To Do and Not To Do

This is about impulsions, particularly my impulsions. You see, there are things that I consciously try to accomplish each day, for which lists "To Do" are written. Most every day I write a new list and cross items off as the day progresses. These lists are good. They make a clean home, accomplish projects, prepare meals, help remember the things that I would purposely forget (like making phone calls). And then there is my subconscious. Subconscious is not interested in lists. She's all about spontaneous actions and snap decisions. Impulsions, if you will.

Right now, I work in my church as a youth leader. One theme that presents itself quite often in teaching has to do with decision making. I try to encourage making choices long before the opportunity presents itself, just like Elaine S. Dalton:
"When I was a young woman, I learned that some decisions need to be made only once. I wrote my list of things I would always do and things I would never do in a small tablet.... I made those decisions once, and then in the moment of decision, I knew exactly what to do because I had decided beforehand. When my high school friends said, 'Just one drink won't hurt,' I laughed and said, 'I decided when I was twelve not to do that.'"
That's what I teach. It is a method I endorse. It's what I pattern my own actions after, however there seem to be times, at least in my life, where the situation presenting itself is something I couldn't have preconceived. In those cases, my subconscious enters the scene, carrying in her suitcase spontaneity and a proclivity for impulsions.

The last time I can remember this happening was a number of months ago after the boys were in bed and I had finished my To Do list. For the days previous, the back of my mind had a thought flitting in and out about my hair's need for a trim. Mind you, I usually cut my own hair, so my heading for the bathroom with a pair of scissors wasn't all subconscious.
--Typically, I don't cut a lot. A little cut goes a long way with curly hair. Besides, I never went to beauty school, so I don't really know what I'm doing. How do I get the back of my head? Easy peesy. I cut it upside down so I can see everything I wouldn't normally.--
With the cut accomplished, the trimmings tucked deep in the trash can, and the scissors stowed safely out of any boy's ideas, I was done and just about gone. But then she opened her suitcase and whispered in my ear, "Summer's just around the corner. Cut it shorter."
Silly me, I listened, even with only a faint idea of what I was doing and full understanding that the upside down thing only works if my hair is long enough to see over the top of my head.
And... It was fairly disastrous. I had to call PTB in for some emergency repairs and I still strictly wore a ponytail for the following six weeks.

I have several examples from high school that could have been much more consequential if they had turned out disastrous. Thankfully, but no thanks to that stinkin subconscious, I'm still here and still making rash decisions from time to time. Which brings me to yesterday.

After a morning at home, my list of to dos led me to town --a stop to the doctor's, groceries and gas, and a short visit to my mom's. Just before leaving, my mom called to say that a lady she knew had some kittens. She planned to take my sisters to see them and thought the boys would like to see them too. There's no danger in looking. When the goats have their kids, I take the boys to see them. We stop to look at calves in the fields and are particularly drawn to babies at the zoo. But we never bring any home with us and maybe that's because, for the most part, it would be illegal or at least impractical. I assumed looking at kittens would proceed similarly. Here I was mistaken, because as soon as I saw this little cat and scooped her up, my subconscious whispered, "Patrick would love her."

Here We Are

an infinitely expanding mother
and two brown eyed boys
in t-shirts we dyed last Saturday.

Consequences of Ambition

Sometimes. Very rarely. Ambition knocks me out of my seat and I do something totally out of character. Like homemake two loaves of bread. Then when my true identity returns, I proceed to devour most of the first loaf while it's still steamy.

Part Two

Vacation began at 3:20 Saturday morning after half a night of sleep. We pulled out of our driveway in the green glow of our dash with the boys questioning our sanity and the reasoning behind leaving when it was still so obviously nighttime. We watched the sun rise over the lush Pennsylvania hills, made a brief pass through Maryland and were in DC by lunchtime.
Our nation's capitol is packed full of things to do. It's also packed full of people. The main attraction for us, however, had little to do with the Captiol or its plethora of offerings. We had come to see our friends, the Chaffees. If they were the only sight we saw, we would have been completely satisfied, as would our boys because they loved the Chaffees' children. In addition to spending a couple days and nights in the company of cherished friends, we did visit some sights in and around DC.

