Hey sweet cheeks,
Always hard to try to be there for someone on a sad day. I've never been very good at it because I always thought I was supposed to do something to make you feel better or say something that would help to fix the problem. I'm learning that probably isn't the right method - I think the right move is is probably to listen and love you endlessly.
Please give me a call (or just come home from school I guess since you probably live with me) so I can listen to you - I might try to fix your problems because my heart will break for you and I'll want to make you all better - but you can remind me to be quite and listen.
Loving you is easy to do. You are currently doing yoga in your mommy's belly - she can't sleep very well but she forgives you already because you're so sweet.
You've answered so many questions for me that I've carried along for so long. I always wondered if you had to earn someone's love. I suppose I should have learned the answer to that from my parents but naturally (and unfortunately) you have to learn some things on your own. The reason I know you don't need to earn love is because you were the size of a poppy seed when I fell in love with you.
There are no words to describe how I feel about you. You are my infinite love. Your heart started beating 22 days after you were conceived and about a week after I found out you were coming to join us. After nearly thirty years of searching for a purpose in life you illuminated mine for me in an instant.
You are a miracle - I was just holding your space
I love you to the moon and back and bigger than a bigraffe.
Love always,
Dad
P.S. I didn't think of the miracle line - it's from a sad song that sort of stinks so I was torn on quoting it but also didn't want to steal credit.
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 24, 2018
Wednesday, July 11, 2018
How I Met Your Mother
Hiya buddy,
Where to begin? I was thinking about trying to memorialize our little story since that's sort of where you came from and you're the next chapter. I was also thinking about flexing this little post into some awkward dating advice from your father that you don't want to listen to. Maybe another time.
So the night we met - a Friday night in April. It's about 90 degrees outside as I hop off my 1970's Schwin Le Tour that I had scored online a few months back. The sun is setting as I'm rolling down my right pant leg and strapping on my apron and walking into PF Changs China Bistro in Tempe for another Friday closing shift. A few hours into the shift I'm walking out of the kitchen as my boss gives me the point and wink and says "you're welcome". I look up and see your mother strolling past as she goes past to be sat at table 25.
I assume that you have some concept of what she looks like - but you weren't there that night so I will help. As she walks past me she doesn't make eye contact. This is either because she is too classy or because her heel game is so on point it requires 100% focus to make it to the table standing. Her hair falls down around her face in loose curls past her bare shoulders. As I caught the gaze of her deep brown eyes I had no clue that those would be the eyes I would lose myself in everyday for the rest of my life. And her smile, you guys, I know she still smiles so you know what I'm talking about, but damn. Frankly, her dress should have been about six inches longer - I saw it years later and thought it was a t-shirt. In any event,whatever she was doing that night, it was working.
She was with a few girlfriends and they were taking her out for her 20th birthday. I remember what she ordered that night (chicken lettuce wraps, honey shrimp, honey chicken, and candied walnut shrimp) and she claims that I didn't mix her Chang's sauce (I did, but whatever). After dragging Uncle Andrew to the table to do our twin routine the group dropped a hint about us hanging out later and celebrating her birthday with them. Before the girls left I worked up the courage to scribble down my phone number on a napkin and take it out with some free desserts - I had never done this before and thought that I would go to prison for sexual harassment. Her memory gets fuzzy on this as well - saying that I placed it in front of another girl that night - which is so awkward because I totally did but now we're married so it's sort of too late to say anything.
Anyways, by the time I got off work around midnight - your mom's birthday party was still raging on - but she was not - she had enough and decided to get some rest. I'm guessing she had like a big exercise thing the next morning or something. We texted for a couple of weeks before actually meeting up - and now it's my turn to be embarrassed.
First date ideas? Could I have taken her to dinner? Coffee? Movie? Bowling? LITERALLY ANYTHING? Yes, I could have.
Did I? Nope. Not at all.
I figured the most appropriate first date would be to go pick her up from her apartment in my 1997 Honda Civic and drag her to the house that your Uncle Patrick and I lived in. Proceeded to offer her a beer (she hates beer) and throw on the most classic first-date movie - The Departed - a lovely, light, story about some corrupt Irish law enforcement in south Boston replete with murder and crime. Uncle Patrick had downed several beers by this point in the evening - and he was sitting on the couch opposite us - really keeping the conversation going. It was not awkward and was totally a great idea for a first date.
