Dear Reader,

You know what is remarkable?   How late it is (10:24pm - as I am writing this) and how much more I have to do to get ready for tomorrow.   I have to compile a ranked list of phone interview candidates from 7 different e-mails, read 60 pages of class material, make a quiz, make lunches, wash dishes, do two loads of laundry (thanks, kids, for spilling all the things on your beds tonight!), and vacuum the floor.    You may think that vacuuming the floor is optional, but I assure you that it is not.  It is most definitely not.  Take my word for it.

But, here I am blogging, because I like to blog.   And, darn it, I'm going to do something for myself before I go do all of the things for all of the other people.   Sigh.  What a complainer I am.   Whine, whine, whine.   I'll let you in on a little secret.  Sometimes, as a single parent with a career and a desire to take care of myself and enjoy life, I feel like I'm always one step behind.   Barely keeping on top of things.   I used to feel organized and competent.   Most of the time these days, I feel barely functional when it comes to focus and organization and competence.   Now, I will say that I have learned how to enjoy moments even when chaos is swirling around me, but geez, I would love to feel like my life is a bit more orderly.   For instance, I am in denial about the state of my garage.   I just don't look in there any more.   There is a freezer that's not operating.   A bunch of books in boxes that are molding that I should either throw or give away or bring into the house.   A toddler bed that's broken (that's the way we roll around here).  Bags of clothes.   Magazines from 2011 that I need to recycle.   Christmas decorations.   Loads and loads of detritus.    If I could magically open that door and have a clean, empty space, I'm pretty sure that positive psychic energy would start flowing through my veins.   Now, what flows through my veins when I open that door is despair and futility.   The thing about being a single parent (and yes, I am now going to do what I almost never, ever, ever, ever do because of my single parent guilt.   I am going to complain about being a single parent.  Bear with me.  It probably won't last long.  And, I'll probably regret it.) is that if something needs to get done, big or small, you are the ONLY ONE WHO WILL DO IT.   Lightbulb needs changed? - you.   Someone needs a drink of water at night? - you.   Who's making dinner? - you.   Repair the toilet lid? - you.   Need milk from the grocery store? - you.   Laundry? - you.    Read the bedtime stories? - you. Deal with sibling strife? - you.   Take someone to the emergency room? - you.   Put together playground equipment? - you.   Vacuum cheerios out of the inside of the couch? - you.   Get the field mouse out of the house? - you.   Kill the spider? - you.   Put a bandaid on a scraped knee? - you.

OK, you get the idea.   There are so, so many things that I love about being a single parent.   Really.   I am so lucky that I didn't feel as though parenthood was not in the cards for me because I was not in a committed relationship.    So lucky that I get to experience the world through their eyes.   So lucky that I am loved so completely and wholeheartedly by those two particular darling children and that I am able to love them so completely and wholeheartedly myself.   I would not change my life one iota or make any different decision.  But, it would be so nice if someone could occasionally tidy up.   Or cook dinner.  Or just turn the TV off.   And, it NOT BE ME.   Sigh.   I know, I know.   Train the kids to do it.   Look on the bright side.   Chin up, Lisa.  

I really responded to a meditation image at yoga class last night  (the kids were at VBS and I was able to take a candlelight yoga class at the new studio in town - WONDERFUL - I really, somehow, need to be able to squeeze in one yoga class a week in my life - maybe I can recalibrate my budget in the fall to include babysitting for this).   After giggling about the use of the concept of chakras and the third eye (I'm a skeptic, what can I say?),  I willingly suspended my disbelief and got into the mood.   The yoga teacher told us to think of our minds as lakes.   And to imagine someone dropping a large multifaceted diamond into the lake. Watch it descend to the bottom.   You can clearly see the diamond glinting underwater.    When obsessive thoughts and anxieties stir up our mind/lake, the diamond is obscured, but if you focus on imagining that diamond in all of its clarity at the bottom of the lake,  your mind will become still.   I think this actually worked for me.   I'm going to try and practice that visualization this week to see if it can bring me some peace in the middle of my crazy life.  

OK.   I feel calmer already.  Back to work.   BTW, I am now one pound down from my pre-evil-doctor's-scale reading.   Huzzah.   I've walked/run, worked out on the elliptical and the elliptical/stairmaster, and done resistance training for at least an hour and a half every day this week so far.   Knocking that part out of the park.   Going to concentrate on the WW points and food this week.   See you next week, dear reader, when I will contemplate the glories of turning 43 on Tuesday.   I'm sure it will be epic!

Thanks for reading!