meeting you just scheduled.

Matt Killngsworth's TED Talk lays it all out in around five minutes. Check it out. According to his data (gathered via an app), our minds wander 47% of the time.

First, that's a lot of time, mostly wasted. Second, if mind-wandering makes us unhappy, think of the repercussions. 

Furrowed brow

An email from a friend last week included the phrase, "furrowed brow," which I just can't shake. Referring to her ex-husband (I also have one), she wrote, "It also kinda brings out a side of me that isn't really me - it makes me this furrowed brow angry person. So, in the end, it kind of changes me, which I really resent."

Wow. "Wow," I thought, "Me too!"

To be honest, I am not, nor will I ever be a pollyanna, try as I might. But here's what I can do -- pinpoint and dwell on the little things that bring me joy: a chicken pecking my red toenails, my daughter's smile, the smell of fresh rosemary. Sometimes my brain is so full of things that furrow my brow it's hard to make room, so I am starting small. For every negative thought, one positive. Surely I can do that.

An egg shaped like the US --> :)

Walk on

Today I walked. For someone once tied to her Garmin, obsessively checking calories burned, pace, and mileage, this is news. If I had been running today, I might not have noticed the fellow walker wearing a beret, the woman with the sweatshirt that said simply "eat," or the heron blending into his surroundings.

Did I burn 500 calories? No. Did I sweat? Not much. But I did see the heron, and walking feels better than running away.

Simple vs. selfish

The email reads, "What do you think about my inviting [a family of four] to stay with us for those four nights? We could put one couple on the inflatable in my office, the other on the pull-out couch in the room opposite (or in Z’s room, bunking her with A.)  Upside, beyond the pleasure of good company, is that they’d surely reciprocate in [their home country], etc."

What do I think? I think I am tired and do not feel like making conversation with people I do not know, cooking for them, cleaning the house to prepare for their visit. I also think I am selfish and boring. Why am I not automatically open to new experiences? Why am I so inhospitable? Saying yes will make my life less simple, but probably a lot more rich.

Yes.

Carpool and crockpot

Tonight promises to be a relatively calm night in my house; I get home from work at 5:30, but my older daughter has to be somewhere by 4:30 (we are carpooling*, and my husband is pitching in*). My younger daughter is going to a school dance at 6 -- but with the longer days she can walk*. So I COULD stand over the stove. But it's Friday, it's spring, and I would rather sit outside and read and have dinner magically appear.

So I am trying crockpot* vegetarian lasagne from Pinch of Yum. I'll let you know how it goes. Yum.

* tactics for making things simpler

Getting my feet wet

I chose the Simple template for my blog, not because of the name, but because I liked it for its lack of clutter. In fact, I removed a couple of elements that I deemed unnecessary -- and that is what I am striving for in my life. Nothing extra. Only what is truly needed and makes me happy.

Over the years I have made many steps toward decluttering and streamlining, donating kids' toys that would not be (and were not) missed, packing lunches the night before, employing the crockpot, trying to say "no," curbing my obsessive and time-consuming daily running habit....

But now it time to simplify in a bigger way, with the end goal being happy, or at least content. Lofty, I know. With this blog I intend to get my feet wet, reach of to other like-minded people, learn a lot, make mistakes, and ever day get one step closer.

Wish me luck.