Neverending Self Improvement

I look like this because I went jogging this morning and still haven’t taken a shower. Why? Because Charlie hasn’t taken a nap yet, and if I try to shower while he’s awake, he will unravel the entire roll of toilet paper, flush it down the toilet, and say “Byeeeeee.”

Hi. Have you met Nap Rage?Friends, Nap Rage. Nap Rage, friends.

It could probably be better categorized as “Lack of Nap Rage,” but that doesn’t sound as good. I’m hoping this is a phenomenon experienced by parents, guardians, and babysitters the world over, rather than something isolated to our apartment. Let me set a scene.

It’s 1:00 PM. Lunch has been eaten, and the cartoons (no we haven’t been watching them all day) have been turned off. The offer to nurse (yes, we’re still hippies) has been put on the table, and the toddler is acting sleepy and cranky . . . nap time, right?
It’s 3:00 PM. Your child is a master of deception. All of that eye-rubbing and whining was simply a sign that he wanted close his eyes for 3.7 minutes, and then play with cars.
It’s 5:00 PM. Your husband is home. He says, “Hi, Honey!” and you emotionally explode on him like a box of rage-flavored Jell-O filled with dynamite.

You see, between the hours of 2 and 5 PM, you begin to realize a few things. First, it is obvious that your child is not going to go to sleep anytime soon. In fact, he will probably wait until about 4:30 to fall asleep if you don’t do something exciting enough to keep him awake. You know the intelligent move would be to keep him awake until bed time, whichshould be earlier than normal. If you let him nap at 4:30, he will not wake up until 7:30, and you will find yourself watching the Wonder Pets at 1 o’clock in the morning.

There is this fear, though. The fear that, by keeping him awake till bedtime, you will trip some trigger in the Nap-Time Continuum and your child will never take a nap again.Gone will be the afternoons in which you actually take a shower, or watch a certain British sci-fi show with scary aliens, or eat a small bowl of ice cream without sharing.

This is a terrifying prospect, and enough to turn anyone temporarily insane. You see, the Nap Rage, isn’t the kind of rage that is a danger to your child . . . the only thing that’s at risk is your brain. You can only think “WHY WON’T HE JUST SLEEP!?” for so long before your brain says “Peace out,” and straight up explodes.

The next thing you realize is that, future napping/not napping aside, you’ve lost your “me time” for the day, and that’s just a bummer.

This was me, yesterday (and, update, apparently this afternoon as well. Awesome.). Luckily, it was Tuesday, which means open gym at Gymboree in the evening. We all hopped in the car, where Charlie proceeded to (of course) fall asleep. Paul dropped me off at the Starbucks (bite me, hipster coffee snobs) where I was able to grab a coffee and just hang out by myself for a bit. I just needed 5 minutes, you know? I walked around with my little 12 ouncer and looked at their sexy travel tumblers, lamented over the change in coffee packaging, and fell in love with some tea cups.

That was a big help. So, here’s where the self-improvement comes in. One of the biggest points of contention between Paul and I is “me time.” I complain about not having any, but when it comes to an open evening, I (for what reason, I’m really not sure) just don’t make plans. Even if it’s just taking the computer to a coffee shop for a couple hours. When it comes time, I just feel like staying home. And then I complain about it the next day.

Why, oh, why do I do this? Anybody else out there the same way? Any advice?

I know that the best advice is to just freaking go, whether I feel like it or not. I get the feeling that, if I knew I had some planned “me time” to look forward to, I could keep the Nap Rage at bay . . . and save my poor, explosive brain.

“Comparison is the thief of joy.”

I’m usually grossed out by blog posts that start with a quote, so I’ll apologize before I’m even out of the gate here. I can’t help it on this one; I saw this quote on Pinterest awhile back and it stuck with me. I’m dusting it off this week because I need it. There’s some debate as to whether it was said by Theodore Roosevelt or a writer named Dwight Edwards . . . but it doesn’t really matter who said it.

Either way, it’s smart.

