I have a PLANNER, and I am USING it! Yes, dear friends, I have vowed to be more organized this year, and with all the irons in my metaphorical fire (mom, wife, job, writing, other family, maid, etc.), this has made all the difference. Something else, too… I’m not just putting Things To Do on this list, but also unplanned things I’ve accomplished. So, for example, if I spontaneously make a pair of earrings, I make a note of it.
Oh! And something else… I’m keeping track of my writing time in this amazing contraption! (AND my bank account!) So, when I feel like I’m a stagnating pool of Good for Nothing only capable of harboring mosquito eggs (I kind of grossed myself out a little with that one.), I look back at my planner and realize that I, somehow, carved 50 minutes out of last week last to write 481 words. That is 481 words closer to the end of my first draft, which should fill me with joy. But if that doesn’t help the BLARG feeling, I look at the days I marked Mommy/Son time and remember his sweet hugs and the way he looks into my eyes when he laughs.
Husband has sung the praises of his planner for two years-ish now, and I have finally, FINALLY, acknowledged his song. (I’m stubborn, and I’m working on it.) Now we are a duet, and I am here to tell you I get more done with a planner in my hand than I did without it.
I have a Two Page a Day planner so I can have my work list on the right, my personal list on the left, my bank stuff on the bottom left, and personal appointments or important notes on the top left.
Also, it’s pretty, and studies show I am 50% more likely to incorporate pretty things into my life. (The other 50% is reserved for broken things because I love them.) (Wait…I don’t think that math makes sense…)
So, if you are on the fence, Planner or Not to Planner, tip the scale to Planner, try it for a month, and if you don’t like it, you’re doing it wrong. Ha!
Later!
The New Year is Upon Us
Hello to y’all and to 2014!
Christmas travels are over, Blue can get back to some semblance of routine, and on Monday, I head back to work. Everyday this holiday break I wrote down daily to-do lists and goals, and I can honestly say that this break has been the most productive. Even if I just wrote, “watched 3 seasons of Luther“, which incidentally I did and it is AMAZING, I KNOW what I did that day. I have a forgetful mind and this helps remind me how productive (or not) I am. I liked this practice so much that Husband introduced me to his Day Planner website. (Don’t judge him too harshly. He’s hot when he’s nerdy.) He’s been trying to sell me on it for a while. He’s such an adult, he’s had one for years.
Husband asked me what I was doing a moment ago, and I told him I was making my New Year Resolutions. He scoffed and went on ignoring the tickle of doodles I drew on his ankles. I now have 10 purposefully written resolutions that I hope to complete by the end of 2014.
5 are writing related, 4 are craft/art related, and 1 is health related.
This is a step up from last year when I had a touch of the postpartum and had a two-month-old child. Actually, it was more than a touch. Postpartum was slathered all over me like tar, and I constantly felt like people who were supposed to love me were hiding boxes of feathers. Thanks to an extremely supportive (and resilient) Husband and friends who liked me in spite of (and sometimes because of) my crazy, I’ve come to the other side of it. Goals have become such a large part of my daily life, I’m taking it a step further this year and resolving to finish these resolutions.
This is the year of Finish Lines.
This is the year of Doing.
Of working hard and seeing accomplishments.
I am primed and ready!
So, good night all! There are Things to do tomorrow!
Nostalgia, You Foul Thing
Wow, but I have just been smacked in the face. I was listening to an interview with Carrie Mesrobian, author of Sex and Violence where she spoke, among other informative topics, about nostalgia in young adult authors. Specifically, how there is a tendency to put our characters in trying situations and have them react in a way that we, as learned, experienced adults, hope they would, rather than have them react as an unexperienced, naïve, or impulsive teen would. Now, if it’s in my character’s nature to act beyond his/her years, then so be it. But not every character will be motivated to make well-thought-out decisions about EVERYTHING in his/her life, especially when they are at emotional odds. Also, not every character who does make an impulsively poor decision is a Bad Guy.
