2011 Goal Number 1: Get in Shape

Jan 242011
 

(Yes, I know I haven’t blogged about Thanksgiving in Utah, Christmas, Grandma’s passing and funeral, my birthday, etc. But here’s a post, so that’s something, right?)

A blogging friend says she’ll make resolutions after she’s already accomplished them, and I really like that idea. At any rate, here I am a month into the year and ready to admit to what I’m working on. I haven’t quit yet!

On the first of the year, I could barely do a push up. Now my goal is to keep it up: 30 each of push ups, sit ups, jumping jacks, and one leg hops (30 for each leg) both morning and evening. Yesterday morning, I spent about 30 minutes doing exercises and these exercises and I was sweating! My muscles, from the muscles in my shoulders to my glutes to my calves were burning and it felt so good.

My motivation comes from an outside source. I signed up for an exercise class through the park district. It’s a karate class. See, I figured yoga or kickboxing is just a once a week thing: but karate is something I have to be in shape in order to excel at. And to excel, there are stages to proceed through. My class is the 8 years old through adults class. There is a middle aged man and his 20-something son, and the other five boys are between eight and 12.  It’s embarrassing to be the weakest person there.

So anyway, my muscles are burning these days and it feels great!

I’ll let you know what my other goals are once I’ve accomplished something…

My Next Thirty Years

Jan 232011
 
Tim McGraw – My Next Thirty Years .mp3
Found at bee mp3 search engine

In honor of my 30th birthday yesterday!

(Not that I’ve drunk too much beer in the last 30 years, but hey, the rest of the song fits!)

Projects Progress and Thoughts on Cleaning Every Week

Aug 202009
 

In addition to the regular cleaning, in the past two weeks, I’ve made a conscious effort to get some projects done. The highlight was certainly the new water softener, which Ryan put in. It only took 3 extra trips to Home Depot for a plumbing wrench, a new pipe, and a different new pipe.

  • Spray weeds: front, side and back of house
  • Fungicide at trees bases
  • Pull backyard weeds
  • Trim rosebush
  • Replace misc. light bulbs, inside and out
  • Put up shampoo and conditioner dispensers
  • Buy faux plant for dining room shelf
  • Scrub garage door where paint ball hit it (it didn’t clean completely, so we may need to paint it)
  • Purchase and install new water softener (FINALLY!)
  • Order new jeans with my Lands End gift card from Discover

I look at this list and it doesn’t sound like much, especially since Ryan did the dispensers and the water softener. But last week I also went down to Naperville twice, so that took up two days. I’m eager to keep doing projects in the coming weeks.

Further,  this was my fourth week of cleaning the entire house by Thursday night (defined as bathrooms, vacuuming, dusting, sweeping/mopping, cleaning kitchen counters and microwave, etc.). My score card is 4 success/0 fail/52 weeks, although I probably missed something small each week (like I missed the microwave one or two weeks and I didn’t dust one week). My goal is to clean the house every week for 52 weeks.

I’m realizing how great it is to clean every week: I go to clean the toilet in the powder room and think “It’s not even dirty” and what a wonderful thing! It’s never dirty. It doesn’t take long to wipe down an almost-clean toilet. It’s not even a “gross” chore. I go to clean the microwave and it’s mostly clean. I’m pretty big on keeping the microwave clean after I use it anyway, but I think making the special point of cleaning each week means that, like the toilet, I’ll never have to see it bad.

I’m also realizing that cleaning every week is really a superficial thing. Because everything is superficially clean (i.e., the toilets as I mentioned above), I can see the scuffs on the walls and the scratched paint on the door. I see the dirt in the corner behind the door. Cleaning every week is motivation to do deeper cleaning projects on my whole house. I’m going to recaulk the hall bathtub (if I can figure out how) and I’m going to paint the trim on the kitchen window. I only see it because I’m cleaning the rest of the room every single week.

I admit I have been getting lazy, or maybe just efficient. While I spent about six hours the first week, I only spent three hours today. I need to go deeper and get the tubs cleaner (I hate the glass doors on the shower and tub; so hard to clean!). Now that I have soft water again, it may be easier. Where is the lime-a-way?

