Thursday, January 28, 2010

In the spirit of living in the moment

After reading what I wrote in my second to last post (let's all just ignore the mental breakdown that was my most recent) Corey and I sat down and had a little chat. By the grace of God, we managed to be on exactly the same page about things and made a decision: we are going on vacation.

Had I known exactly how stressful real vacation planning is, I might have rethought our conclusion, but a week later I am happy to say that we have researched, re-researched, compared, and agreed on a location as well as booked it, paid for it, and mentally packed for it.

We are going on a seven day cruise of the Western Caribbean with stops in Belize, Honduras, the Cayman Islands, and Cozumel, Mexico. Clear water and warm, humid air never sounded so sweet.

We did decide on Carnival cruise lines, which we're a bit leery about given the party ship claim to fame they have, but the fact of the matter is that I somehow became inherently cheap and had we decided to go on Princess we would have gone with a less expensive interior room. Granted, many people stay in those rooms and things go well for them, but let's just say I've seen Titanic and the people with the suites get on the rescue boats first. So, we decided to ride in style on Carnival and take the money we'll save and use it on scuba diving the great barrier reef and zip line rides through the Belizean jungle.

The money vacating our savings account has bothered me much less than I thought it would, and I can honestly say that I think the memories will be worth every penny.

Now I just have to figure out how my parents will survive eight days of their Grand-dog, the Beagador Crown Prince of the Western Hemisphere. May the Lord be with them.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

I want a baby!

I don't have the time or the emotional energy to elaborate on this, but in the spirit of sending thoughts into the universe a la "The Secret", I am saying this out loud (or as out loud as one can get through a computer keyboard anyway).

I want peanut butter and jelly stains on half of my clothes, mud pies on my living room carpet, sleep deprivation, sweet pea puree in my hair, and half of my savings account spent on Pottery Barn baby furniture that never gets used because I can't bear the thought of the kid sleeping more than ten feet from my bed in a pack and play.

If I have to hear one more story of someone we know accidentally getting knocked up when they didn't want kids to begin with I'm going to drive directly to Gymboree and punch someone. Damn breeders.

That is all.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Walking the line

I'm a planner. I'm a super, mega, anal, OCD, planner of everything. I have binders in every room of the house containing daily to-do lists for the next week, savings schedules for this year, grocery lists, weekly menus, gifts to buy for the next get the picture.

I wasn't always this way and had you asked me five years ago whether or not I would own ten notebooks of purposefully varying sizes and colors for specific cataloguing of daily activities, I would have looked at you like you were mad and screamed something about never turning into my mother. But in this way, I very much have. And for the most part, I cringe to admit, it is highly effective and makes parts of my life a cinch.

What it doesn't do is nurture the freckle faced twenty-something that I have hidden inside. She yearns to break free and leave town on a whim, belting out her favorite song through the sunroof while the wind tangles her hair. She wants to leave fertility treatments and pest control appointments in the back of her mind and focus on the way things feel, taste, sound and look.

There are people (I know there are as I have blog stalked them) that take off unexpectedly to go on trips. Maybe they decide to go to an amusement park for the weekend, or maybe they quit their jobs and travel through Europe, staying in hostels for a year. I LOVE these people. And even more so, I want to BE these people. I want to wake up Saturday morning, throw an extra pair of jeans and my toothbrush in a bag and take the boy and his dog to the beach. I want to take ten grand out of our savings account and head for Bora Bora just because we can. I want to go to the airport and get on the next flight, no matter where it's bound.

Sometimes, generally in the foggy haze between asleep and awake, I convince myself that I can be this person. In a split second I assure my conscious self that I am capable of throwing my notebook out the window and going wherever the wind takes us. Then slowly, I feel the cloud lift and reality settle with great density upon my shoulders. Sometimes I even go so far as to make a list of places we could go spontaneously. Then I realize the irony of my actions, ball the paper up into my palm, and open my small brown binder to focus on the tasks for the day.

Very recently, a man I went to high school with passed away. I wasn't close with him, then or now, but that doesn't mean that his death didn't impact me. The fact is that he died of natural causes, as ridiculous as that feels to say about a 28 year old. His lovely wife is having to endure not only his loss, but also the loss of both of her parents in the last year as well. It sounds like a movie you'd never want to watch, and it brings me physical pain that all anyone can do for her now is pray. And as I pray for her I think about what she must miss about her husband and what she must wish they had done with the time they didn't know was dwindling away. I'm certain she doesn't long for more time to do laundry, or wish that the house was cleaner that week. I doubt she yearns for time to move backwards so they could put more money in savings or succeed in more lucrative careers.

If I were her I would long for more weekends on the beach, doing nothing. I would wish we'd used up the forty days of vacation time the boy has. I would thirst to get the time back spent scrubbing muddy paw prints off the microfiber sofa and instead go outside and play with the dog in the rain.

I made several resolutions this year, all catalogued neatly in the blue folder on the kitchen island, but there is one predominant one that I'm adding to the list: "To Identify the Line".

The line between too perfectionistic and too apathetic. Between laundry washed, dried, folded, starched and hung according to color, and piled up in the corner to petrify. Between never taking vacation time and going AWOL to live off the grid in Brazil. Between putting every penny in savings for some yet-to-be-named emergency and blowing it all on Jimmy Choos and mint condition Nintendo NES games. Somewhere between those poles there is a vast gray line with a little less structure and pattern and a little more complexity and delicious chaos.

I want to walk that line.