I’ve been tweeting for a bit now, that means using twitter.com for those who don’t tweet. Some of my more pithy tweets about home-life I like to label with #domesticbliss.
How ironic that I would enjoy the simple changes that take place inside a home every day. I never thought I’d be domestic. My course 15 years ago set me on the travelling, sad artist’s path. The engine on that stalled, praise Jehovah. Then I asked myself if I wanted children. Once I knew the answer was yes, I asked how many. One, two, three, four, or any number until menopause? Really, I thought about each of those. My (and Brad’s) answer(s) was 2, 3, or 4 to be worked out as we went along.
In 9th grade, Whitney and I were going to live in New York, go into advertising, and have a dog. No marriage! She ate her words too. I wonder if she reads this.
This week has been domestically astounding. Astounding may not seem like the right word, but in domestic terms, it is! Monday and Tuesday, Arwen’s doctor appt. and the furnace maintenance appt. were both completed BEFORE the appointment times were even supposed to start. This never happens people! But it did.
I added 100 words to mapping the woods which is 100 words more than I had before I sat down. Using yoga and martial arts, I worked through two “injuries” that were probably caused by the yoga or the martial arts. And I’ve been to 3 tae kwon do classes this week because next week is belt promotion. These things happened on top of the usual accomplishments of not yelling whenever I want to, making good food, and giving everyone clean clothes.
Ok, this is not so astounding, but yesterday I scarfed down a delicious, large curry burrito in 15 minutes (which I’ll never do again) and still took Arwen to jazz and later took all the kids to church. A lesser woman would’ve just gone to bed. I certainly wanted to.
Today has been so-so. I think the week was already a success. Today is icing. Next week may be the most boring ever. I’m sure I won’t write about it.