Where were you?

Where were you when America made history?  Where were you when we welcomed into America's highest office a man who - just a few decades ago - wouldn't have been welcomed into the same restaurant dining room as white persons.  Where were you when the millions of Americans traveled to Washington, DC just to be in the vacinity of this incredible moment in time?

I'll never forget where I was, because something greater than us stepped in and slowed everything down.  I can't remember the last time it snowed in Chapel Hill.  But, in the wee hours of January 20th, 2009, snow started falling, and today was an official "snow day!"  Translation:  everything in this town came to a grinding halt, enabling us all to slow down from the hustle of our daily lives to take in this moment in time.  It's almost as if this was planned...

So, where was I?  I was in my living room, dancing with my baby daughter as the quartet played an arrangement of "'Tis a gift to be simple, 'tis a gift to be free..."  She laughed and laughed; I'll never forget the look on her face.  As President Obama took his oath of office, she jumped up and down on the sofa, again laughing with glee...not because she was aware of the historical signifiance of this moment, but because both her mommy and daddy were at home in the middle of the week.  But, while she didn't understand the meaning of the day, I did.  And, every detail of this day and that scene will be etched in my memory as I describe it to her one day.  

I am more hopeful for her future today...not because I expect President Obama to move mountains...but because the American people overwhelmingly decided to take a giant step in the "right" direction. 

Back at it.

...the daily grind, that is.  I've been off work for two weeks, and I'm back today (although Monday is my work-from-home day, so I'm still in my PJs).  I got a little weepy last night thinking about having to get back into the hustle and bustle of daily work life.  And, I have a number of business trips (albeit short ones) coming up.  I've had so much joy spending all day, everyday, with the little one.  On the other hand, I don't think I'm cut out to stay home all the time.  I'm not thrilled to be back at work, but I'm welcoming the change in routine.  At least, that's what I'm telling myself...right?

The best gift ever.

Maybe not ever (that would be the kid), but pretty close. My father-in-law gave me an iRobot Rooma vacuum cleaner for Christmas. Now, some folks might be offended by such a gift, but I was intrigued. You see, the Roomba is a robotic vacuum cleaner. Basically, it's as simple as pressing the "clean" button, and the robot vacuums your house. I was skeptical, but it's GREAT. It vacuums hardwoods, rugs, carpets, going from one to the other with ease. And, it even leave those nice, "I just vacuumed" marks on carpet! I can't think of a bad thing to say about the Roomba. I've run it everyday since I got it. Maybe it's just me, maybe I'm freakishly excited about this gadget...but I LOVE the Roomba. You must get one yourself.

Gratitude.

Thank you. Mother Earth, God, Great Spirit, whoever or whatever you are - I simply thank you. I've had this thought everyday since my daughter was born nearly eight months ago, and some days I'm overwhelmed by the gratitude I have...for this gift. I was at the coast the weekend before Christmas and took a walk down to the water; she was with me. There were very few folks around and the weather was beautiful. She and I sat down on a bench (and the pup was with us, too) and, well, just sat. I distinctly remember her sweet face as she smiled, and I remember thinking, "This is what life is about." That's how I feel everyday. Thank you.

Good news!

Good news for me, anyway. Some time with my daughter and a few glasses of wine later, I'm much better able to let the bull@*$#& roll of my back. I'm much more relaxed. Whew!

Martyrs and such.

I'm not much of an Oprah watcher. If I was, I'd use this blog to write about all the things and people I appreciate, and other such warm fuzzies. I do that from time to time...but not today. Rather, I'd prefer to use this blog today (and have done so previously, as you can see) to quickly vent. That's healthy, right? Maybe even Oprah would think so.

I'm not sure from where the tendancy to be a martyr originates. I suspect it's deeply rooted in something as basic as childhood or a low self-esteem, etc. And, if that's the case, I know I should just let the effects of such roll off my back, since the chance that the martyr will ever change is slim to none. But, every once in awhile, it's just too much. Way too much.

Don't do something "nice" for me simply because you know you want something in return. Don't explain to me that I "must" do something out of a duty that's not mine. Don't drag me into your guilt-filled world. Just don't do it. I am thoughtful and kind and enjoy doing things for others. And, in fact, I've been known to do things for folks, "just because it's the right thing to do," or because it was really important to those persons. But, I don't appreciate heavy suggestions that I should do something because I need to reciprocate for an action you volunteered.

I know this may all be confusing and veiled, but it feels better for me to get it out. Here's my point: Be straight with me. Tell me what's important to you. Tell me what you need. Tell me if you're disappointed. I, in turn, will be straight with you (as I already am). And, if I'm unable to react to your every request, that's okay. Because, since I'm a free-thinking adult, it's okay for me to say, "no." That's why it's called a request and not a command.

No, I'm not writing about my husband:) He gives it to me straight; I always know where he stands. Not perfect, but not a martyr. I'm just talking about folks in general, of course.

Watch the Thinker.

"Watch the thinker," writes Eckhart Tolle in his book, The Power of Now. It's been a couple years since I read the book, and I didn't even finish it, but I remember this phrase and point. The context around "What the thinker" is that to truly be in the here and now, you must be able to be outside of yourself...make any sense? Anyhoo, it's not an easy task for most of us, so the first step to achieving that state, says Tolle, is to practice "watching the thinker." Essentially, try to observe your own thoughts as if you were a fly on the wall of your life. Since I read that several years back, I find myself "watching the thinker" quite often. It's interesting. It's frightening. It's annoying.

I realize that there are certain scripts that run through my head a lot. For instance, I'm always trying to please someone/something. I'm always telling myself I should be better. On the flip side, I am easily annoyed when others around me aren't fervently doing the same thing. The good thing about watching all this thinking is that I'm able to try to change the script after recognizing those recurring thoughts that aren't productive to me or others. Now to my point: perhaps the most interesting (and annoying) thing I've learned is that I constantly have thoughts running through my head. All the time. When I'm sitting watching TV, I'm thinking about something. When I'm making dinner, I'm thinking about something. As I sit here and type, I'm thinking about something.

Right now? I'm thinking that I'm slightly annoyed that my husband went to watch football with his friends while I'm sitting here watching a teething, non-napping baby. And, I'm asking myself why I'm annoyed by that...can he not watch football with his friends? And, shouldn't I want to maximize my time with the baby since I'm going to Chicago on Tuesday for a business trip? And, I'm thinking that I need to remember to ask the nanny if she can work on Friday. And, how may bottles do I need to leave Brian and the nanny when I go to Chicago? And, I've eaten way too much junk food this weekend. And, what will I wear when I present at the conference on Tuesday? And, my job...need to think about how I'm going to make the changes I'd like to make...wow that opens up a whole can of worms. Seriously, these are the things that have been running through my head.

Holy moly. No wonder I need a blog. If only I had more time to write.