Counting Down the Days

A few years ago I packed up the girls and took a short road trip down to Waco, Texas to visit one of my dearest cousins, who was attending art school.  We had a fantastic visit!  She took us to the local coffeehouse–a quirky, multi-roomed affair with creaky floors and teetering tables, mismatched upholstery and a whole lot of charm.  She showed us her apartment, a small place she shared with three or four others, and the little corner of it she called her own.  This corner, I should note, consisted of an enormous arrangement of art paraphernalia–papers and brushes of every size and texture; a wide assortment of paints, pencils, markers, and pastels; sketches of dancers and chubby-cheeked creatures, milky white clay sculptures, and dazzling watercolors of tulle and ribbon–with a little twin-sized bed tucked in for practical purposes.

It was a lovely space, and she took the time to show me its contents, piece by piece, as if introducing me to each of her closest friends.  From a small drawer she pulled a journal she referred to as her idea book.  Pages and pages of doodles and scribbles, with photographs tucked in here and there, preliminary sketches of scenes that would someday become full-fledged, canvas-worthy paintings.  And lists!  I found my name in there, and the names of my daughters.  Tiny moments, little stories that had triggered visions in her head.  It was a beautiful book.  A work of art on its own.

And then, among the other wonderful things she showed me that evening, a tiny little leather-bound book popped up.  She held it lovingly in her hands and showed me: a weekly planner.  A small rectangle sectioned off for every day of the year, and her neat little bird-like markings on every single line, on every single page.  She told me she’d started the tradition a while back, and it gave her peace.  She simply jotted down the things she was grateful for, or her thoughts, or her adventures or her worries on any given day.  No room for fluff or analysis, just a bare-bones account of her life on a daily basis.  I loved it!

I didn’t steal her idea right away, though.  To be honest, I never even intended to steal it.  It was mid-summer when I visited, after all, and this was obviously a beginning-of-the-year kind of project.  As faulty as my memory is, I figured that by the time winter came along I would have forgotten altogether.  Besides, this was her thing.  And just as it would never feel authentic for me to incorporate her magical fairy scenes or ballerinas into my own work, I would not feel authentic copying this.

But somehow, the idea still stuck.  And on a chilly afternoon, during one of the very last days of 2012, I happened to find myself strolling along the aisles of the local Barnes and Noble.  I noticed an endcap with lots of colorful little books.  Weekly planners.  On sale!

And thus resulted the theft of my cousin’s cute idea.

I chose a tiny, hardbound one with a fancy cover.  Seven lines for every day, though I didn’t always use them all, and at other times the words on the seventh line overflowed, crawling up or down the edge of the page like little caterpillars.  Most days, I kept the book on my bathroom counter for easy (albeit potentially unsanitary) access.  I took it along when we went on road trips.  And I always, always, always wrote in blue.  I won’t claim to have written in the book during every single one of the year’s 365 days, but it was close.  And on the few days during which I didn’t, I made sure to go back and fill in the missing day before going on to the current one.  So the result is a pretty accurate record of my 2013.  The joys, the frustrations, the miserable Monday mornings, the late-night Saturdays, the boring nothing days.  The friendships, the accomplishments, the romance, the fears.  More often than not, the accounts are positive.  Lots of happy faces sprinkled throughout.  Lots of exclamation points.  Fewer scribbles than one would imagine, I guess because when you only have seven lines (and no backspace button) you really have to think about what you’re going to write before you write it.  You want to use your space wisely.

To give you an idea of what these pages hold, here’s a random sampling:

January 31.  One day away from our first month of this new AM routine, and we’re still loving it!  Today I made pancakes, checked my email, and painted for 30 minutes!  Plus everybody’s happier in the mornings… at least after the workout.  :o)  Excellent teaching day!!

February 8.  It’s getting harder and harder to get up on time every morning.  Need more motivation, but at least we’re still doing what we need to do.  Had an AWESOME girls’ night in with Claudia & Andrea.  So much fun & laughter & warmth & acceptance.  I can’t believe we pulled an all-nighter.  :o)

February 23.  Spent the whole day w/ David.  BBQ, hiking, watching the sunset together, UFC (which I mostly slept through again), and bonding.  Got to hear him drum a bit, too.

March 12.  It was c-c-cold overnight, thank goodness for Patty’s heater and the tons of blankets we packed.  Slept pretty well, considering.  The girls made casts of footprints, more hiking & fun, and then I got a ticket on our way home.  :o(  Peanut butter cookies with my babies.  YUMM!!  :o)

April 12.  Excited about Oklahoma!  :oD  Left work early, glad I got a lot ready last night & this morning.  Left at 1:30 PM.  Arrived at 4:30, not bad.  The cabin was fantastic.  So comfortable.  Had fried catfish & mashed potatoes, then a big campfire, jokes & stories, new friends.

May 28.  Ughhh… so hard to get up… god, snap out of it already!!  I miss my perky, happy self.  I hate testing.  Ugh, just don’t know how to combat it, how to perform.  I want my kids to succeed.  But I also want them to learn, and love learning!