As someone who had a conservative teen experience, I look back on why I made the reserved choices from the decisions I was allowed to make, and doing so, I discover that I didn’t make “right” choices because I weighed the Pros and Cons of the situation and resolved that the result was moral and just in society’s view while it upheld my personal resolution to remain pure and unmarred by the wicked, wicked world. No. I made the “right” choice because I was fearful of the consequences presented by my parents if I weren’t to choose what they brought me up to choose, and if I were honest with myself, I was fearful to experience things outside of my comfort zone because I knew NOTHING of the outside world other than what my parents and my church told me. I don’t want to discuss religion and children, but I do want to discuss my teen cowardice and the way it is affecting my current writing.
I could have removed the veil of fear and judgment from my head and observed the “outside world” for myself, spoke to others on the border of my comfort zone, listened to their needs, desires, likes, dislikes and maybe I would have seen that I had nothing to judge or fear because my longings and their longings were the same. We could have been friends. But what if I didn’t come to that conclusion? At the very least, it would have been my conclusion and not other’s opinions that I took to my heart as fact. And that was my fault. No one else’s.
I know this now as an adult, and I purposefully keep my mind and heart and eyes open, but my teen main characters are as scared as I was to make impulsive, experimental decisions. I brought those same emotions from Way Back When to my writing and unknowingly grasp at them for character development—which totally sucks. Why does it suck, you ask? Currently, both my male and female Mains would rather talk menstrual cycles and ball sacs than discuss anything about their possible relationship or emotional fortitude. That’s why.
So, thanks to this interview, I am aware of my problem. I don’t want to dwell on the idea that after years of reprogramming, that mindset is still hiding inside me. I don’t want to brood in the gloom of What Was with arms crossed, sullen expression, and furrowed brow… as I am mentally at this exact moment. I want to step back; realize, once again, the past is the past; analyze it for what it is; and finally, use it to present life changes in characters to tell a good story.
Why was I fearful? What did I miss while I hid? What other emotions mixed with the fear (shame, guilt, regret?)? Would stepping out from under the shelter of complacency change anything, or would I have ended up the same as I am now, only with different experiences to get me to this exact point? What are the extremes? Answer—timorous reserve and dauntless openness. And somewhere in-between….. Well, hello, there, Beginning of a Character Arc. It’s nice to meet you.
Thankful
No surprise that in November, protocol requires me to write a thanksgiving post. I love November because everyone acknowledges things they’re thankful for. Today that is me.
As much as I try to be Mrs. Positive Pants everyday, sometimes that is so stinkin’ hard. It’s a little easier in November because lots of people try to be Mrs., Miss, or Mr. Positive Pants, and I feed off the positive energy like a leech. So here I am, hoping to feed you some jolly juice, my fellow Leech, you.
There are the big things…family, my tiny home, my ability to pay for said home, friends, good weather…
I am so in love with my life, even as I struggle to make it better. I think this is possible because I figured a few things out. First of all, I know that I strive for worthwhile goals. The past five years have been so enlightening for me. In some aspects, I feel like I didn’t really start living MY life until then. So now, I’m a 30-year-old goal seeker, and I’m just fine with that. Sure I wish I would have been one of those people who figured things out in high school or something. Who wouldn’t? But instead of dwelling on all the lost opportunities(which benefits nothing, I found out), I’m trying to make the time I have left so very meaningful. Being a mom helped me realize how much I can squeeze into one day. I told a friend of mine just recently that I didn’t know how lazy I was until I had Blue. You don’t have to have a kid, however, to be aware of how you spend your time.
Secondly, I’m finally my own person. I care about other people, true, but their words and opinions don’t rule me, and this…this is freeing in a way I never expected. At Blue’s birthday party, I was able to tell someone close to me that I didn’t want multiple pictures of every, single gift as he “opened” it. As someone who has been to multiple kid birthday parties, I didn’t want to torture my guests in that way. There are so many other ways, like making them watch my kid splatter cake all over himself and others for twenty minutes while I hold the food hostage until he’s done. The point is, even though the person was obviously sad about not being a photographer for a day, It didn’t cripple me to tell them to sit down and enjoy the show. It’s my son’s party, gift time is awkward, and I didn’t want to prolong the awkward moment. The end. I would have said nothing or worried my head off about what the person felt after I did say something 6 years ago.
