I'm a bit distracted this week.
I'm up early, I'm exercising, I'm napping, I'm ferrying children to activities, I'm sitting with good intentions at my desk, I'm making lists and plans, but my attention is a wanderer. I've found myself dissolved in tears. I've found myself bizarrely flat with calm, and the next moment zapped with elevated emotion.
It was a year ago, tomorrow, that I got the news about Juliet being a finalist for the Governor General's Award. Strange that this same season, a year later, should occasion another, altogether different heightened career moment. I note also that apparently it's been a year since I last got a haircut. What with all the glamourous travel, I splurged. But I haven't had a good excuse to get one since, and may have inherited a few parsimonious personality traits that will prove impossible to kick. The children enjoy mocking me for my regular (and joyful) 50% off purchases at the grocery store ("Really, Mom? Fifty-per-cent-off yogurt?" "What? It's organic!" "When does it expire?" "Everyone knows expiry dates are inaccurate!") Which is a roundabout way of saying that I'd like a haircut, but need to convince myself that there's a good reason to get one.
This morning marked the start of what promises to be a new era in our lives. AppleApple has begun early morning swim practices, thrice weekly. I woke her at 5am on the dot. She was excited, ready to go when her ride arrived (thank goodness for carpooling). I set off through eerie fog on a brisk walk, punctuated every eight minutes by one blissful minute of running. I was alone in the neighbourhood except for the man on the bicycle who was scavenging bottles from people's trash. He said good morning, and I felt ashamed for having been afraid, momentarily, of someone up so early, working so hard.
I managed an hour's exercise. A shower. A breakfast of poached eggs on buttered toast. All before picking up my swimmer and her friend from the pool. AppleApple devoured two bananas on the (short) ride home. She had to leave for school, and running club, while I went for a nap. Oh boy, did I need that nap.
I'm worried about her. I hope she will learn to nap, or to go to bed early. This is a big challenge, and much as I love early rising, it works only when lost sleep gets replaced.
Other sports currently being practiced by my children: football (Albus, who's up at 6:30 twice weekly for practice); karate (Albus); swimming (CJ: "We did dolphin jumps!"); gymnastics (Fooey). And we haven't even started soccer.
So ... distractions. Work. Edits. Revisions. Readings. Reading. Teaching. Ferrying. Truck needing repair (again!). Vertigo. Permission forms. Agendas. Signatures. Homework. Piano practice. Field trip volunteering (what was I thinking?). Local food (why am I irresistably drawn to ordering a half-bushel of eggplant for pickup on Friday? Along with a half-bushel of tomatoes? Talk me down, someone?).
Tonight, the start of what I can only hope will become a mini-tradition. I'm taking my family out for hamburgers to celebrate selling the US rights to Girl Runner. We should have celebrated the Canadian rights with ... pancakes and maple syrup?
Labels: books, exercise, hair, kids, local food, morning, running, swimming, work, writing