I’m going to something called an “un-conference” this weekend. This particular un-conference is called Awesome Camp, and basically, I get the opportunity to sit through a bunch of 30 minute presentations from people who are passionate about what they do. It’s called an un-conference because the speaker schedule isn’t actually set until everyone signs up that morning.

I went last year and found it to be a spectacular experience. I learned about everything from Green Smoothies to Twitter’s use as an important political tool . . . and I walked away filled with the excitement that only comes from hanging out with a giant group of passionate people.
The thing about events like this, though, is that I start listening to the bitchy little voice in the back of my brain named Comparison. When surrounded by a big group of successful people, Comparison starts doing what she does best. Feeling crappy about herself because of other people’s success, or getting just plain snarky.

The other thing is that this conference is local. It’s in Lincoln. The people here are no different than me. A good chunk of the women presenting things are stay-at-home-moms, and a few even have the same college degrees as me. For some reason, Comparison thinks I need to be just as put-together/financially successful/locally famous as the other people there.

Then Comparison gets snarky. Whether it’s because she’s admittedly a little bit jealous, or just plain thinks someone’s boots are stupid, she’s fully capable of creating some nasty thoughts.

Now that I know what to expect of both Awesome Camp and myself this year, I’ve got a short list of things to keep in mind, so that hopefully Comparison won’t even be hopping into the car with me this weekend.

First of all, the sole purpose of my going to this conference is for inspiration and re-energizing. I’m in kind of a mid-winter rut, and I need a good “spirit-refresher” to remind me of why I do what I do.

Secondly, I am not any of those other people. What they are doing is right for them, and what I am doing is right for me. If those people have some great ideas, then I will sure as hell use them (in a completely non-plagiarizing way), and I will be grateful that they showed up.

Thirdly, just because I don’t value something doesn’t mean it’s stupid. I may personally think that “working in Fashion” is ridiculous, but other people don’t, so I should just shut up and learn what I can from them.

Comparison really is the thief of joy. There are so many things that should be truly enjoyed to the fullest (parenting, exercise, karaoke) that lose a little bit of magic the second you start comparing yourself to other people. I know I’m not the only one who struggles with this, so if you’ve got some more tips at shutting up your inner Comparison, I’d love to hear them.

I am determined to slap some duct tape over Comparison’s mouth and stuff her in the closet this weekend . . . and Charlie doesn’t have doorknobs quite figured out yet, so I think she’ll stay put.

I think it’s pretty obvious that things are getting rather domestic around the blog lately.

One of my friends told me (and I didn’t realize it at the time, but I totally agree) that my posts had gotten pretty apologetic for awhile there, so I’m not going to apologize for the change. . . but I am going to explain a little bit.

When I first started blogging, the label “Mommy Blogger” left a pretty gross taste in my mouth. I would always think of reading something a little like this:

“Hello friends. Today, little Thelonius pooped. After about two hours, he pooped again. Now, I know you won’t believe this, but that little ragamuffin waited another two hours and will you believe it? He pooped. Also, allow me to demonstrate to you how, with a little elbow grease, you can turn your apron into a toaster.”

Ugh. . . I hate reading stuff like that. I mean, sure, I relied on some blogs to learn about cloth diapering, and I love reading about handy tips and tricks to make my life easier, but I need some variety. . . and I don’t like to read the words of women who seem to have forgotten who they were before they became moms. My main goal when I started blogging was one of self-preservation, and focusing only on the mommy stuff would be pretty counter-productive in relation to that goal.

However.

That anti-mommy-blog-mentality was turning out to be a huge mental block for me. You can only pretend to be something you’re not for so long before it starts backfiring on you. I’m not sure exactly what I was pretending to be, but it definitely wasn’t myself.

I am a mom. I am a wife. I am still a Victorian Literature lover, but on the few reading-breaks that I get, my brain is looking for something a little easier to process. I still like Theatre. . . but I have no idea what to do with it right now, and I definitely don’t have time to do it.