So, between a loving, supportive family, worthy goals, and being unabashedly Me, I am the happiest and the most thankful I’ve every been in my life.
I don’t want to lie to you.
Bad things happen.
To me, to people I love, to people I barely like.
But because of those Big Things I grasp like a winning lottery ticket, I am able to deal and still be smiling at the end of it.
When bad things happen to people I love, people I barely like, and even people I kinda don’t like, I try to be that supportive person I know they don’t have because, if they did, they wouldn’t be talking to me.
So there’s that.
There are little Happies, too!! Oh, good gracious, aren’t there!!
Today, my attitude completely changed because I popped a bag of salt and lime natural popcorn. It AMAZED me. Suddenly, I saw flowers everywhere. Birds sang on my shoulder. Bunnies frolicked in the breezeway.
And it dawned on me:
I could be this happy everyday if there was enough salt and lime popcorn in my desk drawer!
No. That’s not right.
I could be this happy everyday if I let the happy small stuff do their thing.
Let yourself laugh out loud at that funny quote, Mea. Don’t be a professional robot.
It’s okay that you like to scotch tape mailouts closed, Mea. You work in an OFFICE and don’t even have to pay for office supplies, so really, you’re a winner.
And if salt and lime popcorn can make birds sing, share.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Open Eye
Disclaimer: This is a plea for human decency and an open eye for compassion. The names of the schools are irrelevant. I am not contesting the final score of a high school football game. In fact, if the students who won deserve congratulations for playing with such heart.
This past weekend, a friend of mine and her friend took their children to an “away” football game. One of the children, a twenty-two year old, physically handicapped, sports lover is fully confined to a wheelchair. Her family makes attending these events a priority because of the enjoyment they experience together. This game put two rivals head-to-head, like Donaghy against Banks (If you don’t watch 30 Rock, they are super-duper rivals.), like Perry the Platypus and Dr. Doofenshmirtz (If you don’t watch Phineas and Ferb, they are super-duper rivals.), like Captain Kirk and Kahn (If you don’t watch Star Trek, I’m through with you.) Needless to say, the winner of the game obtains bragging rights over the opposing team until next year’s game.
The car they drove had a handicap tag, and they followed the signs for the handicapped parking. The parking attendant, however, refused them use of the designated parking lot. The mother of the handicapped girl pointed out the handicapped parking sticker, though it was already prominent. They were again denied the closer parking, claiming that it was only for the home team’s handicapped only and directed them to the opposite side of the entrance, far from the visitor’s seating.
This might not seem like a big issue to some people. Just walk the extra yardage and deal with it. But when you have struggled to lift the weight of an adult into a car, a 50 pound wheel chair into the trunk, a 20 pound pack with everything you might or might not need in case of an emergency, and a million pound smile to make sure the other “normal” children and friends know that everything is okay, even when it’s not, saving a few yards of strenuous walking means a lot.
And what about the child? She tries to be as independent as she can, but there are challenges, like using the restroom and reaching things that people with legs and arms can reach without procuring another person, that wears on her spirit, whittling away her self-esteem and self-worth. Sometimes, it’s easier to manage these oppressive feelings, but when something happens and they slap you in the face, there is no way to pretend you didn’t feel the sting.
This was not the only handicapped family turned away from the designated parking area.
Dear Parking Lot Attendant,
Shame on you.
Shame on you for allowing a sports competition to affect your sense of human decency.
Shame on you for hardening your heart so you don’t know when to practice compassion.
Shame on you for turning away those who openly need help.
Shame on you for acting superior to other human beings.
Shame on you for making everyone in those cars and vans struggle unnecessarily when they have already struggled so much.
It would have cost you nothing to direct the cars with a handicap sticker to where they belonged, which means that you chose to be cruel for the sake of cruelty.