Can it get better from here? Oh yes, it can! It will legen...wait for it....dary!
As the credits were rolling I mentioned that I was dying for a cigarette. Marlboro's Smooths, of course. Yes, it was a filthy habit but at least the Smooths had that nice minty aftertaste that everyone can enjoy! We stepped into the backyard and under a canopy of stars we sat rocking on a porch swing and bared our souls to one another. I am pretty sure that I killed that entire pack a cigarettes and we sat our there for about 5 hours talking. I cannot recall one word that was said.
After that night I did eventually take her on a real date but then she was going home for the summer for a couple months. We broke up for a month, she flew back out to see me, and then we got married. The wedding was 1,850 days after she got off that plane but I knew it was over that day.
Anyways, that's how I met your mother.
Love always,
Dad
P.S. Don't you dare smoke. And do not go to strange dude's houses that you don't know.
P.S.S. The napkin is hanging in the house!
P.S.S.S. Baby #1 is kicking around inside Carolyn's belly RIGHT NOW on the couch opposite me. No one knows your name yet, so you are Baby #1.
Where to begin? I was thinking about trying to memorialize our little story since that's sort of where you came from and you're the next chapter. I was also thinking about flexing this little post into some awkward dating advice from your father that you don't want to listen to. Maybe another time.
So the night we met - a Friday night in April. It's about 90 degrees outside as I hop off my 1970's Schwin Le Tour that I had scored online a few months back. The sun is setting as I'm rolling down my right pant leg and strapping on my apron and walking into PF Changs China Bistro in Tempe for another Friday closing shift. A few hours into the shift I'm walking out of the kitchen as my boss gives me the point and wink and says "you're welcome". I look up and see your mother strolling past as she goes past to be sat at table 25.
I assume that you have some concept of what she looks like - but you weren't there that night so I will help. As she walks past me she doesn't make eye contact. This is either because she is too classy or because her heel game is so on point it requires 100% focus to make it to the table standing. Her hair falls down around her face in loose curls past her bare shoulders. As I caught the gaze of her deep brown eyes I had no clue that those would be the eyes I would lose myself in everyday for the rest of my life. And her smile, you guys, I know she still smiles so you know what I'm talking about, but damn. Frankly, her dress should have been about six inches longer - I saw it years later and thought it was a t-shirt. In any event,whatever she was doing that night, it was working.
She was with a few girlfriends and they were taking her out for her 20th birthday. I remember what she ordered that night (chicken lettuce wraps, honey shrimp, honey chicken, and candied walnut shrimp) and she claims that I didn't mix her Chang's sauce (I did, but whatever). After dragging Uncle Andrew to the table to do our twin routine the group dropped a hint about us hanging out later and celebrating her birthday with them. Before the girls left I worked up the courage to scribble down my phone number on a napkin and take it out with some free desserts - I had never done this before and thought that I would go to prison for sexual harassment. Her memory gets fuzzy on this as well - saying that I placed it in front of another girl that night - which is so awkward because I totally did but now we're married so it's sort of too late to say anything.
Anyways, by the time I got off work around midnight - your mom's birthday party was still raging on - but she was not - she had enough and decided to get some rest. I'm guessing she had like a big exercise thing the next morning or something. We texted for a couple of weeks before actually meeting up - and now it's my turn to be embarrassed.
First date ideas? Could I have taken her to dinner? Coffee? Movie? Bowling? LITERALLY ANYTHING? Yes, I could have.
Did I? Nope. Not at all.
I figured the most appropriate first date would be to go pick her up from her apartment in my 1997 Honda Civic and drag her to the house that your Uncle Patrick and I lived in. Proceeded to offer her a beer (she hates beer) and throw on the most classic first-date movie - The Departed - a lovely, light, story about some corrupt Irish law enforcement in south Boston replete with murder and crime. Uncle Patrick had downed several beers by this point in the evening - and he was sitting on the couch opposite us - really keeping the conversation going. It was not awkward and was totally a great idea for a first date.
Can it get better from here? Oh yes, it can! It will legen...wait for it....dary!
As the credits were rolling I mentioned that I was dying for a cigarette. Marlboro's Smooths, of course. Yes, it was a filthy habit but at least the Smooths had that nice minty aftertaste that everyone can enjoy! We stepped into the backyard and under a canopy of stars we sat rocking on a porch swing and bared our souls to one another. I am pretty sure that I killed that entire pack a cigarettes and we sat our there for about 5 hours talking. I cannot recall one word that was said.
After that night I did eventually take her on a real date but then she was going home for the summer for a couple months. We broke up for a month, she flew back out to see me, and then we got married. The wedding was 1,850 days after she got off that plane but I knew it was over that day.
Anyways, that's how I met your mother.
Love always,
Dad
P.S. Don't you dare smoke. And do not go to strange dude's houses that you don't know.
P.S.S. The napkin is hanging in the house!
P.S.S.S. Baby #1 is kicking around inside Carolyn's belly RIGHT NOW on the couch opposite me. No one knows your name yet, so you are Baby #1.
Listening to: Holocene - Bon Iver
Tuesday, September 12, 2017
Project 2. Winter is Coming.
Howdy purtners,
This is 10% for you to read. 90% for me to have to sit down and type out.
Today I signed the contract for my second "life project" with my bro at work (the Frazz). We got made fun of today at the coffee shop by some evangelical Christians who prayed loudly in public because they served our espresso's with sparkling water.
That is neither here nor there though. We were talking about the formula to success in owning your own personal development. These are old revelations but basically it boils down to this: throughout your day you have to STOP (not pause, an important distinction) and assess - Why am I doing this? Should I do this? Is there a better thing to do?
Example: you get home from a long day of work - what is your routine?
For years my routine was to shed my work clothes off, lay them over my dresser (with the stacks of other clothes) and pop into some gym shorts in order to comfortably lay on the couch for the next 3-4 hours before its time to go to bed. This was/is a crap routine.
Today: Got home from work appx 6:15pm. Eleven hour day. Pick up a piece of trash that has been on the ground in the garage for about 10 weeks. Stripped down and hung up my pants, shirt in the dry cleaning bag, socks in the hamper. Strapped on the work Nikes (you have to have multiple Nikes for different tasks) and stepped outside to do yard work until the sun went down. Probably went in around 7:15pm or so. Your mom, Wonderwoman, cooked dinner and entertained my diatribe on weak minded people who don't subscribe to Stoicism. I ate quickly and then washed the dishes. Then, relaxed for about 30 minutes - reading some blog online and researching which drone I'm going to buy for our trip to Hong Kong. Tightened up the Nikes (did not switch to the correct functional shoes because I was already sweaty. This is okay, check your Nike protocol handbook) and went out to run 3 miles.
Long story made extra long - I was able to STOP - assess my decisions and take initiative to do the things I "wanted" to do. Isn't it funny how hard it is to do the things we want to do? So bizarre.
So here's the bet - we have to have a body (rated by 3rd parties) that resembles a popular celebrity at the moment and the deadline is December 22nd.
We can both win and/or lose the bet. Here are the stakes:
Snoozer of a post huh?
Okay. I'll try to save it with some story time. Naturally the protagonist here is going to be Carolyn because she's my whole world right now (you aren't here yet).
I'll regale you with the tale of our first "date".
This is a real gas - your old man has it within him to be something of a Lance Romance.
Not this time though. We just told this story at a double-date last week though and we can barely make it through the story. You probably won't find it as funny because we're just old farts and you can't imagine us being young and in love.
We struggled to meet up - I didn't get a text back the night we met. Next time she was partying at a casino. I don't remember being excessively poor at this point but I was 21 and paying all my own bills and tuition - that doesn't excuse what comes next.
So I invited Carolyn over to "hang out" at my house...
with my brother (Patrick)...
drinking beers (your mom doesn't drink beers, ever)...
watching The Departed (a very intense movie that you have to follow closely to appreciate)...
For reasons unknown, she agreed to this. When I went to pick her up (in my silver, oxidized, 1997 Honda Civic coupe - so dope) her girlfriends took down my license plate since there was a high probability that I was a psychopath. The verdict is still out.
The drive from her place to mine was about 10 minutes - in that time your mother told me that she...
"was, seriously, not that funny"...
"like, not pretty at all"...
"not smart"..
"and not that interesting actually"...
