It’s the title of a book I’m reading: “Eat That Frog,” about procrastination. The idea is to do your biggest, baddest thing first thing in the day because it’s likely nothing else will be that big or bad and you’ll feel pretty good the rest of the day. Because you got the icky thing done first. I’m not eating the frog today, mainly because I feel that not stringing up my sons this morning was a pretty good excuse.
Late start day, the first one of the year. Start school 2 1/2 hours late, at 11:35. Do you have any idea how long 2 1/2 hours is when the kids are running around screaming and you can’t really go anywhere and you have work to do and a headache coming on? I’d rather they get out 2 1/2 hours late, at 1:00. So now I have four hours of blessed silence before they head back. At least A has all his homework done for the week and I don’t have to battle that tonight.
The fires in California are making themselves known here in Colorado. Yesterday was so smoky and hazy that I had to close up the house and crank on the a/c for the first time in a week. Sunrise yesterday was orange, and we had gray skies all day. I really feel for the folks out there; we had some bad fires here several years ago, but nothing like this.
Oh. Hey. Full moon on Friday. That explains this morning’s craziness.
I’ve decided to give up multi-tasking. It wasn’t working for me. I’ve tried for years, and I mean for years, to multi-task, in the hopes of getting more done in an increasingly shrinking day. Instead all I managed to do was increase my stress level, which has negatively impacted my health, and made me a raging shrew. So I’m now doing a 180 and working on being present in whatever I’m doing. I’ll have exceptions for listening to music while I work (big kisses, Pandora!), running the laundry or dishwasher while doing something else, or the like. If I don’t get it all done in a day, I either have too much going on, I need to find/hire someone to help me, or my family (read: the boys) have to step up and do more. We’ll see how it goes.
How do you decide when it’s time to give something up? Something you do, you enjoy, but…eh, I don’t want to say the excitement isn’t there anymore…but maybe you can’t see yourself doing it much longer. Something that would impact others if you gave it up. I know the world keeps spinning and the sun continues to rise and set, but…how and when do you make that decision?
A is starting to make noises about starting karate again. After last year’s back and forth about quitting, I’m really not all that thrilled about this turn of events. I’d rather he take up underwater basket weaving or multi-national hypersonic Nurf ping-pong lacrosse. BUT. Karate is about the best thing an ADHD kid can do, especially if that particular kid isn’t on meds. Crap.
I’m not feelin’ the love with the school this year. I’m not getting real good vibes (like my real good English) from A’s teacher, getting great vibes from J’s kindergarten teacher (she’s fantastically awesome). A’s teacher…hm…I don’t know. There was the thing with him being kept in from recess on the second day of school to finish some work, I’m hearing grumblings from other parents that the whole class is either not getting or is getting a shortened recess, homework assignments aren’t clear… But the thing that’s sticking me…sigh… At the beginning of the year A’s teacher sent home a “Parental Feedback” form for us to fill out and send back, telling her about our kid and learning styles and stuff. I didn’t fill it out right away, and finally sent it in on Monday. I had to type it up instead of handwriting it simply because my handwriting is illegible on a good day and I had so much she needed to know about him. Emailed it to her on Monday and? Not.ONE.Word.Back. Not a “thanks for sending this,” not a “yeah, you’re right, we should meet soon,” just total and complete radio silence. Did I freak her out (or put a target on his back) by admitting that he’s ADHD and not on meds? Did I get an eye-roll because I mentioned his gifted testing and hinted at accommodations? Am I looking too much into this? I suppose I should email and set up a meeting or something. Sigh…just when I had the second grade teachers up to speed. How do I balance advocating for my child with NOT being a helicopter parent? Bleh.
Maybe if I keep typing my office will clean itself, and my big ugly frog of the day will eat itself. Not likely. Suppose I should have some lunch, that might make the frog easier to slide down my gullet.