Day… Seventeen! We are past the halfway mark!

Today’s question: “What is your most proud moment?”

Psssshhhhh… I don’t know. Is that sad? I was proud of myself a lot in high school, when I was always making the honour roll and cleaning up at the End of the Year awards assembly.  I was proud of myself when I finished 1st year of university with a 11.20 GPA (on a 12 point scale). I know, it’s crazy, I used to be, like, rilly smart-like.

But a single moment? I don’t know. Most of my accomplishments are things that came naturally to me (I claim no responsibility for my body popping out those kids), or they’re things that I didn’t do on my own.  I know when I was proudest of someone else who I’d helped along: my husband, when he graduated into the RCMP after six months away from his family, going through hell to follow his dream and make a better life for us.

Damn right I was proud. I guess I was proud of myself, too, for getting through that six months, but I was with my parents during that time, so I don’t take full credit. That moment was really all AJ’s.

Oh, but here’s one. Maybe not the top of the heap, but it’s something: the first time I wrote a story, when I started getting better after round 1 with Depression. Not only that I wrote it (though that was a huge accomplishment), but that I read it over and thought it was good. Yep, pretty proud of myself then.

Finishing a first draft of a novel after years of false starts and abandoned attempts? Also priceless.

Are you still here? Glutton for punishment, aren’t you? 🙂

Day fifteen asks for a timeline of my day. I assume this means a typical day, and not today, unless I’m supposed to post this at bedtime, which I’m not, so…

I don’t have typical days, but I’ll give it a shot. This is the summer “schedule”:

7:00- wake up. Realize that there’s no need to wake anyone up for school. Struggle with deciding whether to get up and get some writing done while the house is quiet, get up and get some exercise in while the TV is free, or go back to sleep.

7:05- Go back to sleep.

8:15- hear pitter-patter thud-thud of little feet running to the bathroom, then a tinkle-tinkle, then a flush, then a thud-thud, then a “MMMMOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!” as Ike wakes up and wants the TV on.

8:17- turn on TV. Think about going back to bed, realize that resistance is futile, get Ike breakfast instead.

8:30- turn on computer to work. Read blogs, check facebook, click on an endless stream of distracting links, read more blogs, draft blog post to schedule for another day.

10:00- realize that I’m not getting any work done, I haven’t eaten yet, and Simon is still sleeping. Leave computer, accomplish other things.

10:30 to noon- Squeeze in a shower. Try to avoid having to play trucks. Think of ANYTHING else to do with the kids.

11:30- play trucks

12:00 – crap, what’s for lunch?

afternoon- try to squeeze some work in. If it’s a nice day and AJ’s not at work, take Jack for a walk. Think about cleaning up the house… maybe do it.

5:00- start thinking about what’s for supper (which should be ready by now)

6:00- supper

6:30- dishes, cleaning up kitchen

6:45- realize that having a clean kitchen makes the rest of the house look terrible, clean that up.

7:30- if AJ was working during the day, take Jack for his walk now.

7:35- get eaten alive by flies, mosquitoes, and nippers

8:30- bedtime for the kids

9:30- finally get the kids to bed. If AJ is working, WORK.

9:45- get distracted by facebook, blogs, etc. again.

10:00- give up, go to bed to read a book that’s actually finished, published, and someone else’s problem

11:00- start to fall asleep. Promise I’ll do better, get more done, and be a better mom tomorrow.

Next day: Lather, rinse, repeat.

…and once again I find myself scheduling something in advance and thinking how weird it would be if I died and ended up posting from beyond the grave.

Boo!

“If you won the lottery”

How many times have I thought about this? Not so much anymore, though it would be nice, but there was a time when we literally had no extra money. We had a kid, 1.5 jobs between us (because retail doesn’t pay enough to cover daycare), a cramped basement apartment, and a car that broke down a lot. We also had payments on said car, student loan payments, credit card payments… you get the idea.

So yeah, I thought about winning the lottery a lot, though I didn’t buy tickets, because I knew the math didn’t work out.

What would I do now if I won the lottery? Depends on how much I won.

• pay off those student loans (yep, still paying them)
• pay the bills (which we are, thankfully, keeping up on now that my husband has a better job)
• save money to buy a house when we move somewhere we want to settle for a while
• help out with our parents’ mortgages (well, my parents are in an apartment right now… so pay off their summer trailer)
• put money away for the kids to go to school
• send ME back to school to finish my degree (oh, what a dream!)
• laser eye surgery for me (and let’s get crazy, just a touch of plastic surgery on my stomach, just to restore factory settings)
• new wardrobes for me and AJ (oh, the sexy bitches we would be)
• buy a coop and finally get some chickens

There are other things I’d do if I had the money. Visit my family a lot more often, for one, because they’re amazing, and living almost half a country away SUCKS with a capital suck. I’d like a gym membership… when we live somewhere that has a gym. And riding lessons, I’ve wanted those since I was old enough to point at a horse and ask, “Whazzat?”

There would be more books in the house, more crafts to do with the boys, more treehouses in the yard and more whale-watching voyages in the summer. There would be savings in the bank and trips to places we’ve never been before.

OK, so maybe I still think about it occasionally. 😉

I think it’s about time for spellcheck to start recognizing the word “blog.”

What’s my earliest memory?

Um… breakfast this morning?

Seriously, I have a terrible memory. It was never great, and then it got murdalized about eleven years ago. Having kids also didn’t help; I used to have a blog called “C-Section Lobotomy” because I swore they took part of my brain out with my babies.

I don’t really remember my wedding. Childhood is a blur.

This is weird, but here goes. This is my earliest memory:

I’m lying in bed in a bedroom with woodland creatures on the walls. It’s naptime, and bright enough in the room that I’m having trouble falling asleep. Or maybe I just don’t like napping.* In any case, I’m lying there awake, and I hear something. It sounds like an army of soldiers on foot, marching in time.

crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch

march, march, march, march

But I can only hear it in the ear that’s pressed to my pillow. When I turn onto my back, I can’t hear it. When I turn over, I hear it on the other side.

thump, thump, thump, thump

I fall asleep to the sound, knowing it’s nothing to be afraid, but still wondering where it’s coming from.

You have all probably already figured out what I did later, that it was my own heartbeat swishing trough my ears. Like I said, weird memory, but that’s it. Sometimes I still listen for the army in my pillow when I’m falling asleep. I don’t always hear it now; it’s often drowned out by the high-pitched EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE that’s always there. But sometimes I still hear it, especially when I have earplugs in.

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*Weird how many things I like now that I hated when I was a kid. Naps, baths, broccoli, um… that’s all.