Shame on you.
Because this may seem like a generalization, I note, it was one adult who treated multiple people this way. It’s so quickly, though, that one person can turn into fifty, fifty into a hundred, and for that reason, I am writing this. I call resolution, that we, as a community, won’t let the degradation of other human beings spread. I put forth my hope that this was a one-time event, that this was one person’s warped sense of school pride, that this type of behavior will not be accepted.
Is this rivalry between two schools a legitimate reason to treat people so poorly, handicapped or not?
The answer to this question—no matter your religion, no matter the color of your skin, no matter the label on your car, no matter how prominent your last name is in the community, no matter how much money is in your bank account, no matter how much talent is in your little finger—is a resounding No.
If you thought for an instance otherwise, please check yourself.
Is any reason a legitimate reason to treat people with cruelty?
The answer to this question—no matter your religion, no matter the color of your skin, no matter the label on your car, no matter how prominent your last name is in the community, no matter how much money is in your bank account, no matter how much talent is in your little finger—is a resounding No.
If you thought for an instance otherwise, please check yourself.
Life is worth more respect than you give it sometimes, even if it doesn’t look the same as yours.
Feeling All Kinds of YAY!
On September 19, 2013, I sent off the first draft of FirstNovel Part I to CP. I am feeling all kinds of YAY right now. I was a week behind the deadline I set, but in the grand scheme of things, that didn’t really matter. Why? Because it was my deadline with no other motivations propping it up and because, well, I didn’t pummel myself for missing the deadline and give up. I trekked on and finished it. Which is something new for me. I’m liking this perseverance characteristic I’ve acquired. I’m liking that it’s there because I’ve placed more value on Me. (Yes, I used a capital M. I’m that awesome.)
Part II outlining is already commencing, and I look forward to working my ass off. Who says that? People who love what they do, that’s who. And, currently, that’s me!!!!
It’s Banned Books Week, and in honor of banned books everywhere, here is a video for your enjoyment.
I hope you are getting closer to your writing/life goals! Feel free to share! I love celebrating, and I can e-celebrate with You! (Yes, I used a capital Y. You’re that awesome!)
Aanndd…I’m off!
Blue’s First Beach Trip
Husband, Husband’s mother (GiGi), Blue and I went to the beach. It was Blue’s first time and the results are as follows:
- Blue loved, I mean LOVED, the sand. It fascinated him. All things he discovered in it fascinated him, like grass, old bottle tops, and cigarette butts. Public service announcement: If you smoke on the beach, please, for the love of God, trash your butts somewhere other than NATURE where others will be.
- He tolerated the ocean. He didn’t like water crashing into his face for some reason. He did, however, like the calmer water where he could splash at it at his leisure, which by the way, is adorable.
- Pools are the way to go with little Blue, especially if they have a “beach style entrance” and fountainy things in the super shallow part.
- It is very, very hard to keep a napping schedule on vacation.
- To my and Husband’s surprise, it is very hard to find a covered floating device for small children in large, beach souvenir shops. (Husband finally found one at Target…Wierd, right?!)
- I love the privacy and cooking situation in condos.
- I love the Publix grocery store.
- Don’t forget to bring/buy salt and pepper and cooking spray when getting food for the length of your stay.
- While succeeding in making small spaces look larger, mirrored walls also make me self-conscious and prevent me from living in my state of self-image denial.
- I love beach sunsets.
- I love beach breezes.
- I love the smell of saltwater in the air.
- I loved pulling out a shirt to wear this morning and it still smelled like a beach breeze.
- I love the feel of the sun on my shoulders.
- I use the word “love” a lot.
- I look hot in sunhats. Also, the sunhat was a good idea because when Blue wouldn’t wear his sunhat, I could remove mine a create a semblance of shade.
- One-legged seagulls warm the cockles of my heart.
- If you wear glasses, invest in a pair of prescription sunglasses. They saved my bacon! (You can get cheap ones from Zenni Optical’s website. Like $20ish)
- Fresh seafood is so much better than any other seafood on the planet. So. Much. Better.