What I’m doing right now is raising Charlie and being married to Paul. I’m trying to figure out how to make Charlie’s and my time as meaningful and enjoyable as possible. I’m trying to figure out how to manage our home so that Paul’s and my (very precious and rare) time together is as meaningful as possible.

So rather than trying to philosophize about crap I have nothing to do with, I’m going to turn my focus a little more inward. My writing is more enjoyable when I write about what I’m actually experiencing, rather than stuff I’d like to think I’m experiencing…if that makes sense.

I know I’m not the only person in the world struggling with the balance of domestic life and the preservation of their previous goals and self-image. Hopefully, by getting it all thought out and organized here, I’ll be able to make room for the other stuff I’d like to accomplish. . . and I hope that I’ll provide a little help to anyone else who feels the same way.

So, that being said, look out for more toddler activities, calorie (and mouth)-friendly recipes, non-boring (hopefully) stories about our days, and personal musings. A little different, and, hopefully, a little better.

Short one today. I need a little help from you guys again.

You see that cute kid over there? The one lazing about in his pajama pants watching tv? That’s a pretty good representation of how I’ve been feeling.

The past couple of weeks have been seriously lacking in motivation. I have (holy crap, thank goodness) developed plenty of motivation for blogging again, but I’ve lost it for all of the other stuff I was doing so well at. (I realize that a preposition is dangling at the end of that sentence. . . but I tried it the right way and I don’t like it as much. So there.)

Counting calories has become tedious for me, and since I’ve lost so much weight already, I’ve gotten complacent. By the time Charlie goes down for a nap in the afternoons, my motivation to exercise gets entirely thrown out the window.

For awhile there, I had all of these plans to get organized (I even went so far as to drive to Family Dollar and buy a bunch of plastic totes) and keep the house clean. Now there’s a pile of dishes in the sink that almost hits the ceiling.

I’ve been to all of the “clean your house in 15 minutes a day!” sites, and I know how to get organized…it’s just a matter of feeling like doing it.

Do any of you have some good motivational websites up your sleeves? I’m not even sure if I know what I’m asking for here… Some kind of site that isn’t syrupy-sweet and “dance like no one is watching”-stupid, but will make me want to GET THE EFF UP OFF OF MY BUTTand get stuff done?

Thanks, in advance, friends. I think the entire Bonk household will be appreciative of your input.

Okay. Back on track. No more of this “one post every two weeks” crap.

It’s the weekend. The weekend before school starts up for the Spring Semester, and I’m having trouble waking up before 8 am. This is not good. Ideally, I’d love to wake up at 5 every morning, get in a workout so I don’t have to worry about trying to fit it in during the day, get some (daily!?) blogging done, then make Charlie breakfast.

If you could pass that info along to Charlie, I’d really appreciate it.

Sadly, if I don’t go to sleep before 10, and if Charlie wakes up and flops around for an hour or so, 5 o’clock is simply not happening.

So, yes, Christmas break is almost over, and I’d say we’ve done a pretty good job of making up for the days we missed due to our vomiting parade. I think I’m actually ready to change my gears and be productive this semester.

Now, I may not the be the person going back to school, but it’s time for me to buckle down this semester, too. We’re going to work out a schedule in which Paul is at school a lot more than he was in the fall, and I’m going to have to work on dealing with it.

Sometimes my Self is a little…selfish.

Paul and I keep our marriage pretty 50/50. On the days that he’s home all day, he helps with things like cleaning and handy-man things, which is awesome. On the days that he works all day…he’s tired. And for me to expect him to come straight home and make dinner (like he has been during this break) or clean the bathroom, is pretty uncool.

Is that saying that I don’t work all day? Of course not. I definitely work all day taking care of Charlie, and I’m definitely tired. Do I have the option to take a nap, though? Yeah, I do. It might be a nap in which I get punched and kicked in the face by a toddler, but that just helps me get to sleep a little quicker, right?

Anyway, my point here is that I really need to find some kind of system to deal with keeping the house clean during the week without Paul. I would much rather spend time with him and Charlie than have one of us clean while the other relaxes. If I could just get things figured out, we could (gasp!) both relax at the same time.

