7.5.2010 - One Sentence Journal

We've spent the Fourth of July weekend down the shore, which has been....interesting. Bess had tons of fun at the beach, but Harry's not that into the ocean, plus it's been a bit too hot for him to really spend much time outside. Pretty much the best thing Harry's done this weekend is take a three hour nap today. He doesn't tolerate disruptions well - he isn't nearly as flexible as Bess. He's tired, and displaced, and hot, and all sorts of cranky.

Bess, however, is as enthusiastic as always. Yesterday she was watching Sports Center with her dad, and exclaimed to me, "Mom! Did you know that baseball player scored three run arounds yesterday???"

7.3.2010 - One Sentence Journal

This morning I asked Harry if he needed a diaper change.  He fled, knocking down furniture and slamming doors in his wake, like a perp evading the detectives on an episode of Law & Order.  Who knew diaper changes were that bad?

Bess spent the morning working on her dance moves, practicing her ballet positions and trying to teach them to Harry.  This afternoon she and her cousin found a princess dress-up app on John's iPad.  How did I ever produce a pink sparkles twirly girl?

One Sentence Journal

I am currently reading (well, listening to, anyway) The Happiness Project by Gretchin Rubin.  I'm really liking it and finding that she has a lot of really useful suggestions.  I am on the chapter about August right now, in which she talks about starting a one sentence journal where she just jots a sentence or two at the end of every day about something that happened that day.

I started thinking that one of the reasons I don't blog as much as I would like is that I feel like I have to have something Earth-shattering to say in order to commit it to paper (as it were), and often I don't.  I am too busy living my life, doing my thing and caring for my young family to come up with profundities every day.  So I think I am going to try an Ahimsa Mama version of the one sentence journal.

Here it goes:

This morning I was reading while Harry was otherwise occupied, or so I thought.  Apparently he was just biding his time because he came into the living room, closed my book and said, "The End."  I guess it was time to play.

Bess has been at dance camp all week (don't EVEN get me started on dance culture, that's a topic for a whole other - looooong - blog post).  I hate it - and believe me, I mean hate - but she LOVES it.  Her teacher even commented to me (completely unprovoked) how she is so focused and works so hard, and has great technique for her age.  Imagine me, a dance mom?  Egads!