Category: Getting Things Done

Testimonies to the daily grind of getting things done.

Things That Make Me Feel Accomplished

Time Out

I think I may have stumbled upon a revolutionary new tool to aid me in Getting Things Done. Recently my watch broke, and while I was in Minnesota I bought a new one at Target. Today I discovered that, among many other cool features, it has a TIMER function, which makes Ruthie’s Time-Outs so much more portable and spontaneous because I don’t have to march from room to room looking for where I last set the kitchen timer.

But ALSO, since I am the Queen of Distraction when it comes to staying on task, I set the timer for 15 minutes today while I raced around the living room picking up all the clutter from our return home yesterday. Then, since I was on such a roll, I set the timer for another 15 minutes and cleaned off the front porch which was beginning to look more like a storage closet than a welcoming extension of my house.

And now I am rewarding myself by taking a break to put my feet up and surf my blog reads… with my timer set.

It’s all very Flylady.

Speaking of blog reads, I fiddled a little with my template again. I figured out how to add my Bloglines feed list directly into the sidebar, so now you have complete access to the influences in my head. And whenever I update this list in my Bloglines account, it automatically updates the list you see in my side bar! I love html.

The Post Wherein I Describe Everything I’ve Done This Week All At Once Because I Have No Time.

IMG_2120

Ruthie now thinks all daddies take airplanes to work. She asked me that when her little friend left the other day and she asked if he was going home to see his daddy. I said his daddy was probably at work, but that he would see his daddy later. And she said, misusing her pronouns in the cutest way, “Her daddy take an airplane to work, too?”

On Wednesday the kids and I drove up to the Tulip Fields as I’ve done almost every year since I can remember, with only a few exceptions. We drove up in two car loads of four moms and six kids, ate a picnic lunch, and let the kids go wild in the dirt. You can see proof that boys will be boys here (pardon the sideways video, I haven’t had time to figure out how to rotate the image). This is the first time I’ve ever gone with other kids Ruthie’s age, and they were a fun little gang of toddlers to watch. Every time Nor said, “COME ON, ROOFIE!” I just wanted to pinch her, she was so cute. They are all such good friends when they’re not hitting each other or pulling hair. You can see all our Tulip Adventures here.

I rode up there with a good friend who has neither a computer nor access to the internet, so I can blab about her all I want on this blog and she’ll never be the wiser!

The guys finished most of the work downstairs, so I’ve been painting. Which is why I have not been writing. Can you even comprehend how difficult it is to paint WHITE primer on top of WHITE drywall mud and wall texture??? At any rate, the painting is slow going because on my shoulder is a muscle knot the size of a grapefruit. After about an hour my arm hurts so bad it radiates to my neck and head and I can’t move my arm or open my eyes. I’m beginning to wonder if we should have just paid the guys to paint as well. If you’re curious, here is what the room looked like before I started painting. We now have new windows around the entire basement!

I will now leave you with a Dora reference. Today at lunch Ruthie was muscling her way in to Bryan’s hummus, using her grimy fingers instead of anything like, say, a snow pea or a carrot. Finally Bryan says to her, “Hey Swiper, no swiping!”

Ruthie stopped and just looked at him. Blinking, I suppose, just like Dora might have in such a situation. Then she says to him, “No, I’m Ruthie.”

She’s a literalist to the end. That’s my girl!

Basement Remodel Saga: Part III – The Insulation

Installing the insulation.

The guys put insulation in all the walls and the ceiling yesterday. We wanted insulation not only to make it warmer, but to help muffle the sound between the basement and the main floor. It’s exciting to see this project coming together, and I’m looking forward to the end of today when they’ll have most of the drywall up!

Basement Remodel Saga: Part II

Taking out the old chimney

THAR SHE BLOWS! This is one of our framers. His boss took it upon himself to tell me all of this guy’s personal business, which at first made me uncomfortable. But then, when they gave him the job of tearing down the chimney to let off some steam, I was in on the har-de-har-har.

