Adventures in P.Rose

A Slower Pace

Adopting a pace that patiently crawls instead of bounding forward is not really my style. I prefer the multitasking, the squeezing more than can comfortably fit in to a 24-hour day, and I have certainly been known to sacrifice sleep in an effort to check more off my to-do list.

My life often looks more like a race to run, than a journey to observe, immerse myself in and learn from.

There is something rather unsatisfying about adopting a pace that speeds forward without noticing the surroundings, or the wake behind me. There’s also something unsatisfying about letting connection fall primarily to texts, e-mails or Facebook updates.

I recently feel unnerved by people having a window into our life solely via this blog, or FB, and I feel equally disheartened about knowing details of a friend’s life merely because I scrolled through the feed on my Smartphone out of boredom.

I don’t mean to blast the Internet by any means – so much can be done with its power, and it often IS an effective means of communication.

But I find myself longing for handwritten notes, for monumental life announcements to be made on the phone or, better yet, over a cup of coffee or a glass of wine.

I feel a bit protective of our family – perhaps you should only know we launched Aidan’s first rocket after making BYO pizzas and cookies from scratch yesterday if we are, indeed friends. (And frankly, I don’t expect the masses would even care.)

I want simplicity. I want genuine connection. I want to make myself slow down and live IN THIS MOMENT – not always looking to the next thing, or frantically trying to get too much done, but really enjoying the act of spreading homemade pizza sauce on homemade pizza dough after a competitive game of Blokus with my delightful husband.

All this to say – I’m not swearing off chronicling life on this blog, or posting on FB, but it will probably be much less frequent.

We only get this life, and in this life all we can be sure of is this moment.

I want to put my love and energy into this moment, and the people I am spending it with. I want to slowly revel in the magnificent world around me and feel true gratitude. I want to live what I practice in yoga – breathing deeply with intent. I want to spend quality time with you, if we have a relationship in real life.

And so, I will.

Happy 2012.

Comments 1 Comment
Categories Life Beliefs

Twinkling Lights of Disobedience

16 Dec

Though it unquestionably annoys me at the time, I’m actually quite glad my kid thinks for himself. It would be more convenient to have a child who obeyed my every command, but I’m wrong sometimes. Aidan has no qualms about pointing out my flaws or poking holes in my rationale. And though I have to admit he can make my blood pressure rise faster a Michigan State game gone bad, I secretly harbor a bit of pride in my stubborn individual thinker of a child.

At the end of the week, I rise between 4:30 and 5 am to start getting ready for work. My reason is two-fold: I’m able to meet with third shift employees at my job this way and it also affords me the opportunity to leave work at a time conducive to picking Aidan up from school.

I try to be as quiet as I can, tiptoeing around the house gathering the necessary items to depart for a work day. But Aidan has a sixth sense about his mama – he knows when I’m up and around, and he does not like to miss a good-bye kiss to his mother.

I was doing a final pass through the house yesterday, just ready to leave, when I heard a loud whisper.

“Mom? Can I get up and wave good-bye to you out the window?”

I went to his side in bed. “No, darling. It’s super early. Just go back to sleep. I love you.”

I quietly slipped out the back door and got in my car. As I was rolling backwards down the drive way, I saw our Christmas tree illuminate the front window, and my crazy-haired child peek out from the side. He waved ferociously, mouthing the words, “I love you, Mom.”

I couldn’t help but to shake my head and smile. Even though I specifically told him to stay in bed, I’m glad he disobeyed and snuck out to see me off. He went right back to sleep after the sly farewell, and both of our mornings were undeniably better.

No one was ever memorable without making a few waves.

Comments 9 Comments
Categories Aidan Anecdotes, Loving My Child

How to Get Out of a Speeding Ticket

29 Nov

You may think from the title that this is about me, but it’s not.

Last time I got pulled over for speeding, I was immediately ticketed. I think it has something to do with wearing my emotions on my sleeve. I’m the worst liar in the world, and I’m sure the officer could see what I was truly thinking written all over my face:

“Listen, asshat. You and I both know I was going 57 in a 55 and the second I crossed into the construction zone (with zero workers present, might I add!) you clocked me because the speed limit changed to 45. You were waiting for me and I know it. I don’t want to talk about it, I refuse to plead with you, just give me the ticket.”

