Wednesday, August 28, 2013

If you ask you must be prepared for the answer.

 
Sometimes you ask the kid what they want for dinner and they say "Ice Cubes!". In that case we can kindly steer them in a different direction, because we are not trying to raise any eating disorders over here. But sometimes they say "Cereal!" and you think, "Hey, that is a really good idea." And so it was, dinner last night was two big heaping bowls of cereal. Hers is the healthy looking bowl, mine is the peanut butter puffs (the hippie kind, gluten free, no artificial blah blah blah).

The point is, sometimes cereal for dinner is the best idea. Sometimes we can leave the sautéed kale and beet green tartine at the door and just curl up with a good old fashioned bowl of cereal. Because it's ok to just chill out. To not keep up. A lesson that a bowl of cereal apparently is helping me learn. Plus, she's at this age where she is starting to really have opinions and it's nice to be able to give her a little of what she wants once in awhile. Cereal for dinner every night is not an option, so I just don't ask every night. But once in awhile it's nice to see her flex her opinion muscles. Really nice. Tonight we had a black bean, corn, and spinach pasta. I didn't let her pick dinner but she did pick the yellow dish over the red. She also stirred the sauce. A little bit goes a long way. Another lesson learned from the kid.

One of these days I'm going to cave and when she responds to the what's for dinner question with "Ice Cream!" I'm gonna say "Hell Yes!" And I'm sure there will be a lesson learnt in that as well.

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Lylagram:




Haiku for you.

A day off.

 
Sweet unemployment
Whatcha gonna do today?
Watch wind blow, kid grow.

Day one smartphone detox, getting my fix.

You know what I did today?

I read a magazine, in it's entirety.
I made a real breakfast for my family.
I played with the kid.
I watched the sunset.
I took back hours of my day.

And you know what? It was pretty cool.

Today marked the first day of my smartphone detox.

The rules are simple:
1. Delete all time sucking apps from the phone.
2. Text only during the sleeping hours of the kid.
3. If you want/need to use the internet do it with intention and open the laptop and sit down.
4. Learn how to and use your real camera. You have it for a reason.
5. Only use your phone for old fashioned phone things like calls and important texts (you know, old fashioned texting)

That's it. Simple. Minus the audible gasp I made when I started deleting all the apps, and the weird muscle memory moments when I just picked the phone up and started scrolling to what was the facebook app page. So far I feel free. I did this so I could do all the other things with a little more intention and effort, which is why I am blogging right now. It's not an all out war against the internet. I love to write. I love to share. I love to see what other people are doing. All of that had become so small and fast and insignificant with the ease of being able to do it on the phone. So much so that it was making me lazy. Sure I could at any given moment throw some words down as a status update or a tweet, but was I taking the time to think about it? And when I was taking photos was I taking them to preserve a memory or was it just to post on instagram? Tonight I watched the sunset with the kid and didn't take a single photo. It was beautiful. But it was beautiful because of the moment and not because it would have made a killer instagram shot, which it would have, the clouds were moody as hell. This sounds a little preachy, which wasn't my intention. I have a very addictive personality and in order to keep my own self in check I have to periodically hit the restart button, on all things in life. That is all this is...I have some updates and I just need to restart in order for them to install.

Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go find an unread book on the shelf and snuggle in to a screenless bedtime. I'm just going to assume that it is going to be awesome.

And for those of you that need your daily Lylagram: