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Lying and Life
Oct. 9th, 2007 02:19 pmToday is a cloudy, cold day. Despite getting a late start (not only did Mason sleep in, but Shawn and I decided to have a breakfast "date" after she got some blood drawn for a celesterol (sp) test), I managed to go to the gym. I'm not sure I ever explained my weird desire to be Captain America by 45, but here's the deal: I'm one of those people who baulks at directness. In otherwords, I need to lie to myself.
IF I told myself I was going to the gym to get buff and lose weight, the whole thing would become this gigantic chore. I'd hate it and quit. Telling myself I'm going because I want to have biceps like Captain America, however, makes the whole thing silly and pressure free. Thus any weight loss and/or resulting buffness is all bonus.
I often have to lie to myself about writing too. If I think about writing for publication, I freak out. So every time I sit down to write, I open up a blank document and pretend I'm just writing for fun.
Yep. Every time.
Weird, huh?
Anyway, Mason is sitting next to me reading his favorite lift-the-flap book by Richard Scary called CUCUMBER TO THE RESCUE. He seemed to have a pretty good day at school. It's hard to know beause getting useful informaiton from a pre-schooler is a bit difficult. He loves, for instance, to tell me what was for snack -- today vanilla waffers, but is lose on details about things they actually DID. Apparently, during active learning time (which I'm beginning to believe is Montessori code for "free play") he got "assigned" to the "drama center," which is a place to play house/pretend. They also went to the art room for specalist time, apparently. But, after that it's all rather murky. Sometimes he'll sing me the songs they sang or might even remember the title of a book. Still, I tell myself the information I do get is probably a lot more than I will when he's a teenager.
Tonight is class at the Loft. I'm looking forward to it, actually, even though I'm a bit behind on Tate's writing.
IF I told myself I was going to the gym to get buff and lose weight, the whole thing would become this gigantic chore. I'd hate it and quit. Telling myself I'm going because I want to have biceps like Captain America, however, makes the whole thing silly and pressure free. Thus any weight loss and/or resulting buffness is all bonus.
I often have to lie to myself about writing too. If I think about writing for publication, I freak out. So every time I sit down to write, I open up a blank document and pretend I'm just writing for fun.
Yep. Every time.
Weird, huh?
Anyway, Mason is sitting next to me reading his favorite lift-the-flap book by Richard Scary called CUCUMBER TO THE RESCUE. He seemed to have a pretty good day at school. It's hard to know beause getting useful informaiton from a pre-schooler is a bit difficult. He loves, for instance, to tell me what was for snack -- today vanilla waffers, but is lose on details about things they actually DID. Apparently, during active learning time (which I'm beginning to believe is Montessori code for "free play") he got "assigned" to the "drama center," which is a place to play house/pretend. They also went to the art room for specalist time, apparently. But, after that it's all rather murky. Sometimes he'll sing me the songs they sang or might even remember the title of a book. Still, I tell myself the information I do get is probably a lot more than I will when he's a teenager.
Tonight is class at the Loft. I'm looking forward to it, actually, even though I'm a bit behind on Tate's writing.