I would never actually say that, but I don’t need to. If you have any sense of perception, it’s obvious.

I would like you to know I successfully completed the Online Remedial Driver’s Ed course, intended for persons like myself who are generally safe drivers with no points on their license, but who earn themselves a ticket. I was far less worried about the fine than I was about points on my license and the subsequent insurance hike.

Earning 100% on all of the quizzes and the final exam got me out of points and a letter to my insurance company, as well as gifted me with a refrigerator-worthy certificate to mark my accomplishments.

(Note to those who fall in these same shoes – you are REQUIRED to take 45 minutes to read through something that takes no more than 10. And if you don’t stay active within the required reading for all 45 minutes, you’ll get logged out and have to start over! Joy.)

Anyways, let’s talk about someone who can get themselves out of a speeding ticket.

My husband.

Kyle has been pulled over three times since we started dating. Zero tickets.

The latest incident occurred this past weekend. We were in Northern Michigan for the holiday, visiting a friend’s family. We had just departed his place for the Bed & Breakfast we booked in Charlevoix. Kyle gets pulled over for going 71 in a 55.

Sixteen mph over the posted speed limit! This is how you get out of a speeding ticket:

Drive your wife’s car that is SO disorganized, she is literally rifling through 20 expired proofs of insurance in an effort to locate the current one. I could actually feel Kyle’s blood pressure rising, because his current proof of insurance and registration are neatly located in a little envelope in his glove box. I’m all, “So sorry, Officer! For some reason I have, like, five that expired in July! I’m sure I have a current one, just give me a minute here…”

Have a crying child in the back. In the hustle and bustle of getting pulled over and wanting to present ourselves well, Aidan was instructed to “sit still and shut up” by my mother. I should note that my mother has NEVER told Aidan to “shut up” and she said so in the nicest tone. The same tone you would gently inform someone to be quiet. But Aidan was so horrified at hearing that come out of her mouth, he literally burst into tears and let the waterworks roll in the back seat.

Even though she influenced the Aidan tears, have your mother-in-law, who is sweet and charming , in the back smiling at the officer.

Don’t make excuses and just own up to the speeding.

Evidently that is the recipe for not even getting a warning for going 16 over. I’m pretty sure the officer recognized the hot mess in the car and thought, looks like this dude has enough going on here – no need to make his day any worse!

I’ll have to work on my approach. (Or, you know, just not speed.)

Comments 2 Comments
Categories Confessions, Humor

“Good Job!”

2 Nov

Praise is a slippery slope. I find it akin to a giant piece of double frosting chocolate cake. It tastes really good, for a short while, and it makes you want more. But it’s ultimately a bad idea for your ass.

I grew up seeking it in most ways. I wanted that paper with the A on it to be displayed on the fridge. I wanted an “atta girl” when I took the initiative to clean the house. I liked getting compliments when I took the time to get ready for Homecoming.

Funny thing I learned along the way - praise is not gratifying. At all.

Because all of a sudden you make major decisions based on what other people think. It becomes more about other people’s reactions to your choices than YOUR opinion of your choices.

You probably have a general idea of the things I enjoy, based on this blog. But I don’t need someone else to affirm my decisions to go to yoga, participate in NaNoWriMo as of yesterday or give me excessive kudos for making dinner or teaching my son to read. I do the things I do because they light my soul on fire. I would still do them, even if no one else ever knew about them, never gave me a positive word about what I engage in.

Intrinsic motivation is surprisingly challenging to teach. I want to praise Aidan for all the things he’s doing right - working hard at school, improving at soccer, helping me wash the dishes, listening to me the first time (when he does!). But I don’t want the reason he does these things to be out of a need to hear praise. I want his joy at sounding out a difficult word in his book to be because he’s proud of himself, not because I’m proud of him.

The other day he was working at the table and said, “I’m almost ready for you to look. I want to impress you.”

It made me cringe.

“You don’t need to impress me, son. You just need to feel good about the job you’re doing.”

Such a simple statement. So very hard to teach. That praise dragon is easy to fall victim to. I hope I can help the little one build confidence without relying on others.

On an unrelated side note, I also hope he stops losing teeth. Three across the top in a month!