I didn’t always feel this way. For someone who keeps a public blog I tend to be more private. I try not to overshare. It takes me a long time to feel comfortable with another person. And it’s not just that. I am a vault: a secret shared with me goes nowhere. Over the years, I have learned of and quietly kept the secrets of many.
I have a favorite breakfast: sunny-side up eggs with a side of toast. Nothing fancy. It began when I was a girl. My father would wake my brother and me and woo us down to breakfast with the promise of something nice. One day it would be these happy little eggs. Another day maybe it was a frittata with some leftover potato and onion. The days he had a little more time, he would spread margarine on sliced bread and bake it in tin foil until the edges crisped and the centers mellowed. He called this simply: heated bread. Some mornings he didn’t cook. On these days we’d come down to find a paper bag filled with fresh sugar doughnuts. Not powdered sugar but ones with little rock sugar crystals that crunched with each bite. I’m sure his mornings back then were busy. I’m sure he didn’t always want to get up so early so he could think about what to make; then take the time to make it. But he did it anyway. I think …
As I write this I’m reflecting on the first month of fall. It’s shaping up to be a nice one and already it feels different from recent years. Our two kids are a little older and, for the first time in a long time, I’ve been thinking more about how I want the next few years to look. Certainly parenting and being a good partner play huge roles. But what I’m really talking about is the ability to seek out more of what interests me at this stage in life. That after many years of being fully focused on being a mom, there’s a little more time for me now (wow), and a huge desire to figure it out.
I’m coming off a day where so many things need attention: the house, the laundry, the mail. So what do I do? Blow all that off and get sucked into a bad movie. Some people would call this kind of bad movie, A Guilty Pleasure. A movie you might not own up to having seen. But I’m not picky. And when I say bad I really mean something that’s usually too dated, too scary, too sappy, too stupid, too sweet. The kind of film that if you happen to catch two minutes, there is simply no way out. Unless you watch the whole damn thing. I can pretty much make a case for watching almost anything. Especially if that means I won’t be doing something I should be doing. Here’s my list of the two hours you’ll never get back:
leeniespace 