Lunch Break Freewriting

When I’m working in the office, I find that I rarely take an honest-to-god lunch break. I’ll eat at my desk, I’ll take a few minutes to check my phone, but mostly I’ll work through my allotted 45 minutes. When I’m working from home, I’ll set a timer on my Apple Watch and do some tasks around the house to get away from my work — unload the dishwasher, put away some clutter, whatever other randomness catches my attention — then assemble my lunch before taking it back to my desk to eat while I work.

In the Before Times, I would occasionally walk next door to Starbucks over my lunch break and do some blogging on my phone and Bluetooth keyboard while enjoying a tasty beverage. Since the indoor passageway between my building and the adjoining one has been demolished, that’s not a routine that I’ll be reviving anytime soon, since it’s 25°F outside and I’m not down with bundling up just to go get a coffee.

The blogging part, though… that’s going to need to make a comeback.

I’ve been going to a therapist about twice a month for the past six or seven months, and I really wish I’d started therapy sooner. It’s a huge help to have someone listen to me talk about what’s been going on in my life, then bring my attention to aspects of my narrative that I wouldn’t have thought twice about. The whole experience reminds me of going out for coffee with my BFF back during college: we’d talk about our problems, talk around them, dive into what their causes might be, and brainstorm actionable solutions. Adding a licensed behavioral therapist into the mix gives that conversation more direction, as she can pick out key points and lend her expertise in helping me recognize certain behaviors and reactions in myself.

In between sessions, though… writing is a valuable tool for me to get my thoughts and emotions out of my head and into a space where I can see them, acknowledge them for what they are, recognize what they aren’t, and generally get myself into a healthier headspace.

Taking time to blog is a gift to myself… and my family. We all deserve the best version of me.

U Can’t Touch Ur Mom’s Music

Earlier this month, my son Connor (age 10) was telling me about a funny commercial he’d seen, where someone had cheesy Cheeto fingers and they kept saying, “You can’t touch this.” Even though I hadn’t actually seen the commercial, I knew exactly what he had to be talking about.

So, because I’m that mom, I searched YouTube for the official music video for MC Hammer’s U Can’t Touch This and made Connor watch it with me. He was actually tapping his foot for most of the song, and didn’t really get bored of it until right before the last verse (“OK, Mom, I get the idea…”). I even showed him the very beginning of Superfreak by Rick James, just to give him a taste of how sampling works, but he was pretty much over the riff by then.

As the icing on the Cake U Can’t Touch, Aaron found an Old Skool Hip Hop karaoke CD at Goodwill this weekend. Looking forward to embarrassing my son with that at some point in the future.

It’s Baxter!

Today was the day! We made an appointment at a local cat shelter to adopt a kitten, and we left with Baxter! (Although he was called Bradley at the time.)

Baxter was one of a group of 25 kittens that made a 13-hour trip from North Carolina to find new homes in Ohio. He’s been ear-tipped to show that he was neutered, and he was accidentally double-microchipped (once in Carolina and once in Toledo).

He’s also slightly cross-eyed, which made him seem kind of, well… derpy? But when Connor stooped down to pet him, and he basically tried climbing up into Connor’s lap, that kind of sealed the deal.

He’s spent the evening exploring the house and getting used to his new people, and we’ve spent the evening remembering what it’s like to have a kitten in the house, and a lovey lap kitty at that.