We now have walls – sort of. We have framed walls you can see here. The sheet rock will come after the electrician finishes fixing all the crazy homespun work done by other people. It’s never as easy as you think it’s going to be – especially in these old houses where many upgrades have been made over the years.

When the electrician showed up at my door this morning my faced turned red he was so cute. I was thinking that if I was still single I’d be needing a lot of rewiring done!

Basement Remodel Saga: Part I of Many

NW Corner - before framing

My afternoon sort of fell apart on me when the contractor called to tell me his crew would be over at 8:30 in the morning to start framing the basement. We still had two large computer desks left in the space, plus a bunch of odds and ends that have no place, rhyme, or reason. My sanity flashed before my eyes and the muscles around my spine tensed.

I have to give a big shout out to my friend Greg who literally came at a moment’s notice to help me move the furniture – as in, I called at 3:30 asking for help, and he was here by 4:30. It’s nice to know I’m taken care of even when Bryan is out of town.

So for posterity, here are photos of the madness we hope will never return, and here is what the space looks like tonight before the framers come in the morning. Someday soon this will be Bryan’s new office with actual walls and an actual door he can close while he works from home. In the meantime I feel like roller skating.

After Greg left I pulled it together and realized the amount of work left was not all that overwhelming, and I was reminded how easily I become paralyzed. But even now late at night, with my house cleaned up a bit, two loads of laundry done, and everything moved out of the area to be framed, I am at peace with what I’ve done today and I have no anxiety left for tomorrow.

Note to Self: Life Must Go On.

Ruthie sharing peanuts with her daddy over video Skype.

Bryan has been in San Jose all week launching a new project at a new job, and I think I over scheduled the kids and I in an attempt to keep busy while he is gone. I have been so out of my routine that I haven’t bought groceries, cleaned, or done any laundry, and he comes home tomorrow. I really don’t want him coming home to clutter, dust bunnies, and an empty refrigerator, so I need to somehow find the oomph to get into gear.

On a positive note, I was anticipating a rough week of long days and impatience with the kids, but we have had a great time.

I also returned to The Greatest Chiropractor in the World who fixed my twisted spine of stress. I have been waking up around 5:00 or 6:00 each morning in excruciating pain and stiffness from the night. I had seen a different chiropractor for this condition for a couple months back in November, but I always came home still feeling pain and stiffness. One session with The Greatest Chiropractor in the World and I am feeling much better, and this morning I slept until 7:30! So he is worth the effort to get to his office in another town.

Things That Keep Me Guessing

Ruthie’s friend, Indi, is over today while his parents paint walls and refinish floors at their new house. We have our own project going on today, and figured a friend would help distract Ruthie away from needing us as much. This plan has executed fairly smoothly, except for the shouting match over whether Mufasa was really hurt in the stampede.

“He’s sad.”

“No! He’s NOT sad!

“He’s sad!”

“NO! He’s NOT sad!

“HE’S SAD!”

“NO, HE’S NOT SAD!”

And so on.

You might have guessed, but Ruthie was the one in touch with Mufasa’s true state of mind at the time of his death.

Indi and Ruthie are only three days apart. There are times we think they will one day be married, and there are times we think they’ll never speak to each other again.

At one point when I checked on them watching a movie, I couldn’t see Ruthie anywhere. As I came around the corner I found that she was hidden by Indi as they snuggled together on the couch. Their love for each other waxes and wanes by the minute.

IMG_1850

State of the Union in Zugland

IMG_1616

I owe a large part of my recent bout with sanity to Bryan. It was during our recent trip to Portland when I realized how much influence he has had on my level of peace during the last few months.

I think the biggest thing for me was his taking over the bulk of the finances. I lack the time and discipline to stay on top of everything, so now the only thing I maintain is updating the bank downloads and paying the regular bills. He takes care of all the budgeting and organizing, and just tells me what to do so I don’t have to think about anything.

