I'm just gonna bullet-point it

• I got picked to test an iPad app in exchange for $35.  I won't say the name of the app, because that's just mean, but it was so boring.  It was basically a simulation game, along the lines of Farmville or Frontierville, except the whole thing was based on planting and harvesting flowers/fruit.  I don't enjoy gardening in real life, why would I enjoy doing it on my iPad?  In the questionnaire about the app, it asked who I would recommend the game to, and I felt like writing "people I don't like."  But I was nice and didn't. 
• But speaking of flowers, I just finished the best book, The Language of Flowers.  It's the story of a former foster child who ages out of the system, and whose only marketable skill is a talent for flower-arranging.  It's the current front-runner for my favorite book of 2011. 
• I am next supposed to be reading Agatha Christie's Sleeping Murder, because I found out it was on the bestseller list during the week in which my play script is supposed to take place, and I thought I would include some sort of tie-in.  I got it on Kindle, though, so it's sort of a "past meets present" kind of thing.  
• My car failed the state emissions test for the license plate renewal.  The guy at the testing booth said, "Your car failed because of this code," and he circled a numerical code on a sheet of paper.  I asked him what that code meant, and he said he didn't know.  REALLY?!  Am I the first person to ever ask that question?  They don't have a computer system or a book or something to look it up?  Anyway, I Googled the code, and it said the problem was "fuel system too lean."  Now, this has to be the first problem I've ever had in which something was too lean.  So, I had to take the car to the mechanic twice, first to determine the problem, and then a week later after the part was ordered to have the work done, and it cost $731.  And now I have to drive it for 150 miles, under certain specified conditions (tank half-full, 15 miles on the freeway going 55 mph, etc.), and then I have to have the mechanic retest the car and give me a form saying I passed.  And then I have to go back to the state testing facility and do the test again.  I think it might have been easier if I just pushed the car over a cliff.  Fortunately for the people who make money off these car repairs, Illinois doesn't have a lot of cliffs.  
• I need another job, like, really badly.  At this point I might even be willing to go sit in a cubicle some days during the week, under florescent light, drinking bad coffee, if it meant I'd be out of this funk where I feel useless and bored.  
• I went to Zumba again today.  It was pretty good.
• I got the Martha Stewart Living Halloween edition.  
• Tomorrow is my town's annual fall fest and chili cook-off. 

This Procrastination is Exhausting

I've been in a bit of a funk.  And yet my anxiety level is so sky-high I can feel my heart beating a thousand miles an hour.  I feel so overwhelmed and stuck. 

I'm supposed to be working on this script for the park district.  I have been procrastinating. 

I'm just so tired. 

The details of everyday life are bringing me down.  Like the other day I discovered I was out of a particular type of vitamin, and I was just like, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" as if it were the worst crisis of my life. 

Today we had no water due to a broken water main down the street.  That was just the last little kick in the pants toward complete hassle-dom, and eventually I begged Nathan to go on some errands with Bill so I could take a nap.  And then I actually drooled into my pillow.

I'm gonna go.  The words aren't coming right now, which is why I used the term hassle-dom.  I'm sure there's a better word, but I can't think of it right now.  That's all. 

Happy Nappers?

First of all, if you have children in your house that you allow to watch television, you probably know the title of this post comes from a stuffed toy that is advertised incessantly during children's television programs.  The commercials feature a catchy jingle, that, if you click on that link, you too can have stuck in your head for the rest of the day.

Happy Nappers are sort of like the coveted Pillow Pet, in that they are stuffed things that convert to other things, and in that they are completely stupid but still have some sort of irresistible quality you can't quite put your finger on.  Look at that, a castle turns into a dragon!  A penguin turns into an igloo!  Let's order one!

Naturally, Nathan has done his fair share of begging for the toy, since his general M.O. is to find a way to spend the largest portion of my money that he possibly can.  (Like, seriously, yesterday at the library I suggested we check out a DVD of Rio, and he said, "Great, and then if we like it we can buy it at Target."  WHAT?!  NO!) 

