Theory of Relatively Boring

I love March Break. Not only does it often signal the beginning of spring and hopefully, spring weather, but it gives me a much needed respite from the dreariness of my activities.

It's funny how once you have kids, you start marking your time in a much different way. I honestly can't quite remember life before I had my brood. How scary is that?

I remember when I first had my eldest son, J. He was a colicky baby, although at the time, I thought all babies were like that, despite what their mothers were telling me. (I was a bit psychotic at the time. In retrospect, I realise that I suffered from postpartum depression on a much more serious level than I had thought at the time). In any event, because J's feet never touched the ground for the first six months of his life, I consequently would count down each minute of my day until his scheduled sleeping times. Within moments of waking up in the morning, the mantra would begin -- "only three more hours until he goes down for his morning nap" -- and it would go from there. I literally marked my day by morning and afternoon naptimes and the evening bedtime. Everything else in between was pretty much a blur.

As my kids got older, I started counting days in terms of accomplishments. Summer would come when my daughter was ready to walk, or winter would be over when my youngest son was ready to start eating solids, etc. I'm amazed that people managed to put up with me. What vomitous company I must have been!

Not, of course, that I'm much better company now, since clearly, I mark my time through breaks in routine. Christmas and summer holidays, March Break, Easter (damn the school board for combining those two this year), etc.

Soon, I'll be looking at when my kids graduate from university (i.e. when I might expect to be debt free) or when they will get married and have their own kids. And then of course, I can begin the whole process over again, only this time from the comforts of the nursing home, at which point hopefully I will still be in possession of my mental faculties.

Such is my life ...