I can generally tell how productive the day will turn out by 10am.  Psychic?  Nah.  It’s a simple matter of discipline.  If I get myself in gear and do the majority of my “Daily Disciplines”, then I know I’ll have a productive day.  If I falter and blow them off, then the day is already shot by mid-morning.

Amazing but true.

These are small practices, baby steps in the world at large, but for a mother of two tiny children I’d say it’s a pretty good challenge.

sunshine girl

Make the bed.

This has become much more important now that the bed is in the living room.  (In a space that used to be a bedroom at some point in time so it’s really not that weird.  And it works for us so there you go.)

Brush everyone’s teeth.  And floss mine.

This is much trickier than I ever imagined it could be.

serpent sky

Make something.

Sit at the table and eat breakfast together.

Get the giant stroller and go for a walk.

Even when it looks like this outside:old man winter arrives

I’ll admit that we don’t necessarily get out into snowy weather every day…do you have any idea how long it takes to get them dressed for this?

Sit still with myself for a moment of peace.  Every single day.

This usually involves cookies, a cup of Moroccan Mint Green Tea, and Facebook.  Today it’s chocolate biscotti that I made over the weekend.

Dance.

Usually in the living room.

And let’s not forget:

Dishes.

Laundry.  Laundry.  Laundry.  And more laundry.

Vacuuming.

Sometimes these mundane tasks require a little extra boost of motivation ~ I follow my friend Asja’s advice and put on a cardigan, some polka dots, a pretty necklace, and some tall shoes.

donna reed, peaceful mama j style

My heels of choice are Danskos.

24. August 2008 · Comments Off · Categories: Uncategorized · Tags: , ,

When our midwife saw this picture, she asked me if I was in labor when Papa J took it.  Nope.  This was one year ago this week (three weeks before the arrival of The Boy) during the stretch of record breaking temperatures and a nasty fire season.  The 105 degree days were filled with the acrid, clinging, permeating smell of smoke.  There was no escape.  

These days mark the beginning of my lessons in endurance and self-sacrifice.  The juxtapostion of misery and gratitude.  There is no chart that can document this kind of growth, there is no percentile to fall into, there is only the blissful opportunity to experience each moment and become the woman I was meant to be with honor and grace.

Though I must admit that it’s a little easier when my skin is not bursting at the seams and the projected forecast is 85 and clear as a bell.