I’m very good at spontaneous. The on-the-fly, chaos-scrambling, ninja-karate-chopping-away-the-fat-and-focusing-on-the-meat-and-potatoes kind of thing is my jam. Dave reminded me of this skill, and he’s right. Whether it’s whipping up a homecooked meal from a blank canvas in the time of a sitcom or writing a blog post out of thin air, I can pull something together and say, “Good enough.”
But here’s the thing: the stuff that really matters to me isn’t spontaneous. It’s the slow, daily work. The painful-show-up-every-day kind of things—building cardiovascular capacity, growing my understanding of differing values and beliefs, finding a deeper sense of security in myself. I’m in the older, wiser, “taking-up-a-roost” chapter of life, and that’s how I see it anyway.
Parenting is both the hardest and simplest thing I’ve ever done. Such a mind-bender. The moment you think you’ve got it figured out, you don’t. And the moment you think you don’t, you suddenly do. Then your kid gets the thing they didn’t before, and just like that, you’re in a whole new realm. Honestly, maybe that’s just life in general—the bars keep twisting, turning, and shifting to an entirely new playing field.
I once heard life is like going in circles, but slightly uphill. You end up back where you were, but with a different view. I can get on board with that.
On a lighter note: I’m in love with my hair right now. Two inches below my chin, thick with a slight wave, tucking just so behind my ears. Sleek and stylish without the hassle of blow-dryers and product. Honestly, when was the last time I blow-dried my hair? Maybe once or twice after a cut earlier this year. Normally, I can’t stand the loudness in my ear.
And irons? Not the curling kind, but for the clothes. Don’t get me started. I haven’t owned one in twenty years. Do people still iron? Why? Haven’t they discovered that a dryer handles most wrinkles, or that wrinkle-free clothes exist, or that some jobs just don’t care? And those ironing boards—space hogs.
What I really need right now is a funny book. Something lighthearted, a belly-buster. Today’s been turned up a notch too serious, and I’m prescribing myself an evening reminder that life doesn’t have to be.
Better quit staring off, waiting for inspiration to strike—that ship has sailed.
Take care.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 