Now, as I said, I find the Happy Nappers kind of adorable and sort of want one myself, but I had to turn this into an Important Parenting Moment and tell Nathan he could earn the Happy Napper through my favorite tool, the incentive chart.  The deal is that if he can get through a whole day without saying "I hate you!" he gets a sticker.  So far he has 3 stickers, and even those were gained through a bit of charitable rule-bending.  I'm guessing by the time he fills up that chart, he'll be past his teenage years and, I hope, no longer interested in Happy Nappers.

But whether we get the thing or not, here's is what I want to tell the kid:

You can't have a Happy Napper, because you won't take a nap. 

Now, Nathan has not taken a nap since he was three, and although I was initially thrown for a loop, I've mostly come to appreciate the positives of having a non-napper.  We no longer have to plan our whole schedule around naptime.  Nathan usually goes to bed more easily than he did in his nap days, and there's never that issue of, Oh crap, he napped until 5:00 and now we have to find a way to tire him out so he'll go to bed.  Plus I think he sleeps later in the mornings than his napping friends do, and if it comes between sleeping in or getting a nap, I'd probably pick sleeping in. 

And honestly, while I do have some fond memories of the nap era (namely of leisurely naps of my own), I remember spending a huge percentage of his napping years getting stressed out.  First there was the complete lack of predictability of naps during his infancy.  There was the complete sleep snafu that happened when he was switching from one nap to two.  (That transition coincided with the worst of my depression, and let me tell you, getting up with a 12-month-old at 5 a.m. in the dead of winter, and then having that kid take some random nap between 10 and 11:30 a.m. and be done napping for the rest of the day, that doesn't work wonders for your mental health.) 

I'd say the only time Nathan was dependably napping at a set time was from about ages 1 to 2, but then we had the "nap trap" situation.  I knew that 11:00 a.m. on was a danger zone to be in the car, because if the boy fell asleep for even ten minutes, his body would think he was done with his nap and that would be it for the day.  I recall keeping him awake in the car by tapping on his leg, singing, talking, giving him a sucker, letting him drink a soda ... by any means necessary.  Not only did we have to be home from noon to three, we had to be out of the car at any time that the car might put him to sleep.  The mere mention of any activity between the hours of 11 and 4 made me nervous.

Then when his naps became less dependable, that was so stressful, too.  I would put him down at 1:00 and he'd carry on for like two hours, and then finally he'd sleep from about 3 to 5, at which point, !@#%.  This actually is the era where Bangy-Nose Pooh got his name, because Nathan would bang Pooh's nose on the side of his bed in an effort to protest napping.

Oh, and I think we're all familiar with the nap-delaying poopy diaper.

So, for all those reasons, I wasn't altogether sad when Nathan stopped napping.  As I said, there was the initial period where I seriously didn't have any clue what to do all day, because up until every day had been divided into two distinct periods: Pre-Nap and Post-Nap.  What was I supposed to do to entertain Nathan all these extra hours in the middle of the day?  Oh, and also, he didn't know how to handle being up all day.  He wasn't quite tired enough that he needed a nap, but he wasn't energetic enough to make it through the day without getting ridiculously crabby.

Slowly, though, we adjusted to no naps.  Nathan has a mid-day "quiet time," which, I admit, is not altogether quiet in that it involves the TV.  I like the flexibility of the quiet time; it doesn't have to be at a specific time, and nobody is really adversely affected by the skipping of quiet time on some days.  I like that Nathan has the whole day to get tired, and not that I have to tire him out first to take a nap, and then later to go to bed.

Now, let me pause and say that I absolutely blame myself for his giving up naps a little on the early end.  During Nathan's napping days, I wasn't one of those parents who insisted that the nap schedule be respected at all costs.  You know like, "Oh, Joel McHale and Tina Fey are coming to town to host the Adorable Kittens and Chocolate Festival?  Sorry, I can't go, my kid has to take a nap."  There were just honestly too many other factors to work around to make sure we were always home for my kid's nap.  For example, my husband is the type to not really be ready to start the day until about 1:00 p.m., so the choice was sometimes between giving up naptime or never being all together as a family.  So I made some choices when it came to naps, and I'm pretty sure his giving up naps was my fault.  (Although, thankfully, this article says it probably isn't my fault.  Maybe.  And it says that when he gave up naps, that was a sign that his brain had matured in a certain way.  Though, you know, not in the way that signals that a complete meltdown in McDonald's is a bad idea.) 