Am I OCD? Absolutely not. I’m just trying to get in a habit for cleanliness. I figure a year of this, every week, will make it easier. Habits are hard to build and easy to break. Trust me when I say it does not come naturally for me. I’m inclined to ignore the bathrooms until they look icky, as I had been doing.

It’s been said that people get messier and dirtier as they age, and I want to start out as clean as I can be. That’s why I have this silly goal for now when I still feel young.

What are your techniques for not being lazy about cleaning and house projects? I’m up for ideas for making cleaning a great habit.

Projects Progress: August 6

Aug 062009
 

I got the chores done yesterday and today, and I’ve gotten a few projects started this week.

Weeding. Should be regular maintenance. I had not touched a weed since June. Seriously. I spent hours pulling 4-foot high weeds from the South side of the house. Then I sprayed the tiny ones and killed the ants. It would be so much easier if I got them when they’re small! I still hate yard work, but it’s refreshing to be outside. Paul sat in the dirt and dug. He took a bath afterwards.

Pictures. Started. I bought some inexpensive frames and I began planning the family pictures wall. I ordered a few pictures from Walmart.com. I still need to get some updated family pictures from various people, but I’ll wait until after the family wedding this week, because I suspect we’ll get some new pictures!

Garage. Started. I swept out the car half and threw out some stuff on the other half. We had three boxes left from when we moved six months ago, and I finally took them in the house and put the contents away. there is a box full of trash (moving remnants) in the garage. I put half of it in the garbage for pick up this morning, and hopefully they will get the rest of it next week. I’m excited to get the garbage out of the garage! It look so much better!

Dining room deco. Attempted. I went to HomeGoods and looked for some decoration for the shelf. But they only had Halloween decorations, so I gave up on that. The shelf is, I think, too high for a picture or vase. What do I put up there?

It doesn’t sound like very much progress when I write it out, but I hope to be motivated to keep projects going. I’m so proud of my lovely house!

Discipline to Never Quit

Jun 152008
 

I was the only girl dressed as a knight.

You can blame it on the fact that I had two older brothers. They’d also participated in the sixth grade medieval banquet: my mother had already made a knight’s costume. Of course that’s what I wore.

The costume was made of felt: two bright orange and two bright red squares. On the orange squares were red lions. On my head I wore a red felt helmet. I had an aluminum foil-covered cardboard sword and shield. Never mind that if someone actually attacked me the felt wouldn’t protect me at all.

I didn’t care that I was a knight until I saw that I was the only girl dressed as one: every other girl in sixth grade showed up to the medieval banquet as a princess.

The medieval banquet was the end of our lengthy unit on chivalry and medieval times, the culmination of six weeks of learning. Fifteen years later, I can only recall two things about the medieval unit:

1. The banquet at which I was the only girl with a cardboard sword

2. The motto I created for my carefully designed family coat of arms

I don’t recall to what purpose we designed a coat of arms. I suppose illustrating a coat of arms has something to do with medieval times. I remember that mine had four small illustrations and a motto. I don’t remember what I drew; all I remember is the motto.

Never Quit.

I had asked my mother to help me with my coat of arms. She was the one that encouraged me to write “Never Quit” at the top of it as the motto.

“Isn’t that what we do in our family?” she asked me. “We hang in there?”

I nodded and wrote it down. Now, in retrospect, I realize that “never quit” is a perfect motto for me. Having insane discipline to persevere has been my life curse and blessing.

Some of the Curses

  • When I got a term paper assignment on the first day of a term, I began research. This means I spent four months agonizing about it, instead of two weeks or two days like everyone else.
  • When I had two weeks to read every page of Moby-Dick, I did it, not even skipping the whale blubber passages. I didn’t lie on the test, either, when I checked the box that said “Yes, I read the entire book.”
  • When I had a chance to go to the Philippines for a weekend with my husband for free, I declined because I had told my church group I’d be there to help the children prepare their musical presentation. I couldn’t let them down.