June 14.  Breaking up sucks.

July 19.  A new baby!!!  Yay, Olivia is teenie tiny and perfect.  I ❤ her!  Zumba with Carlos in the evening… man, my body had missed him!  Afterwards, Dexter and I watched Reservoir Dogs.  Wow.  I remember liking the movie a lot, but damn.  It was awesome.

July 29.  We left El Paso around 9AM and took the scenic road to Taos.  Stopped at White Sands, hiked among ancient petroglyphs, and enjoyed a quiet, private country road.  This trip has been so peacefully slow-paced.

August 3.  Woohoo!  Soccer this morning was an unexpected & happy surprise.  Spent a wonderfully quiet day at home–bought a window for the first time ever… sang, napped, surfed… and then I went to karaoke, all by myself!  I was pretty scared, but it turned out fine.  Next time it’ll be easier.

September 8.  Lazy, quiet day… until the end, when the Cowboys’ defense TORE UP that NY Giants team.  :o)  Yippee!  I hope our line (and Romo!) stays in tact all season.  DeMarcus Ware is a beautiful man.  <3…

October 15.  Yay, cool weather, more rain, and another good day at work.  I love self-sufficiency.  :o)  I was bad regarding food today, but had 4 good parent conferences… including making a very serious father laugh.  Man, he was tough to break!

October 26.  Feelin’ pretty darn good… still not sure about everything.  Life is so unique for everybody, and at the same time, it’s all the same.  Just gotta find what’s right for you, I guess.  Loved spending time with Claudia & Liz.  <3!  Getting drenched and laughing like little girls.  :o)

November 2.  Feeling artsy and athletic.  Played my violin for hours today and it sounded great.  Made me feel empowered.  I ❤ making music.  Tomorrow is an unknown.  Every tomorrow is.  Rescued another set of blogs today, though.

December 18.  Ugh… I hate getting up early.  Yesterday was so nice.  Today, not so much.  My kids bombed their writing test.  They’re getting in trouble, being disrespectful to each other… I’m burned out.  Glad Carina is feeling better, at least.

December 24.  More last-minute shopping & gift-wrapping.  It’s nice to have so many loved ones.  Girls had a Hernández Christmas & I went to celebrate with Nancy & Joel… just the right people to have a fantastic night.  Laughter, dancing, merriment.  I ❤ Nancy Schmancy.

And there you go.  2013 in a nutshell.  Yes, I know what you’re thinking.  It’s basically a schoolgirl diary.  But I disagree.  There’s something about the dates being pre-printed, about the year being contained so precisely, the limited space for your thoughts.  The physical pages, the concreteness of it all, the routine.  Because, really, the important thing is not the finished product–it’s the process.  It’s the sitting down and pausing to think about your day each and [just about] every day, the choosing of which of the day’s events and feelings merit writing, the actual formation of the words and phrases.  I’m telling you, this little exercise is therapeutic, fulfilling, and manageable.  And I’m deliberately posting this entry today, while there’s still time for you to run down to your local Barnes and Noble to pick up your own weekly planner!  Do it.  They’re on sale!

“What time is it?”

My daughters asked me that the other day, wanting adamantly to know the precise time so they could set their new watches.  They had been looking at the microwave and stove for the answer and then, frustrated that the two didn’t match, turned to me.  Being ever the logical part-time philosopher, I went into a discourse about how there is no specific, absolute time because time itself is only a concept devised by Man in an attempt to measure the rate at which things exist.  The two little blank faces staring back at me were clearly not satisfied with that answer, so I mentioned something about the Prime Meridian, which also went over their heads, and finally told them to just go ahead and set their watches by mine.

Because I’m god, right?  So to speak.  At least in this household.

Now, don’t get all huffy on me.  I’m just saying that Man’s attempt to measure with extreme precision a concept that is so utterly abstract and immeasurable is pretty silly, don’t you think?  You can’t measure time.  The official Greenwich Mean Time is no more and no less correct than the time on my own wristwatch.  Or at least it was on the day when this conversation with my daughters took place.  Since then, the battery on said wristwatch has expired so I’ve been going bare-wristed.  But still, the point stands.

Time.  Everybody has the same amount of it on any given day, but the passing of it feels so very different from one person to the next.  From one day to the next.  From one experience to another.  We each have a specific amount of time allotted to us during our lifetime, and regardless of our circumstances it’s up to us how we spend it.

The idea for this blog came about because of a message I received from one of my old high school friends a few weeks ago commenting on how active my life seems based on my Facebook updates and posts.  “How do you find time to play soccer, run 5Ks, raise a family, work full time, etc.?”  My response: It’s because I don’t have a man.

Funny, right?  But is it, really?  That can’t be true, I hope it isn’t.  The truth is, I have learned that it actually takes a pretty good amount of effort to actually enjoy life rather than just live it, and I try my best to enjoy my life on a daily basis.  I’m a divorced mom of two girls, I work full time (but as a teacher, so the hours are wonderful!), and I like to be happy.  This blog is my attempt at documenting the ways in which I choose to spend the time that has been allotted to me.

Welcome to my world.