I spent a half-day yesterday with my oldest friend, Jov, and her two kids: Luka who’s almost four years old, and Mateja, who’s almost one and a half years old. I had a good time, though the first thing I did when I got home was change out of my clothing into snot- and mushed-up-food-free clothing. Jov knows I’m a germaphobe so my actions won’t surprise her. Before leaving, I made sure to gloat about the time I’d spend relaxing for the rest of the evening while she’s occupied with bathtime, bedtime routines, and diaper changes. Even though she feigned jealousy I know she wouldn’t trade places with me for the world. Can you blame her?

Since Jov had her babies it’s been harder to make time to hang out and catch up with each other. Our schedules aren’t compatible: her nights leave her exhausted after a day of kid-wrangling while her weekends are full of kid-focused activities. My weekends are sometimes busy and my days are spent working. That’s why I suggested I find time to see them during the day and it worked well.

There was a time when it was difficult hanging out with Jov because so many aspects of her life represented things that I wished for myself, things I mentioned recently as thoughts of turning 33 have begun to dance in my head. The pain came not because I wanted to switch spots but because I wanted to be experiencing those things too. I really like how nicely things happened for her: she and her husband dated for four years and have been married now for six and a half years; they got plenty of dating life and married-without-kids life, which I always wanted. However, I’m certain that things happen for a reason, my time will come, and the way things end up working out will be exactly what I need. I plan to enjoy the ride in the meantime. I’m also glad that our friendship has withstood these life changes.

I laugh when I think of all the incomplete conversations we had yesterday. In fact, I need to send Jov an email to finish those conversations and ask her to finish some of the thoughts she started but couldn’t complete. We’re also planning a pedicure in the near future to give us some interrupted time and I’m looking forward to that.

Updated to add: the things I’ll remember are Mateja’s smiles, how well Luka knows Adele’s 21 album, dancing around in the living room to Adele’s Rumour Has It, playing pretend with Luka.

Filed under: Friends, Introspective by jummy | 33221 Comment »http%3A%2F%2Fooof.ca%2Fblog%2F2012%2F02%2F29%2Fcatching-up-with-an-old-friend%2FCatching+up+with+an+old+friend2012-02-29+06%3A39%3A58jummyhttp%3A%2F%2Fooof.ca%2Fblog%2F%3Fp%3D3322

My tendency to procrastinate is kind of like my tendency to eat sugar (innate? instinctive? inborn?), and it’s led to tons of unnecessary stress for me so I’m done with it. Really! Leaving behind decades of procrastinating is really as easy as just doing it…now. I mean for goodness sake: I even procrastinate putting on lipbalm when my lips are dying for it and a stick of the stuff is lying within my reach!

(Oh, and I don’t think my destiny is sugar consumption…that was a joke!)

I’ve been wanting to vacuum my house for two weeks. A couple of years ago, I inquired on Facebook about how late is too late to be vacuuming when you have a neighbour who lives below you and I think people had said 9pm at that time. In my head, over time, that shifted to 8pm (I actually love vacuuming; I just felt bad because the lady who lives below me is probably in her 60s), and given my tendency to get home late from work, the vacuuming wasn’t getting done. Saturdays would be ideal, but I was too busy sleeping in, washing my hair (really), leaving on the conditioner for an hour then rinsing it out, doing laundry, and slothing (not a word but it really should be) about to add anything else to my schedule. And on Sundays I’d head to my parents’ place after church so I’d get home too late to vacuum (if I didn’t sleep over).

Everything changed this past Friday: I got home (late, but before 8pm) and instead of unwinding (which can take anywhere from 30 minutes to “the rest of the evening”), I immediately vacuumed. And instead of doing the upstairs on Saturday as I told myself I could, I just did it all on Friday evening. And instead of telling myself I could do the laundry on Saturday like I usually do, I put in a load as I was going to bed on Friday night. And when I woke up frightfully early on Saturday (anytime before 11am is truly frightful, but this was before 9am!), I allowed myself to stay in bed until 9:30am but then I kicked myself out of bed, put that laundry in the dryer, did my hair routine and used that hour with my hair in a conditioning cap to clean my kitchen. It felt great, and even though this is a long weekend I already feel like I was extraordinarily productive.

As I look around my house, there is still so much that is out of place: papers need to be filed (doing that once this entry is complete), same with receipts, Christmas decor needs to be put in the storage room (ditto), and two of my succulents are dying to be transplanted (I really want to put this off but I have no good reason to, especially since I have two new, larger pots). By doing things right away, I’ll save precious brain space that I used to use to unsuccessfully keep track of my unending to do lists.

Win-win.

Filed under: Goals, Introspective by jummy | 33032 Comments »http%3A%2F%2Fooof.ca%2Fblog%2F2012%2F02%2F19%2Fon-doing%2FOn+doing2012-02-19+23%3A13%3A21jummyhttp%3A%2F%2Fooof.ca%2Fblog%2F%3Fp%3D3303

I’ve been trying to write about how I’ve feeling been lately (crummy) and how I feel about most humans (annoyed), but those entries didn’t do much for my mood. Instead I’ll talk about how much Brother #2 inspires me to be a better version of myself.