I offered to turn around because I legitimately thought she had changed her mind about hanging out (which, honestly, who could blame her).
Anyways, I don't recall every detail of the evening except that Carolyn always says that Patrick was just talking a bunch and asking questions while the movie played in the background (which, if you're close with Uncle Pat, is unusual because he's usually quite introverted).
This was in mid-April. Eventually, after she had unloaded her beer on me, we ended up sitting outside on the porch swing staring up to the stars and our conversation ebbed and flowed as easily as taking a breath. We sat outside for six hours and laughed and bared our souls to one another. I remember her beautiful long brown hair and big brown eyes. She wore jeans and a turquoise striped v-neck shirt with Vans.
She just emanated kindness and love with all the things she said, and those didn't say. I wish I could remember which words we spoke to each other - what stories we told and which dreams we shared, but alas, what remained was a blur of emotion.
Then we broke up five weeks later. But that's a story for another time. Ask your mom what her least favorite Katy Perry song is.
Don't ask me because I hate them all.
Love always,
Dad
Song of the week: "Free" by Rudimental feat. Emeli Sande
I mostly just like the part when she sings "c'est la vie" because it is my favorite phrase lately. It's the French version of the Serenity Prayer.
This is 10% for you to read. 90% for me to have to sit down and type out.
Today I signed the contract for my second "life project" with my bro at work (the Frazz). We got made fun of today at the coffee shop by some evangelical Christians who prayed loudly in public because they served our espresso's with sparkling water.
That is neither here nor there though. We were talking about the formula to success in owning your own personal development. These are old revelations but basically it boils down to this: throughout your day you have to STOP (not pause, an important distinction) and assess - Why am I doing this? Should I do this? Is there a better thing to do?
Example: you get home from a long day of work - what is your routine?
For years my routine was to shed my work clothes off, lay them over my dresser (with the stacks of other clothes) and pop into some gym shorts in order to comfortably lay on the couch for the next 3-4 hours before its time to go to bed. This was/is a crap routine.
Today: Got home from work appx 6:15pm. Eleven hour day. Pick up a piece of trash that has been on the ground in the garage for about 10 weeks. Stripped down and hung up my pants, shirt in the dry cleaning bag, socks in the hamper. Strapped on the work Nikes (you have to have multiple Nikes for different tasks) and stepped outside to do yard work until the sun went down. Probably went in around 7:15pm or so. Your mom, Wonderwoman, cooked dinner and entertained my diatribe on weak minded people who don't subscribe to Stoicism. I ate quickly and then washed the dishes. Then, relaxed for about 30 minutes - reading some blog online and researching which drone I'm going to buy for our trip to Hong Kong. Tightened up the Nikes (did not switch to the correct functional shoes because I was already sweaty. This is okay, check your Nike protocol handbook) and went out to run 3 miles.
Long story made extra long - I was able to STOP - assess my decisions and take initiative to do the things I "wanted" to do. Isn't it funny how hard it is to do the things we want to do? So bizarre.
So here's the bet - we have to have a body (rated by 3rd parties) that resembles a popular celebrity at the moment and the deadline is December 22nd.
We can both win and/or lose the bet. Here are the stakes:
- $500 to an anti-charity (we choose political figures that we don't support)
- 20 hours of community service (victor's choice - I'm going to have Aaron do something hyper-religious)
- "Stoicism training" (i.e. laying on the ground in a public place, asking for a discount somewhere you know they won't give you one, wearing loud outfits at snobby places - basically just doing things to adorn thicker skin)
Snoozer of a post huh?
Okay. I'll try to save it with some story time. Naturally the protagonist here is going to be Carolyn because she's my whole world right now (you aren't here yet).
I'll regale you with the tale of our first "date".
This is a real gas - your old man has it within him to be something of a Lance Romance.
Not this time though. We just told this story at a double-date last week though and we can barely make it through the story. You probably won't find it as funny because we're just old farts and you can't imagine us being young and in love.
We struggled to meet up - I didn't get a text back the night we met. Next time she was partying at a casino. I don't remember being excessively poor at this point but I was 21 and paying all my own bills and tuition - that doesn't excuse what comes next.