But all issues of blame aside, I've accepted that naps are in the rearview mirror.  And I mostly say good riddance to naps. 

Except lately I've done a complete 180 when it comes to my beliefs on naps. 

I've decided all children should take naps until kindergarten. 

Why?  Because there just isn't enough for them to do all day long during the preschool years. 

Lately we've been operating on a schedule that's pretty busy in the mornings.  I personally get up, get the dishwasher emptied, tidy up in the kitchen, do some laundry, feed Nathan and the cat, get Nathan dressed and ready for the day's activities, work out, run errands, do some sort of professional-ish activity, sometimes transport Nathan to/from activities, and make lunch.  The mornings are usually exhausting and productive, and after lunch we're tired and overstimulated. 

It's not the time to start some big, new activity.  As last week's McDonald's episode illustrated, even something as simple as a fast-food playground might be too much for Nathan in the middle of the day.  We do go to the library or an occasional errand, and we like the park when the weather is nice, but ... there are just so many hours to fill in the day. 

Also, I need Nathan to conserve his energy for the evening hours.  He has soccer practice Wednesdays at 6, and sometimes I have 4:30 obligations at the gym, and I don't want him to be a total meltdown-y wreck by then. 

And sometimes I'd just like him to have enough rational brain cells left to realize that it's a better idea to just eat that one required bite of whatever at dinner than to sit there at the table whining for 45 minutes.  

Plus I often have work-related tasks I need to accomplish in the afternoons, and I feel guilty parking Nathan in front of the TV or computer games.  Wouldn't it be easier to just take a nice nap? 

And, of course, there are days like today, when it's cold and rainy and just perfect for a nap, or days like yesterday, when I worked out so hard at the gym I just wanted to lie in bed, and those are the days when I wish my kid would still nap. 

So, what I'm proposing, children of the world, is that you all take a regular, predictable afternoon nap until the day you start kindergarten.  At that time you will be given the Get Out of Naps Free pass and can proceed to stay awake all day for important learning and extra-curricular activities.  Sound good? 

Bend It Like Nathan, Which Is, You Know, Not At All

Nathan's main strength as a soccer player is that he looks adorably cute in his uniform. Here he is taking the field for his first soccer game on Saturday:

His team is called the Purple Dogs. 

His first position was goalie:

Not one attempted goal came his way the entire time he was goalie, because most of the action was on the other side of the field.  Soon Nathan was relieved of his position and another kid got a chance at goalie.  So now he was out on the field with everybody else.

Well, he was with everybody else until the ball came, and then everybody else ran after it while Nathan stood there and looked the other way:

I'm told a lot of kids are confused like this their first year of soccer.  I myself was intimidated by the ball when I played soccer, and I was ten.  So I can understand why Nathan was a little bit overwhelmed by the end of the game:

He just needed a hug:

I don't care that the child isn't showing an immediate aptitude for soccer ... EXCEPT that I was kind of counting on soccer to give him some exercise and wear him out.  As it is right now, he's the only kid coming off the soccer field brimming with energy. 

But, like I said, at least he looks cute in his uniform. 

SuperIma Sunday Check-In: It's Probably Still Sunday Somewhere, Right?

Yesterday I felt the need to write a post about September 11, and then I did a whole bunch of other chores and activities, and took a brutal spin class at the gym.  So, having been up since 6:00 a.m. for the memorial service, at the end of the day I was too exhausted to write my check-in.

Honestly, the whole week tired me out.

Now, every time I go and complain about my petty problems, I feel the need to add qualifiers and say that I understand that my problems are minor, that there are people in the world who have far worse problems, that I myself have had far worse problems, yadda, yadda, yadda.  But, in terms of Stressors: Petty Mundane Category, this past week was a bit of a challenge.