Bad things happened when I controlled the finances. I have a tendency to avoid anything that cannot be done quickly or easily, but lacked the organization to make sure it didn’t slip through the cracks altogether. On more than one occasion a big ball was dropped, and instead of owning up to it to Bryan, I covered up the evidence CSI style and pretended nothing happened. Yeah, I really just said that out loud. Feel better, now, about all your fuck-ups?

That was a dark time in our marriage. Most of our fighting was over financial issues – how things should be done, how things were NOT getting done, expectations that were not being met, feeling that expectations were too high, etc. I think this has changed. For the better. For both of us. I’m learning more about what makes me hide things from the people I love. He’s learning how to be a safe person to confess fuck-ups to.

I also think he’s beginning to understand the overwhelming nature of my life: the constant interruptions whenever I do anything; the chaos of chatter and the disciplining of toddlers; the unpredictable arrival of depressive days that render me useless; the difficulty of catching up whenever I lose one step. He seems more compassionate, more patient, and takes more initiative to help out when he sees me falling behind. This alone makes me cry (the good kind) because I do enough to beat myself up for being a failure. When he shows his patience and compassion when I can’t seem to Get It Done, I feel loved and supported.

I, like many people, avoid the stuff of life that is not fun. If I have a choice between paying bills and reading my rss feeds? You guessed it, I would rather read your blog (but who wouldn’t? It’s so entertaining!). The challenge for me is sorting out the times when I am dropping into a black hole of depression or when I am just being lazy. I expect a lot of grace to be given me in the first scenario, but if I’m just being lazy that is not cool. The last thing I want to do is take advantage of Bryan’s generosity in helping out more at home, so I continue to work on being diligent when I have the mental faculties to do so.

It may be too early to really assess the effects of my new vitamin regimen as it relates to my depression, but I know I’m feeling more energy and focus all throughout the day, and I last longer into the evening. Because of this, I can let up on my schedule during the day and spend more time just Being with Ruthie and get my stuff done after she goes to bed. Just last night I caught up on a pile ‘o’ crap that needed to be filed while Bryan dismantled his labyrinth of computer equipment and moved it to its temporary location.

Despite this being a busy week of celebrating Ruthie’s birthday, preparing our basement for remodeling, and getting Bryan ready for his new position (more on that later), I have not been irritable with the kids nor have I felt overwhelmed. Bryan and I have even worked through disagreements quickly and rationally.

All this to say, I think the general state of Zugland is improving. I am continually being reminded that when dark circumstances overwhelm our lives – whether self-inflicted or thrust upon us – somewhere there is Hope to be found.

This Would Be a BAD TIME for the Medication to Quit Working…

Over the weekend someone fired the starting gun and now WE’RE OFF!

We hired a contractor to finish half our unfinished basement, which he will do sometime during the next month while Bryan travels (more on that later). This is not such a big deal as he said the framing can be done in one day, and the drywall is done in phases after that. The overwhelming part of all this is the amazing amount of STUFF we have to move out of the space before any work can begin.

If you don’t hear from me in awhile, call the authorities. I may be trapped under a box.

NW Corner - Before

The Good Mother

The other day I was talking to a friend who also struggles with anger management. She relayed a story about allowing her children to “help” her with a task, knowing that in the end she would just become frustrated and lash out at them. But in her mind she believed that a Good Mother would be able to include her children in this task, that a Good Mother would make it work, that a Good Mother would enjoy incorporating them into her daily work.

When indeed she did become frustrated and lash out at her children, something finally broke in her and she recognized the lie swirling in her head about what a Good Mother resembles.

I listened to her with my mouth gaping open because it was like she was reading a script from inside my own head.

It was a valuable conversation to me because it turned to trigger points – those proverbial cherries on top, the straw that broke the camel’s back, and so forth. In the last few months since seeking help and accountability for my anger problem I have seen significant change – and not just behavioral management, but true inward change – yet I still found myself in moments of lashing out, and I wanted to explore the pattern (Ack! I’m starting to sound like Bryan).