(National Zoo)

(Washington Temple)

(Fairfax, VA)

Monday afternoon, the adventure headed north along the Atlantic coast. We raced past Baltimore and Philadelphia, hoping to make it well beyond New York by sundown. The day began in Virginia, made its way around DC, dipped into parts of Maryland,Delware,Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, and landed itself in Connecticut. We witnessed the last shred of light with still another forty minutes before crossing the George Washington Bridge and driving through the heart of the Bronx. Not wanting to stop anywhere near the city, we kept pushing through the dark until we found ourselves, exhausted, part way through Connecticut and very near the witching hour. The man at the front desk of the cheapest hotel we could locate had a very thick accent. Inadequate communication landed us in a room with only one king size bed. We were too tired to complain. As it turned out, cramming our whole family into one bed was a highlight of the boys' vacation.
Tuesday morning led us cheerfully through the remainder of Connecticut, along the coast of Rhode Island, and into Massachussetts, where we would spend the following couple of days. The majority of our time was spent exploring the beaches of Cape Cod where I hoped to teach my sons to love the ocean like I do.

(Plymouth Rock)

(The boys' crab, Sandy Neck Beach)

The last day of our travels was, coincidentally, spent traveling. We made our unhurried way across the westward expanse of Massachusetts and through the first half of New York back to our home. Stops along the way included Adams National Historic Park in Quincy and a quaint Western Mass. town called Shelburne, where at no cost, you can observe glacial potholes, walk over a bridge completely covered in vegetation, and watch glass blowing. And then we were back to the dark, quiet country where our journey began.

(John Adams' home, "Peacefield")

(the trolley ride between the two Adams properties)

(Gerret swinging around a pole in the trolley)

(John Adams' Birthplace)

When in Public, Expect Great Things

I am wrangling two boys and some lunch in Byrne Dairy this afternoon when I hear a deep voice behind me, "Have you figured out how that happens yet?" I realize that the man is referring to my children just as he motions toward my protruding middle. "And that?"
I am completely taken aback. Typically slow to speak, at this moment I can't even grunt a response. I just nod and politely smile as I pull my boys backward toward our escape. The nod is enough for our fellow patron. He grins and says loudly and with enough emphasis so the entire store takes notice, "Well you should quit it!"

Of course, all of the smart retorts I could have made flood my mind as I head out the door and drive toward our next destination. It's almost laughable how forward and utterly rude people can be. I am forever amazed by how quick the human mind is to pass judgements on people --even (and especially) complete strangers.

Our Recent Travels: Part One

We made plans like it was 2005. It was an adventure fit for two.

Packed schedule. Nighttime driving. Back-of-the-car camping. Historical landmarks. Visiting dear friends. Miles by the hundreds. Beach romping. South. Northeast. Then west.

"Let's do everything!" We exclaimed in exuberant anticipation. After all, we'll soon welcome a baby and we know from experience that babies provide for a different kind of adventure. The kind that happens preferably within the confines of our own home. This was to be our last hurrah for awhile and it was decided that we would go for the gusto.

Of course, when we first discussed this journey, we talked about asking my parents to care for our children which explains why we were pretending it was 2005 and just the two of us, but then we never asked my parents. We determined that taking the boys would be fun. So our adventure fit for two became a crazy feat for four. This produced a week that will not soon be forgotten. Additionally, we as parents learned an important lesson about vacations involving children. Next time we plan one we'll be repeating mantras such as "Less is more" and "Simplify, simplify, simplify".

Three

To a little boy, nothing beats bright decorations, a cake with his name on it, and an evening dedicated to opening boxes and bags full of toys and treats. He still talks about it six months later.