Or, rather, we could both try to relax while we chase Charlie around.

I know it shouldn’t be hard, and I know that I’ve blogged about this before… Obviously it’s one of my problem areas…too bad they don’t make target zone workout DVD’s for your domestic problem areas.

“Cleaning Skills of Steel”
“8 Minute Organization”
“Ultimate Emotional/Domestic Balance Total Makeover”

Those titles are gold, I’m telling you. Anybody with mad organizational skills better snatch those up and make a fortune…and give part of it to me.

Or, at the very least, give me some advice. You guys have any?

Whoah.

Did last week seriously happen?

Yikes. Yeah…yeah it did. Here, pull up a bean bag…I’ll fill you in. (I don’t have any bean bags…but I’ll bet even imaginary ones are comfy.)

First of all, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all you guys…I hope they were all awesome for you. Some of them were awesome for us.

Christmas was a little hectic but totally fantastic. Good time with family, good food, a long-awaited coffee date with one of my favorite bloggers, and honest-to-goodness homemade eggnog. That stuff was, how you say, le bomb.

What I really need to talk to you about, however, is New Years.

Now, I hate to focus on the negative, but if I don’t find a way to pull something positive out of a crappy situation, then I’m not doing a very good job at keeping up my optimistic label. New Years and the days leading up to it were utterly lame.
After the Christmas festivities, we headed to Kearney to spend time with Paul’s parents and our friends. I ended up going out on Wednesday night for the first round of Karaoke I’ve done in almost 4 years. (I know, I know… 4 years!? When I did the math, I could barely believe it either.) The Karaoke was so much fun. Some of my favorite people were there, and I even ran into one of my favorite people in the whole wide world from High School.Love Shack, Material Girl, Waterfalls, and Stay, (My Karaoke Staple) were sung, and I came home super happy.
The next night, Thursday, was Paul’s and my night to go out to dinner and grab a few beers with our mutual friends. Paul’s mom and dad were babysitting, and the night was ours. We went out to dinner, had a great meal…

And then I got the flu.

Now, I’m not talking about the “Man, I’m so tired and my body hurts and I’ve got a fever,” flu. I’m talking about the “Man, I’m so tired and my body hurts and there is an epic battle of such terrifying proportions being waged in my stomach, that both sides of fighters have decided to violently flee the scene,” flu.

Yeah. Sorry.

So, there we were, stranded at my poor in-laws’ house, while I loafed about feeling like crap. Charlie didn’t understand why I wasn’t getting up to play with him, so he cried at me and pulled the blankets off me all the time. Paul, who had been taking care of both of us, got rewarded for his efforts by…

…getting the flu. On New Years Eve…right about the time everyone is stressing out about finding someone to kiss. By this time, our trip to Kearney had lasted two days longer than it was supposed to, and Charlie had decided that my cell phone needed to take a leisurely dunk in my Gatorade. I’ve successfully filled my brain with images of a trash can that hadn’t been emptied, half of our apartment being burned down, having an eviction notice stamped on our door, and random, surprise bills cropping up that I had forgotten to pay.

I’m happy to say that we did remember to take out the trash. Halfway to Omaha we remembered that we actually took out renter’s insurance this time, so even if our apartmenthad burnt down, we’d be okay…and all of our bills are paid and we blissfully got to sleep in our King-sized bed last night. And Charlie NEVER got the flu.

Life…is so good.

So. It’s a new year. People are making resolutions. That unpleasant stretch of days has helped me decide on mine:

I will not let outside circumstances ruin my outlook or my attitude. I will look at the cold, hard, facts of what I have, and I will appreciate them, and use them to power through my rough patches.

I know this can be more easily said than done…but I think that 2012 might be a little tough in the needing-to-stick-it-out department, and I need to make a conscious decision to be positive. Also, I need to take more pictures of Charlie. Oh, and I seem to have forgotten the most important resolution of all:

I will get a flu shot.

Who’s got resolutions? I want to hear ’em!