So I invited Carolyn over to "hang out" at my house...
with my brother (Patrick)...
drinking beers (your mom doesn't drink beers, ever)...
watching The Departed (a very intense movie that you have to follow closely to appreciate)...
For reasons unknown, she agreed to this. When I went to pick her up (in my silver, oxidized, 1997 Honda Civic coupe - so dope) her girlfriends took down my license plate since there was a high probability that I was a psychopath. The verdict is still out.
The drive from her place to mine was about 10 minutes - in that time your mother told me that she...
"was, seriously, not that funny"...
"like, not pretty at all"...
"not smart"..
"and not that interesting actually"...
I offered to turn around because I legitimately thought she had changed her mind about hanging out (which, honestly, who could blame her).
Anyways, I don't recall every detail of the evening except that Carolyn always says that Patrick was just talking a bunch and asking questions while the movie played in the background (which, if you're close with Uncle Pat, is unusual because he's usually quite introverted).
This was in mid-April. Eventually, after she had unloaded her beer on me, we ended up sitting outside on the porch swing staring up to the stars and our conversation ebbed and flowed as easily as taking a breath. We sat outside for six hours and laughed and bared our souls to one another. I remember her beautiful long brown hair and big brown eyes. She wore jeans and a turquoise striped v-neck shirt with Vans.
She just emanated kindness and love with all the things she said, and those didn't say. I wish I could remember which words we spoke to each other - what stories we told and which dreams we shared, but alas, what remained was a blur of emotion.
Then we broke up five weeks later. But that's a story for another time. Ask your mom what her least favorite Katy Perry song is.
Don't ask me because I hate them all.
Love always,
Dad
Song of the week: "Free" by Rudimental feat. Emeli Sande
I mostly just like the part when she sings "c'est la vie" because it is my favorite phrase lately. It's the French version of the Serenity Prayer.
 |
| Photo I took in France - sure hope this is still standing |
Monday, September 11, 2017
Project 1. Fin.
Hurro,
I'm not going to give a ton of detail here recapping the 4 week experiment because I'm sure its boring as heck.
Strong points: total caffeine fast, sugar fast 6 days a week, woke up at 5:20 everyday (except like twice when that snooze called my name but was still up by 5:40), worked out 75% of committed. Read at least 30min/day on average.
Weak stuff: meditation- meh. Journal - you're looking at it. Meals - eh, 50-75%. Dishes - 50%.
So overall - I failed. Because I would have only been satisfied with 100% success on all topics. That said I think setting the lofty goal led to decent completion ratio and I am certain that I did better than I would have without the goals.
So I was talking to my best work bro - the Frazz - today while I imbibed upon my first cortado in a month. We came to some realizations about the nature of this world that we live in - you're about to be enlightened.
1. Your life is your fault (which is a given)
2. You need to work on controlling yourself - stop floating through life existing
3. You are operating low on the hierarchy of needs and can push yourself higher (self-actualization)
4. Embrace your humanity - we tried to shun vanity and opted for "overall health" because to be vain is to be sinful - that was stupid though. Having six abs can help motivate you and you're going to need all the motivation you can get.
In other news, my job is still whooping my tuckus but progress has been made. Your mother is still a saint of a human being.
Story time:
You won't fully be able to appreciate this because for your entire life you will have watched your mom bend over backwards to take care of you - but I'll take you back to a time long ago. When I bought my first house (which she was not even moving into) something spectacular happened. Carolyn (aka Mom) grew up very well loved and spoiled (but in the best way, you would never know) so when she offered to help out with the home remodeling I was expecting a cute girl to show up and sort-of try, while sort-of being in the way. I was sort-of 168% wrong. She was showing butt crack, busting a sweat, and working harder than a contractor with 20 years of experience. She took initiative and took direction. I have never been more happily surprised with anyone in my life (thus far). I knew I wanted to spend my life with your mother very early on (I told your grandmother I would marry her after 8 months at a Christmas mass) but this was the deal-sealer. She was veracious and beautiful. She worked hard and was playful and had a light spirit.
I love to be wrong about your mother. Don't get me wrong - I think so highly of her that I imagine her resting upon Mount Olympus being hand fed grapes by a lesser goddess. I tell you that to tell you this: do not underestimate the beauty and grace of the woman who you are so blessed to call your mother - because if you do; you're wrong.