I was so excited to get back into the routine, and I still am, but I also realized (again) that transitions can be hard.  Transitions are hard on adults, but they're exponentially harder on small children.  Honestly, I think it was all the excitement and newness of school starting and a new babysitter and soccer that led to Nathan's HUGE meltdown on Wednesday.

And I, myself, felt a little meltdown-y at times this week, though of course my meltdowns were tempered by adult maturity.  But still, all this routine and discipline?  All this exercise and peppiness and being good?  That's exhausting.

(Not that I was all that good.  I definitely used food to console myself this week.)

Then on Friday I forced myself to listen to several hours of a local radio station's 36-hour telethon for Children's Hospital.  Family after family coming in to tell their horrific stories of children with cancer, children who died, month after month stuck in the hospital.  One family reported a success story about their son, four years cancer-free, getting to play in his first soccer game.  The DJ talked about how many listeners out there were headed to youth soccer games this weekend, complaining about the hassle of it all, and how much this one family cherished the simple everyday opportunity to see their son play soccer.

It's the kind of thing that definitely gives you perspective, but it also makes you sad.

And I need to stop and mention here a fellow blogger, Anna See, whose 12-year-old son drowned this week in the aftermath of the D.C.-area flooding. The blogging community is coming together to support her and her family, and I'll let you know of any support efforts in the future. 

Then yesterday was Sept. 11, and I felt the need to reflect, and to mourn, and to remember.  It was a hard end to a hard week, although I will say that I experienced a very positive moment last night.  I watched Nathan and a bunch of other kids playing tag in a park, this park that was once an army base, that was named Patriot's Park in honor of 9/11.  And I saw, right there, the ultimate evidence of something good coming out of something bad. 

And so another week begins.  I'm not even going to talk about my goals from last week, because I failed miserably at those.  Sitting down to write this play script, it is so hard.  I am such a procrastinator.  It's easy to buckle down and meet work deadlines, but it's hard to sit down and force myself to write this creative script that's due, I don't know, sometime in October.  I pretty much found every excuse imaginable to avoid doing that thing. 

On top of that, last week was the first week in awhile where I didn't have any freelance work, and I miss work.  When I was busy with work, I didn't get so stressed about stupid stuff like my house being messy, but when I have nothing but idle time--or, more accurately--time when I should be doing something else--I just sit around and feel guilty. 

I want more work.  I don't know how to set a weekly goal for getting more work, because some of this is sort of at the mercy of forces outside my control.  Maybe I will just will it to happen, you know, like The Secret?  That works, right? 

Also this week I'm going to focus all my efforts on being a good Weight Watcher.  I went to the meeting this morning, and the leader asked everybody to rate their daily Weight Watchers score on a scale of 1 to 100.  We all talked about being at a 100 on Mondays after the meeting, and then maybe another 100 for Tuesday, but then the will power diminishes throughout the week so that by Friday we're not even trying.  The leader challenged us to be at an 80 for the whole week.  So, that's where all my energy is going this week, to being at an 80.  Everything else will have to slide. 

And now go and visit original SuperIma LeighAnn, whose life is on the upswing!  Yay!

The House Budget Committee

There was one goal I didn't talk about in my September of Self-Improvement post.  Honestly, I didn't want to admit to this goal because that would be admitting to my embarrassing shortcomings.

But here it is: I am not on top of my household finances in the way I'd like to be.

I'm not saying that we're in some kind of massive debt.  Well, I mean we're not in any kind of credit card debt.  Obviously we have some debt in the form of student loans and mortgage, but those debts are more just realities of life than major financial blunders.

Let me be clear: We are not irresponsible with our finances.  It's just, up until now, my budgeting strategy has been "Have more money coming in than going out."  Which, you know, is kind of a good financial strategy in its most basic form, but I think we can do better in terms of being aware of where our money goes.

Like, are we putting away as much as we can for retirement?  Are we putting our money in the smartest type of fund possible?  Could we cut back more on the smaller things like groceries and the utility bills?