Some of the Blessings

  • When I was on the summer swim team, I swam a very slow butterfly. In the 50 meter race at one Saturday meet, I was definitely the last one to finish in my heat. But I did it correctly. When the five other girls in the heat were disqualified for incorrect strokes, I ended up with the first place ribbon.
  • When I don’t like my cooking, I try again. Sometimes it tastes better, sometimes not. But I can tell that I’m improving. My husband says I’m the best cook he knows (although he may be biased).
  • When I faced horrible depression in college, I got up each morning and went on with my day, smiling as best I could. I took one step in front of the other to get where I needed to be. Ultimately, I made it through. One day I found I got up without having to tell myself to get up.
  • When I thought I would die from pain and discomfort during labor, I didn’t give up and instead I gave birth to my son.

I’m becoming less rigid when it comes to discipline in some things. For example, I have no problem putting off cleaning the house! Also, after one class of graduate school, I quit, wholly and completely. I wasn’t going to like it, so I decided I wouldn’t continue it for $2,000 a class. I’ve determined the same thing attitude with books: if I don’t like it, I won’t finish it. It is so refreshing to quit something insignificant every now and then.

Ultimately, though, I’m glad I’m disciplined; I’m glad I hold myself to the standard “never quit” (albeit with some caveats). Even the curses listed above have blessings attached to them: I didn’t procrastinate some things, I could answer honestly and not sacrifice my integrity, I could be trusted to follow through on what I said I’d do.

While it was my sixth grade teachers that encouraged me to declare a motto, it was my mother that instilled it in me.

I look at my mother now, persevering to the end of one of her life goals: a PhD, earned one class at a time, one year at a time, first while being a full-time mom and then while being a full-time teacher. I am so proud of my mother, PhD. She practices what she taught me: Never quit.

That is why “never quit” has stayed with me all these years: my mother. I remember a felt knight’s costume, carefully made by my mother.

To my mother.

(True but loose response to Write Anything Bright Stuff #482: Discipline.)

Procrastination

May 092008
 
  • “Let’s go to lunch next week instead of this week.” I say to my friend. “Or we could go the week after that if it’s better.”
  • Why don’t we invite our visiting teaching sisters for lunch next month? This month is so busy.”
  • “Oh, I’ll read that book later,” I tell myself. “I can always renew it.”
  • “I’ll do a major pantry clean out next month,” I tell myself.
  • “We’ll go to the temple next Saturday.”
  • “I’ll take my Sunday School class members treats next week.”
  • “We can always see New Zealand on the next family vacation. Let’s just take a short trip this time.”
  • “No, we’ll go see Tasmania next month. Let’s stay home this weekend.”

And then we get a call: We want you to come to a new assignment in three weeks. In New Jersey. Nothing for certain yet, but will you plan for it?

Obviously, three weeks is impossible for an international move. But all of a sudden, the next weeks are limited; the next months are gone.

Last June, we entered Australia on a three-year visa. The project’s paperwork said through “September 2008,” but we hoped for two full years. I figured I’d have a walking and talking little boy. I figured we’d have visited all of Victoria and parts of Tasmania and New Zealand and maybe Sydney and the Gold Coast and maybe Ayers Rock. I figured our savings account would have grown (although those two dreams don’t really follow, a girl can dream!). I figured the housing market wasn’t going to tank and that the dollar would be worth a little more when we transferred our money back. I figured I had more time before I had to move my home across the globe again. I figured I could enjoy being cozy in our new home.

Of course, I am excited to be near family again, within a four-hour flight of both sets of my baby’s grandparents and all of my baby’s aunts and uncles. I’m excited to be able to get more variety in terms of consumer goods. I’m excited that things will cost less (relatively). I’m excited to choose a new car for myself. I’m excited to re-enter summer. I’m excited I might be able to go to my friend’s wedding in August. I’m excited that my family might actually call me when my phone number isn’t international. I’m excited that I don’t have to wonder how long we’ll be here (things have been a question mark for a few months).

But now I realize I have to start all over again: the third home and the third ward and the third search for friends in two years of marriage.

I’m realizing now that I shouldn’t have procrastinated being a friend. I shouldn’t have procrastinated making home cozy for my family. The end can, and does, come at any time.

What are you procrastinating? What “end” do you dread (and/or hope for at the same time)?

Castles in the Air and Growing Up (A Little)

Apr 172008
 

It’s been a long time since I’ve read a young adult novel (other than Harry Potter, which doesn’t count), so when I picked up Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women this week, I was at first taken aback by the rosy, generic moral lessons within it. As I began, I didn’t think I’d have much to ponder, since it’s a reread for me. But I was wrong.

