Uhg. How quickly I let my routines fall to the wayside. Is everyone like this or is it just some of us? It’s like that pop-singer’s song that was turned into a Sesame-Street version that got banned, that I’ll never get out of my head. I think it was Katy Perry, because I remember boobs. Lots of boobs. In purple. She sang to Elmo, with her purple-clad boobs, and a pouty face: “You’re up, then you’re down. You’re hot, then you’re cold.”
I don’t mean to be like this, despite claims to the contrary. (My aunt once said something along the lines of, “I think you like being such a mess.” No, I don’t.)
We left for vacation in early June. I was going to tell you readers, and warn you not to expect to hear from me but not to worry that I was checked into a mental hospital or had run off to join PETA. But it was all I could do to get myself and three kids packed for 10 days in ONE carry-on. (I may not be as weirdly cheap as you, Katie, (seriously, the ketchup-thing was just over the top. Look what happens to you when I move away.) but I’ll be damned if I’m going to pay an airline to CHECK MY BAG.)
So, yes, the Poloncheks went on vacation. We needed it to be a true vacation from pretty much everything: the usual house, the usual weather, the usual routine. So we went away to a place that was super-hot with humidity that made my hair curl into the old tendrils you knew and loved in Kansas, watched TV a LOT, used air-conditioning, rotated between pajamas and swim suits, and slept in and stayed up even later than usual. And NO BLOGGING. Blogging makes me see the world so differently and, honestly, not feel like I can be 100% present because I’m always making notes for a post in my head. I didn’t want to do that to my family on vacation.
But we’re back now, we have been for almost a week, and I can’t seem to sit down and write the million posts I feel backed-up on. (It’s like blogging constipation.)
But our host (is that what it’s called, techies?), wordpress, features new, well-written blogs everyday on “freshly pressed” and I check in with them when I’m feeling like a loser-blogger. One caught my eye for my particular sense of loser-ness. It was on creating more and worrying less. One point in particular, #3, spoke to me. (Some of the others I’ve already mastered, like getting used to rejection.) It was on establishing a regular creative practice, or, the much feared concept of a routine. I was getting there with this blog, before we moved to a new house a few months ago, and then I was getting there again, before we went on vacation. But as soon as I miss a few days, that’s it until I just FORCE myself to type SOMETHING, which is why you are getting this ramble instead of the new topics I’ve wanted to post on. They are, as follows:
- My long-awaited and much-anticipated thoughts on 50 Shades of Grey.
- What your swimwear choice says about you.
- Why I blaim the advertising staff at Honda for all that’s wrong with my generation’s understanding of parenting.
- A tribute to my mum, who is here, helping with domestic duties, and encouraging me to write every day.
- What a broken swiffer has taught me about mindfulness and house-cleaning.
And, of course, the other things I’ve brought up in previous posts that I’ve promised to extrapolate on and have yet to do so.
But, here is my first post “back” and my re-commitment to maintaining a routine for creative practice. (Although I do fear it’s like the many times I kept re-dedicating my virginity to the church until one of the young-person group-leaders said, “Maria, maybe you should stop setting yourself up for failure.”)
That’s what I’ve got today folks. Talk soon.