Wow, there are more bullets than I thought there would be. I guess I had more things to say than I thought. It was such a good time, and I’m so thankful for Husband and GiGi being so awesome and helpful with Blue. Great company! Great trip!
I’ll end with a photo display of our trip.
Laters!
~Mea
Ramblings
I entered a contest where I had to condense the plot of my story into 250 words or less. I thought Oh, this won’t take very long. Three days later I am finally happy with the summary, and I even had to call in my CP to help straighten out some kinks. I’m a bit embarrassed about that. There are so many interesting (or at least I think) plot points that I would love to include, but at the end of the day, what is important? Writing the summary helped me understand that the interesting goings on in the story make it unique and fun, but the plot and characters drive it from point A to point Z. I think I will write a 250 summary for all my future stories and keep it in front of me, so when I get off track, I’ll be reminded of where the story and characters are headed.
Just a thought…
Have a groovy day!
JULY?!
July is here. Where in the world did my year go? I suppose it’s orbiting around the eight month old wonder. Blue is growing too fast. I told him yesterday (because he can understand and contribute to our conversations) that he needed to start growing down rather than up because Mommy’s heart is going to crack when he gets too big to give her hugs.
We went on a trip together, Blue and I. On the way to our destination, we had to pull on the side of the highway because he decided to poo Every. Where. Then he was hungry. So I fed him in the green, green weeds flanking the Louisiana highway. About an hour later, Blue was not to be consoled. So I found a large souvenir shop where he and I both found our own alligators. See? (As tempted as I was, I did not take Sasquatch the Alligator home with me.)
We had a lovely time with my good friend, her two children, and her mother. I had a gorgeous room, which was where I decided that I liked painted brick.
(He was just playing adorably.)
There are great thrift stores called Red, White and Blue in New Orleans and in a little town just over the Mississippi River called Gretna. The profits benefit veterans and they have great stock. Blue racked up! Also, I want to marry Whole Foods.
And…yup…That is all.
Later!
Father’s Day Awesomeness
We Rocked Father’s Day. Now, let me preface with this: Husband and I don’t do Valentine’s Day and such because we believe in showing each other we are awesome everyday, but since it was the first for each of us this year, we celebrated Mother’s and Father’s Day with as much abandon as we could muster. So to recount the events, I’ll begin here:
Blue woke up at 5:30am. I jumped up and let Husband sleep. Present number 1 (because it wasn’t my morning).
He woke at 7:30am. His job for the day? Play with Blue. I did the grocery shopping and came home with breakfast. Then, I started cooking Special Father’s Day Lunch. I don’t cook a lot, Guys. So…Present number 2.
Three and a half hours later, we had a lovely salad, homemade chicken pot pie, and red velvet cupcakes for dessert. I bought the cupcakes.
After lunch, Husband played video games while Blue took his afternoon nap.
When he woke up, we went outside to play, where I got these sweet memories:
And
Winston the Pup was there, too, but he doesn’t stay put for long.
Then we went inside and listened to Wilco’s Hotel Yankee Foxtrot on wax. Present 3.
Husband likes to collect mugs so Present 4 was just that.
It’s from this Etsy store if you like it.
Because it took me almost 4 hours to cook lunch, dinner was pizza. Husband didn’t want to wait that long for me to cook something else. Thank God.
After dinner we played with Blue. The most memorable game: Improv Finger Puppet Theatre.
Husband isn’t the GO-TO-A-RESTAURANT-&-WAIT-2-HOURS-TO-SIT-DOWN kinda guy, so instead we stayed in, and though he had to wait 3 and a half hours for a mediocre chicken pot pie, at least he got to use his own bathroom during the wait.
I hope he feels like we love him more than our luggage because, in fact, we do. He makes our family a Family. He stands strong when I need a LeanTo. He’s makes me laugh, and he makes me feel pretty. He’s the best dad. He’s my Favorite. And all those Halmark-type things. Happy Father’s Day, Husband.
Mea Smith 