At first the moral lessons were a bit silly to me. For example, when the girls want a holiday week, without any chores, their mother agrees and lets them, knowing they will learn their lesson. Sure enough, by the end of the week, they are ready for chores again! If only lessons are really learned that way.

By the middle, though, I was finding myself relating to the teen angst as the girls began courting and dealing with each other and their life dreams. They plan their “castles in the air” for what they want to be doing in ten years, when they are — get this — between twenty-two and twenty-seven.

What’s your castle in the air for ten years from now? My castle in the air is a four-bedroom house with a fenced-in back yard, a few mature trees, and a few children swinging on a swing set and otherwise playing together. But I’ll go where ever Heavenly Father wants me to be and I’ll accept whatever little blessings he wants to send me (or not send me). I never envisioned Australia, and my life now is essentially my castle in the air. I don’t want my life changed too much. I am very happy.

As I was reading Little Women, I really found myself enjoying the story, as childish and “rosy” as it is. Then, during a scene when a character marries, I had a moment of bizarre realization: I’m not one of them. I’m already married. I have a baby. How am I relating to these girls?

It felt so weird to realize that I’m beyond that stage of life. My life has moved on.

Do you ever have moments when you look at your kid(s) or your job or your degree and wonder how you got there? I know I’ve lived each day to get here, but that moment just seemed out of chronological order. How did I get here already?

By the way, Nancy was the randomly selected winner for Buy Your Friend a Book week.

One-Year Anniversary

Mar 192008
 

No, this is not my wedding anniversary: this is my blogging anniversary.

In the past year, a lot has happened. My husband and I moved to Australia. I had a baby. I went from working full-time to being a mom full-time. I learned to cook. I had abdominal surgery.

I guess that doesn’t sound like a lot, but I feel like I’ve learned a lot this year.

In the past year, I’ve written more than 80 posts. Here are some of the things I experienced and learned (and wrote about):

For good measure, here are my favorite recipe and my favorite photographs.

In looking back over these posts, I realize that not many of them have anything to do with being in Australia. I could have learned these lessons anywhere. I guess that’s the point of life: we learn what we need to learn, wherever we are.

As a stay-at-home mom, I know that I need an outlet where I can develop my creativity and my own thoughts. That’s why I like my page: it is mine.

Notice that I call it “Rebecca’s Webpage.” It is not our family page. (I don’t think my husband even reads it; if he does, it’s a month after the fact.) At the same time, I will write about my life, and of course my family is a huge part of that.

This page is my personal forum and journal, online. And I love having a place to write. When I think about this blog, I feel satisfied. And I think that’s the reason I write it.

Reflections on “A Spoon Full of Sugar” and “Just 30 Minutes”

Mar 142008
 

For every job that must be done
There is an element of fun
You find the fun and snap!
The job’s a game.

I’ve been listening to Disney music lately. One thing I bought in the States is a five-disc Disney song Classics collection. I’ve enjoyed the retreat to childhood as I revisit favorite songs and introduce my infant son to “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” and “When You Wish upon a Star” and dozens of others.

Another thing we brought back from the States is a Swiffer and a hundred dry Swiffer rags. This was a gift from my mother-in-law, who believed me when I said that a Swiffer was all I wanted (I couldn’t find them here!). Despite Swiffer’s claim otherwise, you really can’t throw away the broom and the mop — the dry Swiffer doesn’t catch three-dimensional things and the wet Swiffer doesn’t do a great job at kitchen messes — but overall, the Swiffer is a great floor-cleaning tool: it catches the dust and hairs and dirt that just don’t get caught without it. I feel efficient when I’m Swiffering (yes, I believe that is a verb now), and I don’t have to try to catch the mess in a dustpan as I use it.

As I was Swiffering our huge hardwood floor the other morning, I started humming “A Spoon Full of Sugar.” I realized that something as simple as a tool I liked made the task less annoying. Cleaning the floor wasn’t as much of a bother because I felt like I was being efficient. The Swiffer was my “spoonful of sugar” that helped the medicine of cleaning “go down.”

Later, I was telling my husband about a silly website I visited.

