Feeling better and trying to get back to activity since my bones are on the mend. Notes I made, that at the time I thought were legible, look like chicken scratches across the page today. So much for all that frustration pushing me forward.
What I have accomplished is . . . not much. This summer was more vacation than I planned it to be. Those scratched plans mean my expectation for the year has to change.
So what is possible? That remains to be seen.
Something my youngest said to me, that I am not good at doing. What he meant (I was whinny and bemoaning the negatives at the moment he counseled me) was accept and work with the limitations currently confining me.
This is a forced vacation from my plans, so toss the plans and stop trying to force things to work out on a timetable that can’t be met. Sometimes work arounds to continue with plans are possible, sometimes they aren’t. My son reminded me that too much energy was wasted on the negative focus and not enough on the ways I could make this a positive.
The habit of doing too much has to end. That is my doing and choice. This summer has become an opportunity to do just that. Some days are easy, but there are those stinkers when its easier to revert to wimping out than to struggle. That was the day that my son caught and coached me.
It was a couple of days before my splint came off, before I could start using my fingers on the keyboards again, my patience was low that day and frustration was high. I wasn’t getting any work done to my satisfaction.
Time for a little vacation from frustration and pushing myself.
While my inspiration is slacking, I am working on becoming ambidextrous. Work on the little picture book is stagnating, again. The beginning of the story is causing me trouble. Learning how to draw with my lefthand is just as difficult as finishing the little picture book.
Next week I plan on just putting it together as is and letting some others look at it and give me feedback. Trying not push as well as trying do too much are my biggest stumbling blocks. Together the are the cause of my broken arm.
Patience is not my virtue, but sure needs to be.
One priority that hasn’t been difficult during bone mending is re-watching episodes of the Gilmore Girls. During the original series showing, my daughter and I rarely missed a show. Now with the revival shows coming up in November, we are each re-viewing the series with plans to watch the upcoming new shows together.
This memory of what was once our weekly tradition made me think of all the family traditions that are near and dear to my heart, but have long since gone to the wayside. Included in a list would it be bedtime stories, Saturday morning cartoons, and reading The Life and Times of Santa Claus at Christmas. Family traditions are important memories to make and have.
All those years ago, when we started making our family memories, I really didn’t think much about it. Our traditions evolved out of our interests and passions. I can remember trying to start traditions that didn’t take off, being disappointed and worried but I wasn’t doing enough for my children. Even to this day I’m not always aware of the traditions that stayed with my children as adults. I’m pleasantly reminded by them and my grandchildren.
As long as you are willing to repeat activities that bring family together or encourage interests you will find ones will stick. Family traditions are the warm fuzzies, the memories, that will looking back on as well as forward.