When I noticed I mostly lashed out at my kids just before nap time and just before bed time, it clicked: I was becoming irritable because I was in desperate need for a break. As an introvert who needs down time alone to regroup, refresh, and regenerate, I became worn out by Ruthie’s constant need to engage me (an introvert, she is not).

Realizing this has been huge, and has allowed me to make adjustments to avoid irate breakdowns. For instance, I’ve started putting Ruthie down for her nap an hour earlier – before my fatigue sets in – so our morning ends on a more positive note. I spend the next hour doing something that refreshes me, like reading or writing an essay, then I spend the next hour doing a task that’s difficult to do when the kids are under my feet. If they wake up before the two hours is done, I leave them in their rooms because this is the two hours I have set aside for my sanity.

I’m learning that it benefits no one to embrace my limitations as failures, but if I accept who I am and learn to accommodate my limitations, I am truly a better mother and a better person. I am only a bad mother when I’m trying to be something I’m not, when I try to alter a part of myself that just Is, like trying to stuff your feet into a pair of shoes that are just too small.

I am redefining the Good Mother in my head to resemble something more familiar: me.

It was good while it lasted.

I’ve returned home and already my brain seems distracted again. I think whenever I’m in my house there is data running in the background of my mind that makes it more difficult to focus on what I’m actually doing in the moment. I hate to admit it – only because I’m not looking forward to the Dance of the Gloater Bryan will perform as he reads this – but I think multi-tasking has eaten away as many brains cells as if I’d dropped acid my whole life.

I’m having a hard time describing happiness.

I’m not really sure how to describe the feeling the aura the so obviously NOT US nature of this weekend, especially for those who don’t know me in person, but I am having HELLA fun with my booty-licious husband on this weekend getaway.

We are laughing, we are jesting, we are gazing fondly at one another as if on our first date again. And the touching? At dinner last night I felt very strongly that Bryan’s leg be pressed up against mine AT ALL TIMES no matter where he had to itch – I just couldn’t get enough snuggle.

And today we are actually agreeing on what to do next EVEN THOUGH WE HAVE NOT MAPPED OUT A SPECIFIC PLAN FOR THE DAY. Where do I begin to describe the significance of spontaneity in our relationship?

At any rate, we spent the morning in downtown Portland at the mall, then wandered over to Powell’s City of Books (aka the Mecca of bookstores) where we browsed for various things on our list.

IMG_1600

I picked up My Sister’s Keeper and Anansi Boys, books I’m reading for two different book clubs I participate in, plus The Search for Significance, a book recommended by my therapist as a tool to break through the errors in my belief system (like playing the blame game, or being a victim).

As I sit here in the quiet of my hotel room, my mind is clear, and I feel relaxed – both mentally and physically. The stress has melted away, and all the balls I juggle on a daily basis are quietly holstered… in their ball pit… somewhere within this bad metaphor.

During the last week my mind felt so full of information that I couldn’t muster up enough brain cells to make a grocery list. A friend who offered to keep Scout for the weekend wanted to pick her up a day early, and I gazed at her with an empty face as I listened to her ask the question.

“I don’t even know how to make that happen,” I finally said.

And truly, I had no random access memory left to sort through the simple steps of collecting the dog food, the bowls, and the leash. There was too much noise in my head.

This weekend I look forward to experiencing the quietness of spirit to think, to read, and to write as I have very little space in my life for thoughtful, reflective writing. As we checked in late last night there were three guys in the office – one covered in tatts, one with a handlebar mustache, and the other wearing an indie rock band t-shirt. I asked if there was wifi available on site and the three of them lit up like Christmas morning.

“Uh huh!” they all said simultaneously.

“Really?” I asked. “Like, I’ll have internet access in my room?”

Again with the wide eyes and the Cheshire grins, “Uh huh!”

I felt relief again that on this holiday from my hectic life, I can write and blog and reflect in real time. I can create and share things as they happen. If I have an inspiration, I don’t have to store it in my mind, yearning for an opportunity or the energy to express it. If only for a few days, my mind can be free from its daily clutter.

At this moment I could not be happier if it was raining chocolate covered raisins.