a very excellent day

I had one today. Or at least what passes for one around here. I think that what constitutes a really excellent day varies so much from person to person, and from year to year, but here was mine:

The earache woke me at about 7:30, but it wasn't too bad. Plus, I'd had some of my beloved Tylenol PM at bedtime, so I'd slept like a log for about 7 hours, and I was fine.

The good part about being up at 7:30 was that I was alone. Emily had spent the night at her grandparents', and Andrew and Jonah were sawing wood. Now, this may not sound like much to you but, let me tell you, around here, solitude is at a premium.

I had been meaning all vacation to get caught up on cutting my Brownie video, but hadn't gotten to it, and it was nagging at me. Each year, I take a series of digital photos and some video and, thanks to the magic that is iMovie, iTunes, iPhoto, and iDVD, I make a movie for my girls. It's truly a labor of love, as it takes easily 50 hours of work to produce, and it's much easier if I keep up with it over the course of the year. But, like so many things, that's easier to intend than to accomplish. So, after dressing for exercise (also easier to intend than to accomplish), I sat down to cut my film, just for a few minutes. And a few more, and a few more, and a few more.

Three hours later, I stopped. The sheer luxury of three uninterrupted and totally focused hours to work is hard to describe. At one point during this, Lisa called to talk to me about her various aural ailments, but I mostly grunted at her and then hung up. I was concentrating, Man. It was great.

Jonah was still sleeping, so I woke Andrew, who was interested in some daytime nookie, a commodity even more rare and precious than 60 consecutive minutes to do as I please without interrruption. Also great.

Soon it was time for Andrew to pick Emily up from Bobbie, so I plugged in a tape for Jonah and cleaned the upstairs...put away laundry, generally caught up on chores. This always lowers my stress level and makes me feel like I am not too behind the curve, so I was pleased to do it.

When Andrew and Emily came home, I fed the kids, and then, somehow, incredibly, they both managed to play cooperatively or independently and not bug me too much all afternoon. Shelly called, and we talked about everything and nothing for an hour or more while I cleaned and reorganized the freezer and my spice pantries. Boring chores, yes, but I was please to cross them off my mental list. Shelly was cleaning out files. We both agreed that the chitchat made the jobs go faster and tried to figure out how to schedule regular time for this new activity.

A couple of days ago, Andrew and I decided that we wanted to have a date tonight. We were going to have the sitter come at 7 or so, but then I had a brainstorm...why pay her to come after we've already done all the work? We rescheduled and had her come at 4:00, so she could play with the kids, feed them, and put them to bed. Perfect!

We went to the 5:20 showing of House of Sand and Fog. It was great. Great. Stop reading this and go now great. It was so so so sad, but just my favorite kind of movie -- about tremendous things happening in the lives of tiny people (average folks, not midgets, for the literal-minded among you). Events get set in motion, and people get carried along, despite their efforts to effect change. The performances were terrific, especially Ben Kingsley's, which had me sobbing in my seat, but not in that Terms of Endearment Lump Under the Young Mother's Arm kind of way. Only Ron Eldard didn't do much for me, but maybe the part was kind of shallowly written. Or maybe he's just bland.

We got some Chinese takeout, paid the sitter, and ate dinner. Andrew went up to work for a while, and my mother-in-law called. She was very complimentary about Emily's behavior, which was nice to hear, and didn't seem to get offended (even laughed at the joke!) when I told her that I thought no possible good could come from her now owning a home with an alarm system, technospacker that she is. It's only a matter of time before the police show up, guns drawn, while she and Mike frantically punch at the keypad.

Soon after she hung up, Alan called. Perfect! With last season's Sopranos finale in the background -- not too much attention required -- more blabbing took place. Andrew wandered downstairs and found me on the love seat, dishes done, one pillow behind my head, another under my knees, lights down low, headset on, gabbing away.

I feel like I've had a 14 hour massage.

Posted by volfie at January 3, 2004 11:53 PM