Nightly Checklist

Time for another check in with the Abundant Mama Rise & Shine Challenge (which is taking much longer than the ten days suggested, and I’m okay with that [note how I even used the word “suggested”]). 

In this installment, we are advised to create a list each night that we can do quickly to facilitate the mornings. This is her example: 

On your nightly checklist, you will likely want to include the following:

  • Prepare lunches and snacks
  • Quick clean up
  • Pack bags
  • Pick out clothes
  • Tomorrow’s 3 to 5 Must-Dos

I think I will have to work on this a bit as I go, as I have never really had a regular routine like this, but here goes: 

My nightly checklist:

  • Prepare (and/or plan) breakfast/lunch – currently, only applicable Mondays & Wednesdays, as Lucas only goes to school on Tuesdays & Thursdays
  • Tidy living room
  • Run dishwasher/Clean kitchen
  • Pick out clothes – for me and for the boy
  • Tomorrow’s 3 to 5 Must-Dos
  • Something involving Meal Planning (which is my next “project” to tackle, as we both need to eat better and save money and I need to figure out how to do that)

So, there is it. EVERY NIGHT. I have a white board in my kitchen (Thank you, Pinterest) that I use for this and I do it occasionally, but not enough to be a routine. And that’s what I need. 

Now, the more difficult part. Her previous post was about sleep rituals, of which I have none. I’ve been thinking about these in general the past couple of weeks, and I think what she means are doing things not only like the above checklist, which are incredibly helpful and more importantly, necessary, but doing little things to recharge me.

For example, I am constantly upset that I let my feet get to the state that they are currently in. It may be weird, but I love my feet and my feet are really important to me. Not only are they crazy useful – not having a car, I use them to get everywhere I need to go, but they are also my gauge of wellbeing, as odd as that may sound. If I’m getting too hot, my feet are the first things to let me know it (and the only solution is taking my shoes off). If I’m not eating properly, my feet ache. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve always felt a connection with my feet. I know that sounds weird, particularly in light of the fact that everyone is literally “connected to” their feet. However, it’s how I feel and that’s that. So, that said, I need to take care of them. I need to put lotion on them and scrub off those icky hard heels. Somehow, this is something I can incorporate into a ritual for myself. 

Beyond that, again, this is going to come down to meditation and yoga and I very much do need to figure out a way for myself to integrate that more into my life. I’ll keep working on that. 


This is going to turn into one of *those* blogs…

You know the ones I’m talking about. The ones that talk about their amazing gluten-free, paleo rice cake made with 100% organic, extra virgin, cold pressed coconut oil, their Bikram Yoga classes and how amazing they feel after running 5 miles. The ones that go on and on about how clean they feel inside now that they are taking in all their nutrition in vitamin and juice form. The ones that spit rainbows and poop glitter, they are just overflowing with joy and well-being. 

I hate those people. But I am also jealous of them. I hate them because I’m jealous (and sometimes because they are annoying) and I’m jealous because I feel disgusting inside. I feel lethargic and toxic. I have no energy and I seriously think I just might be addicted to M&Ms and Daims. And even as I’m writing this, I’m thinking to myself: Maybe I should just go get myself another Daim. They are just the mini ones… 

What has become of me? 

So, I think maybe if I post it here, I’ll be held accountable somehow. I’ll be forced to really look at my eating habits and what I’m doing to my body. However, not until next week.

I know, I know, there’s no day like today. BUT, I am going to Barcelona all by my onesie this weekend: no husband, no child. I am going to be on a strict tapas and wine diet (and as much of both as possible), with the occasional café con leche de soja thrown in for good measure. So my new diet and my very annoying blog/self will start after my holiday.

Feel free to un-follow if you are already bothered. 


Why rainy day gratitude?

I have been trying to find a journaling/blogging/writing style that will result in my being: A, an excellent (and quite possibly published) author and B, a happy, successful and, while we’re at it, thin individual. As you will note, this is my first post on this blog (that I started months ago). So far? Not published. Not successful. Not thin. Sigh.

In 2011, I tried listing three things I was grateful for every day, in the hopes that I would magically turn into one of those people who wakes up every morning beaming sunshine instead of wanting to punch my morning-person husband in the face. I think I made it about 66 days or so, which is pretty damn good, in my opinion. I still, however, want to punch my husband in the face in the mornings (or more so now, my 1 year old child – which I’ve heard is an even bigger no-no). I also noticed a pattern; A slightly disturbing one, if I’m being honest. I would say, generously speaking, at least 60% of the things I was grateful for were food or food related. hmm… Not really helpful for that whole “thin” thing, for starters.

Now, was I grateful in the “Thank you, Lord for this food which nourishes my body and gives me energy to take on my day with zest and joyful intention”? No. It was more like “Yay, pizza!”. Don’t get me wrong. I love me some pizza and am truly grateful for the Domino’s man that brings it to me on Pizza Fridays (Yeah, that’s how we roll around here). But there’s something seriously wrong when your husband takes you on a weekend trip to the glorious city of Milan to see the spectacular Tori Amos in concert and all you can write about is the freakin pasta (mmmm…. pasta).

So, what’s my problem? Well, my issue with the Milan trip is that I was 2 months pregnant and terribly nauseated the entire time (and let me tell you, that bus ride from the Milan airport into the city center is NOTHING to be grateful for). My issue currently is that I live in a country where I don’t have many friends, I don’t speak the language and it rains. A lot. My “bigger picture” issue is that I have battled depression and anxiety for most of my life. (And, after all, what’s the best way to deal with a social anxiety disorder? Why, move to a country where you know no one, don’t speak the language and have to deal with new and horrible situations every day. In the rain. Of course. SMH.)

Am I here, then, in this blog, going to try to rectify all that by again trying to make grandios declarations of my gratitude for all to bask in how wonderful I’ve dealt with this ridiculous situation I’ve put myself in? No. Here, I am going to be real (finally). Sans “shoulds” and “should nots”. I’m going to acknowledge the striving towards true gratitude I have always had, but I’m also going to allow for the rainy days, even if they come weeks in a row (which they do – seriously, this country sucks).

I am also NOT going to feel bad for being extremely happy and grateful about pizza.