So let's recap... was I able to pontificate a worldview that you don't care about and didn't ask for? Check. Did I give advice as a directive to a subordinate that you'll probably ignore? Assuredly. Did I try to show a glimpse of how I love your mother through a time capsule? Sure did.
I did what I came here to do.
Love always,
Dad
I'm not going to give a ton of detail here recapping the 4 week experiment because I'm sure its boring as heck.
Strong points: total caffeine fast, sugar fast 6 days a week, woke up at 5:20 everyday (except like twice when that snooze called my name but was still up by 5:40), worked out 75% of committed. Read at least 30min/day on average.
Weak stuff: meditation- meh. Journal - you're looking at it. Meals - eh, 50-75%. Dishes - 50%.
So overall - I failed. Because I would have only been satisfied with 100% success on all topics. That said I think setting the lofty goal led to decent completion ratio and I am certain that I did better than I would have without the goals.
So I was talking to my best work bro - the Frazz - today while I imbibed upon my first cortado in a month. We came to some realizations about the nature of this world that we live in - you're about to be enlightened.
1. Your life is your fault (which is a given)
2. You need to work on controlling yourself - stop floating through life existing
3. You are operating low on the hierarchy of needs and can push yourself higher (self-actualization)
4. Embrace your humanity - we tried to shun vanity and opted for "overall health" because to be vain is to be sinful - that was stupid though. Having six abs can help motivate you and you're going to need all the motivation you can get.
In other news, my job is still whooping my tuckus but progress has been made. Your mother is still a saint of a human being.
Story time:
You won't fully be able to appreciate this because for your entire life you will have watched your mom bend over backwards to take care of you - but I'll take you back to a time long ago. When I bought my first house (which she was not even moving into) something spectacular happened. Carolyn (aka Mom) grew up very well loved and spoiled (but in the best way, you would never know) so when she offered to help out with the home remodeling I was expecting a cute girl to show up and sort-of try, while sort-of being in the way. I was sort-of 168% wrong. She was showing butt crack, busting a sweat, and working harder than a contractor with 20 years of experience. She took initiative and took direction. I have never been more happily surprised with anyone in my life (thus far). I knew I wanted to spend my life with your mother very early on (I told your grandmother I would marry her after 8 months at a Christmas mass) but this was the deal-sealer. She was veracious and beautiful. She worked hard and was playful and had a light spirit.
I love to be wrong about your mother. Don't get me wrong - I think so highly of her that I imagine her resting upon Mount Olympus being hand fed grapes by a lesser goddess. I tell you that to tell you this: do not underestimate the beauty and grace of the woman who you are so blessed to call your mother - because if you do; you're wrong.
So let's recap... was I able to pontificate a worldview that you don't care about and didn't ask for? Check. Did I give advice as a directive to a subordinate that you'll probably ignore? Assuredly. Did I try to show a glimpse of how I love your mother through a time capsule? Sure did.
I did what I came here to do.
Love always,
Dad
Monday, August 21, 2017
Day 8 - Progress/Adjustments
Fart nuggies,
I'm realizing as I update this blog that the only thing more boring than listening to your now-old man pontificate on the wisdom of the ages is to read his diary of self-help mediocrity. But the wheel is turning - so we must press on.
Firstly, I'm not hitting 100% success rate - I blame lack of accountability. No one knows what I'm doing and I have nothing to lose if I fail.
Morning routines - pretty much rocked out but was consistently late on my way out the door (too many dank meme breaks). Also, I hate working out in the morning. It really sucks to strap on shoes and go to 100 degree garage, alone and tired, and I would really prefer to enjoy the golden hours of morning.
For the night-time routines, I have also sucked. I think I hit double meditation twice. Journaled only electronically (including this). Meal preparation I'm 2/2 on and I have read every night. Some nights I read for over 2 hours which is intoxicating (currently reading: Atlas Shrugged - if one of you is named Atlas it will have been a contributing factor). Dishes? Eh. Definitively better, but I think we let them stack one night. Electronics fast has been a big win- I'm sure you'll have cybernetic implants or something and won't be able to separate but it is such a relief if you can. Silence is golden - occasionally I will just sit and think - very strange feeling.
How do I feel though?
