OODLs (Observations on Daily Life)

It's day 11 of NaNoWriMo, and I've written just over 26,000 words of my novel. 25,500 of them will be deleted in the rewrite. And yet, I don't consider this a waste of time. There could be hope for me yet.

Ian walked into my office this afternoon and lamented, "I wish there were more hours in the day. There's not enough time for me to do everything I have to do and still be able to do the things I want to do!" He's ten years old. While we are busier than I would like to be, I don't think our family has a particularly fast-paced life. True, Ian dances three evenings a week, but that's his only extracurricular activity. He is homeschooled, so - while we do follow a lesson plan - he hasn't been pigeonholed into an academic schedule that is too difficult for him. Consequently, he rarely has homework. I work full time, but two days a week I work from home. Mike is a stay-at-home dad/microfarmer. Lily spends her days learning her ABCs and watching old episodes of Blue's Clues. Overall, I would say that we are much more relaxed than the typical American family. And yet, at ten years old, Ian is already craving the mythical 25th hour. I know how he feels...

Every word uttered in our house is recorded. Our conversations are stored in a comprehensive database for later review and utilization. No, I do not think the FBI, Department of Homeland Security, or IRS has bugged our house or tapped our phone line. I am not a conspiracy theorist. I am the mother of a 2-year-old. Sitcoms, movies, and even commercials are rife with cherubic children creating awkward situations for their parents by revealing intimate family secrets. Remember the commercial in which a little girl in an elevator regales strangers with the details of the Disney cruise she enjoyed with her parents the previous year? The one that culminates with her telling one of the other elevator passengers that her mother refers to her baby brother as "our little souvenir?" I'm pretty sure that commercial was scripted by a mom. For now at least, Lily doesn't tell embarrassing stories about our family. She does, however, repeat everything she hears us say. Every...

A few months ago, I attempted to read The Atlantis Blueprint , by Colin Wilson and Rand Flem-Ath. I say "attempted" because it took me four weeks to get 2/3 of the way through the book. My failure to complete the book rests squarely on my shoulders: sadly, I usually only have about a half-hour before going to bed each night to devote to reading, and the material covered in The Atlantis Blueprint requires much more attention than I was able - or willing - to give it. In other words, I was looking for a mindless read, and when I didn't get it I gave up and returned the book to the library. While much of what is covered in the book is speculative science and therefore does not pertain to this blog, one sentence made it into my "Random Ideas" (now my "Observations on Daily Life") file: "There are probably millions of human beings in the world today whose intelligence is just as great as the famous scientists, artists and intellectuals in our histo...

Forgive me, readers, for I have been delinquent in my blogging. It has been almost three weeks since my last entry. My reason for not blogging is a lack of time. No, that's not completely true. That isn't a reason. It's an excuse. While it is true that I have been busy recently, I haven't really been any busier than I usually am. What I have been is unwilling to work on balance in my personal life. Yes, I am admitting to - gasp - a bout of laziness. I have not been idle by any standards. I have consistently worked my customary 40+ hours each week. I have continued to do laundry on Sundays. I have finished knitting a sweater and a hat for Lily, started knitting a sweater for Mike, and made considerable progress on Ian's blanket. I have been hard at work on Ian's English curriculum. But I haven't written a word outside of work-related email since my last blog entry on September 30. I realized this morning that I feel out of balance. Incomplete. Un...

The top of the chalkboard in my high school Western Civilization class was emblazoned with this quote: "The unexamined life is not worth living." - Socrates A sophomoric sophomore or an eleventh grader acting like an 11-year-old would sometimes venture to alter the quote, either by erasing part of it or by adding letters here or a word there. Each time this happened, we would snicker and await the reaction of our teacher - Mr. L.R. Smith - when he entered the room. It was always the same. He simply rewrote the quote and started class as though nothing had happened. At first glance, it's obvious that Mr. Smith was following classic teaching (and parenting) advice by not reacting to this non-destructive, rebellious behavior from the children he was charged with teaching. I believe there was much more to his lack of a reaction, however. By writing the quote in chalk instead of using a more permanent medium, he was actually encouraging us to alter it. And, by altering i...

Sunday is a special day for me. It's the one day I can sleep late, even if sometimes that's only by half an hour. I don't feel compelled to check my email or - on some weeks - even turn on my cell phone. Sunday is my day to relax, hang out with the kids, and watch Mike play video games. In short, Sunday is my "guaranteed" day off. But you can't fully appreciate the sun without clouds, and there is one big cloud that hangs over my Sundays. Laundry. In the litany of household chores, doing laundry has to be the least satisfying and the least appreciated. Unlike cooking, washing the dishes, or grouting the shower, laundry is never truly "done." Even if you insist that your whole family spend Sunday in their birthday suits just so all their clothes can get washed, there is always the stray sock or pair of jeans that somehow escapes your notice and the washing machine, never mind that you walked by it a half dozen times while hauling baskets of soi...