“I know I have better things to do,” I said.”But it was fun. Besides, it was just a half-hour, if that.”

He looked at me. “Just a half-hour? How many half-hours do you get every day?”

He wasn’t accusatory at all — I imagine he really doesn’t care what I do. It’s my time. But I realized that this question was coming from a man who had a limited number of “free” half-hours every day. Many of his half-hours are filled with work responsibilities.

How many half-hours do I get every day? And what do I do with all of them?

Yesterday I began a testing process. Here was the test: what can I do in a half an hour? Here’s a list of the chores I can do in half an hour:

  • Shower, dress, and do my hair and makeup (unless I iron my clothes)
  • Clean three bathrooms (at 10 minutes each)
  • Starch and iron 1½ shirts (at 20 minutes each — I’m really slow. My husband usually irons his own shirts, but I really should iron for him, given how many more “free” half-hours I get each day. Maybe I’ll get faster as I do this more often.)
  • Swiffer and sweep, thoroughly, the hardwood floors (lots downstairs, some upstairs)
  • Vacuum the carpeting (three rooms and two large rugs)
  • Dust the bookcases, shelves, and ceiling corners of the house using a Swiffer duster
  • Wash the dishes in the sink (by hand) and wipe down the counters and the microwave
  • Make a quick dinner

Some things take half that time:

  • Feed my son
  • Eat breakfast
  • Eat lunch
  • Fold and put away a load of laundry and start the next load
  • Unload the dishwasher and load it again
  • Wipe the kitchen counters and table and set the table for dinner
  • Tidy the living room (by actually putting things away, not just hiding them)
  • Swiffer, quickly, the hardwood floors

Some things take twice as long:

  • Make a longer dinner (you can’t rush risotto)
  • Get groceries at the supermarket and unload them and put them away

Obviously, some things can’t be done when my son is demanding my attention. (When he wants attention, then I can do some of the fun half-hours: cuddle him close to me, read Winnie-the-Pooh to him, sing a few primary songs, get on the floor and play with his toys.) And how do I vacuum when he’s napping without waking him? But when I put these things in half-hour increments, I don’t feel wrong asking him to entertain himself here and there through the day. Letting him play by himself for 30 minutes while I shower and get ready every morning can’t kill him. Also, he was happy to watch me wash dishes and wipe down kitchen counters because I was talking with him and singing to him as I did it.

As I tested how much of each chore I could get done in a half hour, I felt an urgency to hurry and get it done. It was almost like a game.

The end results were the biggest bonuses. I felt so much better about myself when my hair was done and my makeup was on. I felt a sense of glee when I found that folding and putting away an entire load of laundry took half as long as I thought it would. I felt a sense of satisfaction when I looked at the living room, free of unnecessary clutter, and knew that everything was put away where it was “supposed” to be. I felt very good as I set a well-balanced meal in front of my husband at the end of his long work day.

Those 30 minutes I spent visiting a “who does your son look like?” webpage seemed like “just a half-hour.” It went fast. I think I’ll try to think of chores as “just a half-hour” and maybe that will make them go faster.

Even with the challenge of “how long does it take?”, I don’t think these chores are fun, and it isn’t really a “game” to do them. But I think the satisfaction of having a clean, put-together home is a great reward.

How Do You Read?

Mar 022008
 

In John Steinbeck’s East of Eden, Steinbeck contrasts two of his characters, and I love this imagery:

And the books that came into the house, some of them secretly–well, Samuel rode lightly on top of a book and he balanced happily among ideas the way a man rides white rapids in a canoe. But Tom got into a book, crawled and groveled between the covers, tunneled like a mole among the thoughts, and came up with the book all over his face and hands.

Part 3, Chapter 23

I think I’ve always been like Samuel: riding along a book (especially novels) without really thinking about them. A few months ago, my husband called me a “page-turner”: as long as I’m turning pages I don’t care what I’m reading, and as a result, I can read two pages and not remember what I just read. The bottom line is, I read too fast.

When my husband pointed this out to me, I decided it was time to read more carefully. I’ve been trying to “crawl between covers” lately — that’s one reason I’ve been giving book reports on this blog.

How do you read a book: do you ride the rapids or tunnel like a mole? If neither, is there another image that you can apply to yourself?

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