Pretty damn good, actually. I can stay up all day without missing a beat (for comparison I would be fully out of commission without re-fueling by about 3pm) am no longer missing caffeine, although I thirst for the taste of coffee from the depths of loins. I've considered dabbling in decaf - which is ironic because I remember scoffing at patrons of P.F. Changs when they would order their stupid decaf coffee thinking it was so pointless.
Meditation wise - loving it. I have reduced my structure significantly and have several 2 minute blocks where I attempt to fade into nothingness. In fact the only thing that has remained constant is the slot for gratitude training. Never a shortage of people/things to be grateful for.
So here's the deal - revamping the schedule just by moving stuff around.
Weekday morning schedule: (note: not allowed to touch your phone until after meditation from now on)
Okay stinky-diaper-fillers, signing off because it is my bed time. Don't worry - with no electronics I will make up the 10 minutes or reading time lost (in case you were counting).
Love always,
Dad
P.S. I totally neglected almost everything today because I tried to take my GMAT after studying between 6-10 hours (which is not enough). I did okay but the chances that I have an MBA as I sire you into the world are very slim.
P.S.S. Your uncle Andrew showed up this weekend unexpectedly and we got the crew together to go see your great grandparents. You guys are going to be coming into a great (extended) family.
Song of the week: CROSS MY MIND - A R I Z O N A - It's sort of like Toto Rains in Africa meets modern day pop goodness. Living in AZ gives me a bias as well even though they're from New Jersey.
I'm realizing as I update this blog that the only thing more boring than listening to your now-old man pontificate on the wisdom of the ages is to read his diary of self-help mediocrity. But the wheel is turning - so we must press on.
Firstly, I'm not hitting 100% success rate - I blame lack of accountability. No one knows what I'm doing and I have nothing to lose if I fail.
Morning routines - pretty much rocked out but was consistently late on my way out the door (too many dank meme breaks). Also, I hate working out in the morning. It really sucks to strap on shoes and go to 100 degree garage, alone and tired, and I would really prefer to enjoy the golden hours of morning.
For the night-time routines, I have also sucked. I think I hit double meditation twice. Journaled only electronically (including this). Meal preparation I'm 2/2 on and I have read every night. Some nights I read for over 2 hours which is intoxicating (currently reading: Atlas Shrugged - if one of you is named Atlas it will have been a contributing factor). Dishes? Eh. Definitively better, but I think we let them stack one night. Electronics fast has been a big win- I'm sure you'll have cybernetic implants or something and won't be able to separate but it is such a relief if you can. Silence is golden - occasionally I will just sit and think - very strange feeling.
How do I feel though?
Pretty damn good, actually. I can stay up all day without missing a beat (for comparison I would be fully out of commission without re-fueling by about 3pm) am no longer missing caffeine, although I thirst for the taste of coffee from the depths of loins. I've considered dabbling in decaf - which is ironic because I remember scoffing at patrons of P.F. Changs when they would order their stupid decaf coffee thinking it was so pointless.
Meditation wise - loving it. I have reduced my structure significantly and have several 2 minute blocks where I attempt to fade into nothingness. In fact the only thing that has remained constant is the slot for gratitude training. Never a shortage of people/things to be grateful for.
So here's the deal - revamping the schedule just by moving stuff around.
Weekday morning schedule: (note: not allowed to touch your phone until after meditation from now on)
- 5:20 am: Wake up
- 5:20-5:30 am: Restroom, drink ice water, make bed
- 5:30-5:50 am: Read
- 5:50-6:05 am: Eat breakfast (while reading!) (rice, broc, bean)
- 6:05-6:15 am: Shower, dress
- 6:15-6:25 am: Meditate
- 6:25-6:40 am: Walk the Nixi
- 6:40 am: Go to work
Weekday evening activities:
- Meditate (10 minutes)
- Journal (5 minutes)
- Meal preparation (if necessary)
- Exercise (minimum of 20 minutes or 2 miles ran)
- All dishes done and put away
Love always,
Dad
P.S. I totally neglected almost everything today because I tried to take my GMAT after studying between 6-10 hours (which is not enough). I did okay but the chances that I have an MBA as I sire you into the world are very slim.
P.S.S. Your uncle Andrew showed up this weekend unexpectedly and we got the crew together to go see your great grandparents. You guys are going to be coming into a great (extended) family.
