Easter festivities have drawn to a close; visits were made to households on each side of the family. As usual, the four of us arrived home Sunday night and (after folding and hanging that pile of laundry I've been avoiding for a week) collapsed onto our bed for the night. I'm positive that we all ate enough calories in candy, alone, to last through at least August, so the skipped meal didn't even matter. Both kids were allergic messes from being out in the wind for two days, and neither of them really mustered up any energy, either. Easter, as usual, left us exhausted just in time to head back to school.
So, school. That's where I am today, or where I'll be soon if you're reading this early. I opened my calendar last night to plan out my week and my week was surprisingly free of obligations. Of course, once I added time for reading, writing, grading and prepping my classes, I now have a standard Heather week of crazy. If I can work really hard and write during my weekday breaks, though, I shouldn't have much to do next weekend.
What I'm saying is, I dug having time off, and I'd like to do it again. My goal is not to work next Saturday or Sunday. We'll see what happens.
This week, I'm:
Reading Paula Bomer's collection, Inside Madeleine. Next in line (I'm ever-hopeful I'll find more time!): Dept. Of Speculation.
Listening to Dubliners, still. I didn't drive or walk much last week, so I didn't make a lot of progress. But today it's back to walkin' and back to work; I should make a dent. And I'm still spending time in search of a new Pandora station (Pandora usually only helps me reinforce my weird music habits, which are mostly about movie scores, awful 90s music pop music, and things that sound like Moby's "Everloving." I know). Lately my hunt for new music means I bounce back and forth between the Indie and Lorde stations... I know, I know. Someone tutor me.
Watching something I never thought I'd watch. In fact, I've been refusing to watch it for three seasons. But E loves it, and I love E. So I promised him I'd watch another E show. (After all, I did get weirdly hooked on Sons of Anarchy, our last together-watch.) I'm watching Game of Thrones. I tried when it premiered and I gave up before the first episode was over. Too many names, too much brother/sister sexytime, and everyone saying winter is coming every flipping five minutes. But. I'm trying again. I'm about five episodes in (he's rewatching with me) and I'm trying to keep Evelyn Napier and the Klingon-looking guy and Barbie with the dragon eggs and the prince who looks like Kes from Star Trek Voyager* all straight from each other and I have to ask questions every five minutes. It's a slow process.
*Apologies to everyone who is not a nerd. I took that last one a little too far.
Making time to walk. My body is an out-of-shape wreck and there are no traces left in me of anyone who used to dance. My muscles ached so badly yesterday from two hours of yard work that I needed round-the-clock ibuprofen. Walking, I can do. (Plus, Hurley Dog needs it.) I'm setting the bar low.
Eating homemade granola with full fat organic yogurt from grass-fed cows. I bought it to compare to my usual Fage, and I am a fan. Also I feel like the health benefits of happy cow yogurt might balance out all those Icees I drink during baseball season. No?
Spending my time at Henry's baseball games and E's softball games. I am pretty sad that I have yet to develop an affinity for baseball, bleachers, leaving my house, or other people. (I thought that might just happen by now?) But apparently you can't undo everything about being a girl who spent all her time in a dance studio. I like to watch my boys play, though, even if the standard sports mom interaction gives me the willies. Go team.
Counting down the days until summer. (Spring Break was so nice!) 38 to go.