First off, Brother #2 has a healthy self- and body-image. He’ll always be cute to me as my baby brother but the truth is he deals with acne, while the rest of us got off easy: Brother #1, like my mom, doesn’t know what a pimple is (and has smooth, gorgeous skin), my sister is familiar with zits but not quite as familiar as I am (a familiarity that has increased in the last two weeks). Brother #1, ever the bully, used to regularly try to make Brother #2 feel ugly and insecure about his acne and his looks (Brother #2′s fairly slender) but it never worked. Brother #2′s not cocky (except in jest). Whenever he starts thinking he’s entitled to anything he wants and he shows signs of brattiness (youngest child syndrome?), all it takes is my sister or I hollering at him to remind him of what truly matters before he apologizes (not always right that instant but within the hour). What I’ve learned from him is that you have to be your own biggest fan and think you’re awesome (just make sure you don’t tell everyone you meet that or they’ll hate you).

Brother #2 is also a peacemaker, happy-go-lucky, and a chatty and engaging person. I know, I sound like a groupie (or a proud parent) but honestly I hope you have someone in your life who plays this role. As the youngest, he’s used to being nagged and picked on by all his siblings. With age he’s gotten his own voice and he can snap back at us pretty quickly, however, the boy never lets the sun go down on his anger: within an hour he’s back trying to get into your good graces. He’s just happier when everyone likes him. He’s hilarious and silly (definite family trait) and cracks me up every time I see him. He’s perpetually broke but he doesn’t stress it…obviously this could be a problem if it continues once he’s out of school and working full time but right now I envy his lack of stress over his financial situation. I definitely wasn’t like that at his age (but we’re very different people). He and my sister don’t enjoy fights and he may have broken up fights between Brother #1 and I a few times. I often commend him on his peacemaking skills because there’s something humbling about having your youngest sibling trying to make you see the light in a fight.

He’s wise beyond his years. In our culture (Yoruba), when a child is born soon after their grandparent dies, they get a name that makes reference to them being the return of the grandparent. Brother #2 was born soon after our paternal grandfather passed away so his middle name reflects that tradition. My paternal grandfather was considered a wise man and my brother’s approach to some things often displays wisdom beyond his years…except when it’s related to girls! He and our grandfather actually have the same bleach-white birthmark so that’s another cool connection.

Whenever I tell Brother #2 about someone who’s accomplished something I want to do, he always reminds me to go at my own pace, that it’s not a race, and that I’ve prioritized things differently from them in some cases which is why I’m not where they are. He challenges me regularly to stay on track with goals I’ve set and he sends me resources to help me reach my goals. He’ll definitely get a shout-out when I finally reach my blogging goals.

I found out about a workshop on starting your own business that was taking place at the local library this past Monday and he was the only person I wanted to attend with, because I knew he would have invited me to it had he found it first. We had such a great time, giggling at inside jokes and looking at each other in understanding when the presenter made a particularly relevant point.

Before you think he’s the best thing ever and try to steal him away, I have to admit he can be very selfish and expect everyone to work around him or his schedule when it’s clearly unreasonable to do so. But again, we just smack him around a bit and he’s fine. Oh, and his breath is often not the freshest!

But I do love the sucker.

Filed under: Family, Goals by jummy | 32912 Comments »http%3A%2F%2Fooof.ca%2Fblog%2F2012%2F02%2F16%2Fsibling-love%2FSibling+love2012-02-16+12%3A00%3A19jummyhttp%3A%2F%2Fooof.ca%2Fblog%2F%3Fp%3D3291

I’m less than six months away from my thirty-third birthday and I can already tell that 33 won’t just be another number. I still feel lucky each day that I wake up, but 33 is awfully close to 35, the age I have in my head when it’s ok to panic about the fate of my future progeny. I’m allowed to start actively worrying about the declining quality and quantity of my eggs at 33. At 33 I can begin the silent treatment against my future husband because his late arrival in my life will rob me of those blissful “married and kidless” years that I hoped to have. I’ve determined those years will play a factor in our ability to stay together when our kids abandon my husband and I to live their own lives. We won’t have those blissful years to look back on with fondness and I’m prematurely resentful of that.

Life would be simpler if I didn’t want children. I’d still be incredibly impatient and grumpy for having to wait this long to be with my life partner (while so many others got to meet their mates in their 20s or earlier), but there wouldn’t be the added sense of panic that thoughts of my biological clock brings.

Of course I can have healthy children past the age of 35, just like there could be complications if I was under the age of 30, but it’s all about the odds when you’re past 35. Icky, possibly less favourable odds. My mom gave birth to Brother #2, her fourth-born, at age 33. I just did the math right now and that makes me feel like booing and hissing even more.

But enough doom and gloom. Unfortunately nothing I can do will make things happen faster than they’re supposed to happen. I just hope they’re supposed to happen for me.

Filed under: Introspective by jummy | 327012 Comments »http%3A%2F%2Fooof.ca%2Fblog%2F2012%2F02%2F01%2Ftrente-trois%2FTrente-trois+looms2012-02-01+11%3A30%3A04jummyhttp%3A%2F%2Fooof.ca%2Fblog%2F%3Fp%3D3270