Song of the week: CROSS MY MIND - A R I Z O N A - It's sort of like Toto Rains in Africa meets modern day pop goodness. Living in AZ gives me a bias as well even though they're from New Jersey.
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| Your hot mom - no reason. Just because. |
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
Day 3 of 28 - Check-in
It's Wednesday my dudes,
HOLY SHINTO! I utterly failed to comprehend the effects of the caffeine fast. I read about it after the fact and apparently there is a smart way to ween yourself off the juice but I went full cold turkey and Monday was actually one of the hardest days (first-world problems) I can remember.
Me on Monday: Splitting headache, lethargic and generally worthless.
I did actually complete the morning routine set out in the last post (except I ran about 10 minutes late because of some windshield wiper installation on your mother's vehicle). Then at work - had to give 110% as always but was running on fumes at by 10am. Your old man just took a new job and it's very demanding - lots to learn.
After work I drop off the dry-cleaning and drive, in a haze, home. I nap on the couch while your saint of a mother prepares dinner which was an orzo pasta dish with loads of delicious fresh vegetables. I stayed awake just long enough to murder 2 bowls of the pasta and consume way too much bread. Then I did the dishes and told her I was going to lay down for 20 minutes. This was maybe 7pm or so. I woke up at 9pm and went to sleep and slept through the night.
Overall, not bad but was so far I am not accomplishing everything on the action list. Tuesday at 5:20am came and I was able to muster the strength to conquer the morning although while I was lacing up the Nikes I asked myself "is this really worth it?" and "do I actually need to be healthy?". The headaches were more bearable and I made it through the day. Carolyn got home after me and told her I would take her out to dinner so we wouldn't have to cook and clean that night. We were in bed asleep by 8:20pm and it was GLORIOUS.
Today felt much better. I didn't feel like death was creeping behind every corner and I actually felt a strange energy that I cannot recall feeling in ages. Last night I dreamt for the first time in recent memory. Read a little bit of "Atlas Shrugged" and ate vegetarian enchiladas that your mother makes. (I wonder what will be in her rotation when you read this) Did round 2 of meditation for the day a few minutes ago - it was nice but I didn't develop a third eye or anything. Popping this off in lieu of an actual journal entry. It's 7:23pm and the bed is screaming my name already.
Love always,
Dad
HOLY SHINTO! I utterly failed to comprehend the effects of the caffeine fast. I read about it after the fact and apparently there is a smart way to ween yourself off the juice but I went full cold turkey and Monday was actually one of the hardest days (first-world problems) I can remember.
Me on Monday: Splitting headache, lethargic and generally worthless.
I did actually complete the morning routine set out in the last post (except I ran about 10 minutes late because of some windshield wiper installation on your mother's vehicle). Then at work - had to give 110% as always but was running on fumes at by 10am. Your old man just took a new job and it's very demanding - lots to learn.
After work I drop off the dry-cleaning and drive, in a haze, home. I nap on the couch while your saint of a mother prepares dinner which was an orzo pasta dish with loads of delicious fresh vegetables. I stayed awake just long enough to murder 2 bowls of the pasta and consume way too much bread. Then I did the dishes and told her I was going to lay down for 20 minutes. This was maybe 7pm or so. I woke up at 9pm and went to sleep and slept through the night.
Overall, not bad but was so far I am not accomplishing everything on the action list. Tuesday at 5:20am came and I was able to muster the strength to conquer the morning although while I was lacing up the Nikes I asked myself "is this really worth it?" and "do I actually need to be healthy?". The headaches were more bearable and I made it through the day. Carolyn got home after me and told her I would take her out to dinner so we wouldn't have to cook and clean that night. We were in bed asleep by 8:20pm and it was GLORIOUS.
Today felt much better. I didn't feel like death was creeping behind every corner and I actually felt a strange energy that I cannot recall feeling in ages. Last night I dreamt for the first time in recent memory. Read a little bit of "Atlas Shrugged" and ate vegetarian enchiladas that your mother makes. (I wonder what will be in her rotation when you read this) Did round 2 of meditation for the day a few minutes ago - it was nice but I didn't develop a third eye or anything. Popping this off in lieu of an actual journal entry. It's 7:23pm and the bed is screaming my name already.
Love always,
Dad
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