Answer: Utility bills, yes.  Groceries: probably not, because we have three people in our family and we each like a different type of milk.  Milk, right there, is costing about $20/week.  Additionally, this could be a post in and of itself, but I think everybody has to determine his/her own personal strategy when it comes to grocery frugality, because some people are okay with the level of energy/time expenditure it takes to scour grocery ads, clip coupons, and shop at a variety of stores, while others are not.  I, personally, am not.  I'll clip the occasional coupon for a brand-name item when we insist on getting the brand-name, but otherwise I find you're just better off getting the generic.  And, if given the choice of two similar items, I will pick the one on sale, but I do not scour ads to find out about sales and then draw up some kind of detailed multi-store, coupon-laced shopping battle plan.  

But I digress.  The point is, I want to be more in control of my finances.  I'm not suggesting I can understand the finer points of finance in one month, but I can take the first step and be more aware of how we spend. 

So, I set up an Excel spreadsheet.  The sad thing is, I had forgotten how to set up an Excel spreadsheet.  At first I thought I could get around my lack of Excel skills and download a pre-made budget spreadsheet template.  And while I did find several templates to choose from, all were a bit too complicated for my liking.  They were all broken down into a bazillion categories, things like "electric bill" and "clothing," and then they had a column for the amount budgeted and another column for the amount actually spent. 

Now, first of all, that is like the graduate level of budget spreadsheets, whereas I needed to master Budget Spreadsheets 101. 

Secondly, I am far too over-analytical to ever break a budget down like that.  I get to thinking things like, How can I budget a set amount for electricity each month, when the electric bill is way higher in July than it is in January?  Or, If I buy light bulbs at the grocery store, does that count as groceries?

Instead, I just want one big category called "Credit Card Bill," which, yes, is very vague because it includes everything from car repairs to groceries to Nathan's preschool tuition, but that's about as specific as I want to get right now. 

So, I needed to make a basic In/Out (a.k.a. Credit/Debit) spreadsheet.  Again, I totally forgot how to create such a thing.  I found an online tutorial created by the Microsoft people themselves.  I felt like an older housewife trying to get up to speed before re-entering the workforce after being home with her kids for many years. 

The tutorial went very slowly, starting with "What is a spreadsheet?" and, "Note that spreadsheets have columns and rows denoted by letters and numbers."  So I fast-forwarded, got the information I needed in about 90 seconds, and ... voila! ... my budget spreadsheet was born! 

The spreadsheeting is going okay.  It's hard to remember to put an expense in the spreadsheet and pay it online.  And, really, I'm kind of feeling like the online banking really was sufficient for keeping track of finances, so the spreadsheet might be a little bit overkill.  Which, phew!, I wasn't such a complete failure before, but also I guess it is good to break it down a little more and become more aware of expenditures.  I think awareness is particularly important in these days of direct deposits and withdrawals, when it's very easy to just sort of view your money matters as kind of all just happening outside your control. 

And yes, I know how lucky I am that I'm not living hand-to-mouth with a dwindling wad of cash that we store in a shoebox.  I am aware that a huge percentage of the world lives like that, or even worse.  But as a person whose money moves around electronically, I have responsibilities to keep good track of it and make sure it's being used wisely. 

And I've been meaning to do this financial analysis for quite some time now.  I remember once declaring "October of Financial Improvement."  That was probably October 2009, and unfortunately I was a total flake.  So I'm hoping after September of Self-Improvement's financial spreadsheet-making, I can pave the way for 2011's October of Financial Improvement.

Oh and also, I really need to stop coming up with dopey theme months. 

September 11, 2011

This is a photo I took this morning at 6:15 a.m., during a 9/11 memorial at the park.  The local firefighters raised a new flag.  We learned that the park, formerly an army base, was nearly completed when the attacks on Sept. 11, 2001 happened.  It was slated to be named Greenfields park, but after the 9/11 tragedy it was renamed Patriot's Park.  

The best I can say, ten years later, is that I still don't know what to think about 9/11.  I know I have feelings about 9/11, fear and anger and sadness, but I don't know what to think.  It seems to me that on a ten-year anniversary, you should be able to look back with the perspective of time and come up with some answers, some reasons, some sense of a bigger picture.  Yes, that day was horrific, but the fear and grief were still so raw and we didn't know where the world was going from there, or if it was going at all.  But now, ten years later, now we know that ...

