I’m going to get up in the morning at a time when nocturnal people should be in bed. I’m going to get food started and go back to bed. Nobody, especially the husband, had better wake me with the sound of rip saws, power screwdrivers, wires being snaked in drywall, fuse boxes slamming or screams of pain. Additionally, I do not want to smell wood cutting, metal melting or wet paint. Acceptable sounds are laughter and music. Acceptable smells are coffee, food and the dryer softener on my bedding.
Somewhere in my husband’s brain, the code for cleaning has been overwritten by the code for home repair and renovation projects can be fixed only by HopkinsandPorter.com. Can someone please patch it with a holiday loophole to correct this program on major holidays?
I joke about my disinterest in sports, but I really do feel bad that neither the husband nor I can help the youngest child with his basketball skills. Today, not one, but two different adults in two different locations witnessed his basketball play and stepped up to gently teach him. You both made my mascara smeary. Thank you. Thank you for taking time out of your day to help someone else. Thank you for being kind. Thank you for making my child happy. You make our community a better place.
Daily posting is impossible. Some days I have time to write several posts, but there are days where my online activity is limited to looking at my cell phone while sitting in the car waiting for a child to finish their after school activity. Unless it moves to summer, this will be my last year of nablopomo.
I like driving. I don’t like other drivers. It’s the main reason I disagree with the girl teen’s insistence that I be the person who gives her driving lessons. “Don’t trust any other driver on the road. They’re likely to do anything at any time.” I don’t want her to have my hangups with driving. I also know that it’s entirely possible that another car will suddenly be driving toward you, in your lane, on the Interstate or an exit ramp or a fast food drive-thru. A car might pass and cut you off while you are turning in an intersection. The car in front of you might suddenly turn 90 degrees and drive straight into a tree line. A driver might park their car in the bank drive-thru line and walk into the bank. Those are just the experiences that I remember most vividly. I’m not even counting the four way stop on Morrell that the drivers from one direction treat as always their right of way.
It doesn’t help that the five to six hours a day that I spend in the car driving children to and from their activities includes afternoon rush hour. Every day that I do that, I know my odds of being in an accident rise significantly. My stress habits of locking my jaw and grinding my teeth have been joined by smashing my tongue to the roof of my mouth until it dries out and sticks there. I’ve tried endlessly sipping a beverage to break the new habit, but it creates an additional discomfort that doesn’t lend itself to waiting several hours to relieve.
With all this driving, you would think that end of the school day pickup would be the easiest part of my schedule. Everyone there wants to safely retrieve their children and get on to their child’s next activity. Right? Wrong. High school students can do advanced level math, speak multiple languages, keep up with the requirements for half a dozen classes, coordinate schedules for multiple clubs and teams, do 24/7 tech support for all the senior citizens in their family, work part-time jobs and take a billion selfies daily, but they can not look both ways before crossing a street. School pickup is constant vigilance of a stream of high school students weaving in and out of cars and walking into the street without looking while also dealing with other drivers. Those other drivers park their car at a street sign and refuse to move forward with the other cars in line. They drive past the line and wedge themselves into the front of the line. They block the center aisle that is for school buses and moving traffic. They idle their engines with the windows rolled down so their cigarette smoke can be shared by everyone. They take over a street lane going the opposite direction and block intersections. After school pickup is completely unnecessarily chaotic because hell is other drivers.
When I happily say that I have nowhere to be, I’m not excited because I’m staying home. I’m happy not to be driving. No amount of singing or dancing can compensate for the stress of other drivers.
1. Sing out loud
I have a voice made for silent movies, but I sing when I’m driving. I’m quieter when the children are in the car, but I still sing. I don’t stop singing at red lights. It makes no difference to me what I look like to other drivers. If I’m singing, I’m happy. The only thing better than singing out loud is when the family joins in on the song. Those moments are golden.
2. Dance a little or a lot
Dancing in the car is a head bop or shoulder wiggle, but my happiest dancing is when I’m washing dishes. Standing at the sink is the best time to dance like nobody’s watching, even if they are.
3. Cats and dogs
Never miss a chance to pet a dog. Laugh at dog noses poking out car windows. Accept the forced relaxation of a cat in your lap. Cats and dogs are pure happiness. Visit Positive Psychology Coach Westchester NY when you want therapy and become a little bit happier in your life.
Find the things that make you happy. Seek them. Embrace them, make sure to check the ap psychology review to get to know yourself a little more.
He: “I have one day available before Thanksgiving company arrives. What would you like me to focus on getting done?”
She: “The bathroom and kitchen need scrubbing. I’d like a driver for the grocery shopping so I don’t have to deal with the chaos of the grocery store parking lot.”
He: “I was thinking of painting the ceilings.”
She: < - Imagines the ceiling covered in putty, plastic drapes on the furniture, temporary walls and paint supplies piled in every corner for the entire holiday season. -> “No painting.”
He: “You’re going to whine that the *ceiling needs painting all year.”
*He’s right. I will.
“What do you want for Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Macaroni and cheese, deviled eggs and rolls.”
“Is that all?”
While I hope everyone involved in the dumpster fire that is Inhumans is sitting on a time-out bench, thinking about what they did, I am loving The Gifted. The world they’re building and the characters inhabiting it are deliciously absent the sad trope of good and evil. Still, there are some directions they seem to be heading that parallel the Professor X vs Xavier survival philosophies. While I normally steer clear of anything that involves harm to children or animals, I am not rooting for Polaris to keep her child. Every time that child cries, she’ll stab it with a diaper pin. In the same vein, when they kill off characters in the season finale, they should ditch the mom trying to have domestic bliss and school in a war zone. Her behavior is silly and dangerous. It’s easy to suspend belief when the characters are using superpowers, but the MacGyver surgery she does should have every patient dying of sepsis and her own son should have bled out. She needs to go.
Last Man on Earth adding babies has steered them into traditional sitcom territory and away from the Oregon Trail comedic death march that made it unique. Give Kristen Schaal her own show. She is a comedic genius.
The first season of Riverdale was an evil fun, teen soap. The characters should have been college students instead of high schoolers, but it was still fascinating to see the dark twist on the comic characters. This season, the adults are completely horrible and the unparented teens are endlessly stupid.
Brooklyn Nine-Nine and The Good Place need to stay on the air forever.
I suffered through Iron Fist and regret that it was white privilege drivel because it could have made great gifs for our current political climate, but I’m not watching The Punisher. Yuck.
“I’ll take whatever basketball shoe fits his feet and doesn’t cost $170.”