Seven Quick Takes: The Edition In Which I Break Out My Imaginary Lasso

1. It was SO helpful to me to post that list yesterday. When I was tempted to get discouraged or off-task, I kept my eyes on the prize: <s>. I don't know what it says about me that I am so motivated by crossing things off lists, but I am.


2. When I posted it, I thought I would get it all done in one day. I don't know what it says about me that I consistently have completely unreasonable expectations for myself, but I do.


3. On the subject of completely unreasonable expectations, remember my New Year's resolutions? FlyLady got flung under the dissertation bus and my daily decade average is probably only in the high single digits, but I had been doing well with not eating sugar until the weekend. And then blam -- it always takes me by surprise, how much worse I feel when I start eating sugar again. Energy, equilibrium, everything. Blech.


4. On the subject of blech, I have to revise my results chapter this weekend and there are so many things I'd rather do. Organize the basement! Replace the annoying flapper valve on the downstairs toilet! Clean out the dryer lint hose! Have a recreational root canal! Go through childbirth! At least after childbirth you get a baby. My dissertation is not going to be very cute or very cuddly. If I lie down and die of dissertationosis in the next couple of weeks, put it on my tombstone: Here Lies Jamie, Done In By Figures 3.1 and 3.2 Because Lordy They Just Would Not Cooperate.


5. Sorry, this quick takes post has been interrupted by the search for a lasso with which to rein in my inner drama queen.


6. Huh, with my inner drama queen tied up (imagine Miss Piggy in one of the Muppet movies, tossing her hair and squealing and demanding to be freed in order to write more epitaphs for herself), I don't have very much to say.


7. How about a baby story? With all of my babies I have played a silly game. I ease them down over my shoulder, holding their ankles as they dangle down my back, and say, "Oh, dear, I've lost my baby! Where could he be? I'd better look around for him." Then I turn around in gentle circles and usually the upside-down baby giggles at silly Mama. Holding on very carefully, I say, "Oh, no, I've lost my baby AND there's a big LUMP on my back. What could it be?" I slide them down all the way until we can peek at each other through my knees. (I am doing a terrible job of explaining this.) I say, "OH, it's YOU! I'm so glad to see you!" and we both laugh as I set them down on the floor.
   
   Stella does not think this is a fun game. She clings to my back like some kind of fierce little marsupial and will not slide down. I have almost given up trying it with her, but the boys and I had so much fun with it when they were toddlers. I want to tell her, "If you could relax a little, sweetie, and trust that you were in good hands, you would have more fun."
   
   Which could be a lesson for her mother as well.

More quick takes here.