...

Nothing.  We still don't know why, we still don't know what will happen next, we still can't wrap our heads around the horrible and unspeakable tragedy.  We reflect back, because that's what you do on an anniversary, and all we can cling to are memories.  We go over and over them in our minds, as though we can find closure.  Where were you when you heard?  Remember the week after when ... ?

And our minds are immediately plunged back to that horrible time.  I remember when my neighbor called and told me to turn on the news.  I remember collapsing to the floor in agony when the news reported that the Sears Tower was being evacuated, both because Bill was in Chicago, and because Holy Lord, the whole country is being attacked.  But even then I went about the business of the day, not fully aware of the unspeakable tragedy that had just unfolded.  On my way to work the news reported that the first tower collapsed.  I was so numb in shock that I didn't comprehend the magnitude of that.  A tower collapsing.  People crushed.   

It wasn't until that night when I sat, glued to the news like everybody else, that I broke down.  I saw the people who jumped out of the building.  OMG the people who jumped.  I don't think I will ever get over the horror of that.  You saw the pictures of the people flying through the air, the guy with his tie flapping in the wind, and you just couldn't even comprehend, that is a person, about to die. 

I saw all the paper that blew down.  There is just something so everyday about paper, in an office, hundreds of offices doing business, and the everyday-ness of it makes it so much more tragic.  These weren't people on the front lines of a battle.  These were people sitting in cubicles writing memos. 

But the worst of it all, to me, were the fliers.  The hundreds of fliers that families posted, depicting missing loved ones.  Each one with full-color, glossy photos of a person at his or her wedding, or with his or her children.  Please contact us if you have any information, they'd say.  And you'd know, sitting in your living room across the country, that the outlook for these people was grim.  But you also knew that the relatives had to make the fliers so they could do something, because the worst thing to do would be to sit still.

And all over the country you saw people trying to do something, trying not to sit still.  We bought out the entire stock of flags and patriotic goods at our respective local stores.  We came together.  We sang songs.  We gave money.  We worried and we prayed.

But we never found answers for why or how could this happen?  We never will. 

Still, for me, it is important to stop and reflect.  I realize that there are some whose coping strategy is to move on, stop thinking about it, go on with life because otherwise the terrorists win.  I don't think their coping strategy is any better or worse than mine is, just different.  I need to stop and remember.  I need to watch news coverage and go to a memorial service and make September 11 meaningful. 

But I also know that tomorrow I will feel relieved.  I'll still remember September 11, of course, but I won't dwell on the tragedy and the confusion tomorrow.  I'm reminded of a quote from George W. Bush's speech on the one-year anniversary of the attacks:

"Tomorrow is September 12th." 

Now, Lord knows the man said and did a lot of stupid things in his presidency, and I'm fairly certain he didn't write the 9/11 commemoration speech anyway, but there is something so powerful about Tomorrow is September 12th.  There is so much hope in that statement.  Because no matter how horrible the tragedy of September 11, no matter how few answers we'll ever have about the events of that day, we have to have hope.  We have to get to September 12. 

However, I'm fully aware that not everybody has the luxury of September 12.  For the families of those lost that day, or for the people who experienced that horror firsthand, or for those first responders who suffer from medical conditions resulting from the toxic air at Ground Zero, recovery from 9/11 is an almost insurmountable task.  It is those people I keep in mind today.  I it those people will need to support and lift up, to help bring them to their own personal September 12ths.  Because although none of us will ever have the answers, we do have the capacity to respond to tragedy with compassion and hope. 

As for me personally, I'm grabbing hold of a little bit of that hope and commemorating September 11 like a lot of Americans, both remembering the loss and celebrating life.  I'm spending this gorgeous fall day with Nathan, and cooking a big chicken for Sunday dinner with my immediate family. 

And, in this way, I will create a little glimmer of good in the face of unspeakable tragedy.  Because that's what we, as humans, do: We try to find a way to make something positive out of something horrifically negative.  Ultimately, that's all we can do. 

What we can't do, is find answers.  We will never find answers.  But we can remember.