I have two blog posts nearly finished, but they need to simmer right now because they seem kind of rant-y. I have another blog post that I know I should write, but I don't wanna! (Please read that with the tantrum-like tone I intend it to have.)
We have had some sweet, photo-worthy moments in the past two weeks, but our camera died. Of course it did! (Insert some teenage drama here.)
As I type, Julian's dining-room corner is covered (and I do mean covered) in far-flung steel-cut oats. There is a ginormous pile of school and medical papers just from yesterday waiting to be filed. Ish's bookbag with the broken zipper is sitting right on top of them all. My hair is going rainy-day crazy, I still don't have a babysitter for when I volunteer at the school this afternoon, and I keep letting the answering-machine take all the calls. I don't care! (Again, the tone. Maybe some crossed-arm huffing, too.)
The funk started the night before my grandfather's funeral. The weather added to it, as did our new experimentation with Julian's medicine, awaiting results from Eli's bloodwork, and a bit more rushed schedule as we fit all-the-things in after losing Tuesday to travel and grief.
Funks are a part of life, and the more I experience them, the more I am learning what to do in the midst of them. What is working right now:
1. Physical movement. Every day this week, the big J and I have been making sure to get outside and get some exertion going. Even today in the misting rain, he sat cozy in the bike carrier as I felt the burn in my quads, covering miles. It is such a win-win: I get the good endorphins, he is content to sit and enjoy scenery, and I can get lost in my thoughts without him feeling neglected.
2. Do what I have to. Clearly, deadlines and responsibilities are unavoidable, so even though I am not in the mood to pack lunches, schedule appointments, and make sure I get all the notes written to the school, I do them. Funk or no funk, I am still a grown-up.
3. Don't do what I don't really have to. I am not in the mood to cook more than I have to. I am not in the mood to work on projects. I am not in the mood to clean. So I am not doing those things. Instead, I am building towers, reading books, and tickle-chasing Julian. Then when he naps, I work on things I am in the mood for, like the weekly Sunday School assignments, PTO secretarial work, writing blog posts that may never get published, and Halloween class party planning. Those other things will happen eventually, but anything that is going to increase my funk needs to wait. My family does not need to suffer from anything more than the underlying funk I've got going as it is. (I recently melted my iron right to my stove-top, so at least I don't have to worry about ironing until my next shopping trip to the "big city". Thanks to quick-hands/tall-height Julian recently creating a breakable-dish massacre, there aren't as many dishes left to wash, either...)
4. Neither fight nor embrace the funk; make it my tool. I can fight a funk and pretend it isn't there (while all around me know otherwise). I can embrace a funk, deepening it and wallowing in it. Or, I can make it my tool. In the quiet of my bike rides, I think through events that have contributed to it. I think to the week before, when I felt increased joy and patience in my roles. I use the funk as a barometer, as a self-evaluator. I am its master, not it mine. And when I've gotten all of the true use out of the funk that I can? I send it on its way.
And that's the scoop from funky-town. Check ya later when the cloud lifts and I borrow Eli's camera. Happy weekend!
We have had some sweet, photo-worthy moments in the past two weeks, but our camera died. Of course it did! (Insert some teenage drama here.)
As I type, Julian's dining-room corner is covered (and I do mean covered) in far-flung steel-cut oats. There is a ginormous pile of school and medical papers just from yesterday waiting to be filed. Ish's bookbag with the broken zipper is sitting right on top of them all. My hair is going rainy-day crazy, I still don't have a babysitter for when I volunteer at the school this afternoon, and I keep letting the answering-machine take all the calls. I don't care! (Again, the tone. Maybe some crossed-arm huffing, too.)
The funk started the night before my grandfather's funeral. The weather added to it, as did our new experimentation with Julian's medicine, awaiting results from Eli's bloodwork, and a bit more rushed schedule as we fit all-the-things in after losing Tuesday to travel and grief.
Funks are a part of life, and the more I experience them, the more I am learning what to do in the midst of them. What is working right now:
1. Physical movement. Every day this week, the big J and I have been making sure to get outside and get some exertion going. Even today in the misting rain, he sat cozy in the bike carrier as I felt the burn in my quads, covering miles. It is such a win-win: I get the good endorphins, he is content to sit and enjoy scenery, and I can get lost in my thoughts without him feeling neglected.
2. Do what I have to. Clearly, deadlines and responsibilities are unavoidable, so even though I am not in the mood to pack lunches, schedule appointments, and make sure I get all the notes written to the school, I do them. Funk or no funk, I am still a grown-up.
3. Don't do what I don't really have to. I am not in the mood to cook more than I have to. I am not in the mood to work on projects. I am not in the mood to clean. So I am not doing those things. Instead, I am building towers, reading books, and tickle-chasing Julian. Then when he naps, I work on things I am in the mood for, like the weekly Sunday School assignments, PTO secretarial work, writing blog posts that may never get published, and Halloween class party planning. Those other things will happen eventually, but anything that is going to increase my funk needs to wait. My family does not need to suffer from anything more than the underlying funk I've got going as it is. (I recently melted my iron right to my stove-top, so at least I don't have to worry about ironing until my next shopping trip to the "big city". Thanks to quick-hands/tall-height Julian recently creating a breakable-dish massacre, there aren't as many dishes left to wash, either...)
4. Neither fight nor embrace the funk; make it my tool. I can fight a funk and pretend it isn't there (while all around me know otherwise). I can embrace a funk, deepening it and wallowing in it. Or, I can make it my tool. In the quiet of my bike rides, I think through events that have contributed to it. I think to the week before, when I felt increased joy and patience in my roles. I use the funk as a barometer, as a self-evaluator. I am its master, not it mine. And when I've gotten all of the true use out of the funk that I can? I send it on its way.
And that's the scoop from funky-town. Check ya later when the cloud lifts and I borrow Eli's camera. Happy weekend!
Comments
Post a Comment
{Please help us maintain a little bit of internet anonymity by not including our last name in your comments.}