Is Rey As Boring As Me?

Reason #31 I am boring…

Halloween 2016 Rey

Feast your eyes on this masterpiece. I dressed up as Rey from Star Wars: The Force Awakens for Halloween last year. I fabricated most of what you see in the picture. I will say I was pretty proud of myself when it all came together! As I walked around my neighborhood with my grandbabies trick-or-treating, every kid who saw me yelled “Rey” or “May the force be with you”. It was super satisfying to have done a good enough job to be recognizable.

In my home we spent a lot of years not celebrating Halloween, but that’s a story for another time. I have come to a place where celebrating and dressing up is simply done in fun and is not hurting anyone; therefore, I have fully embraced it. This is the second year I went full tilt with a costume, and it earned me a 2nd win at our Halloween party for best costume.

Pretty boring huh?!

We plan to have a party again this year and I am already trying to decide on a costume. Perhaps I can be a little less boring this next October. 😉

 

Lazy – Reason #1- to Being Boring

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I found this sign in St. Thomas at Senor Frogs. It is one of my favorite finds from my cruise last February. I think the grammar is weird, but I am willing to forgive that because of the humor and truth this sign exudes.

What is lazy? Oxford says it is an unwillingness to work or use energy. I tend to consider myself lazy, which is another one of the reasons I am boring. Maybe it’s because I have interpreted things others have said about me to mean such, or maybe it is just because I am.

I don’t know.

Where is the line? Who decides?

The house is clean. The dishes get done. Eventually the clothes get folded.

My laziness seems to pop up when it comes to extra stuff… this blog, random projects, going to the gym, etc.. I just don’t have the motivation, when I am home, to do anything other than the necessary.

I can go on vacation, and I want to do all the things. I will walk all over the place, shop ’till I drop, swim, work out, and play from sun-up to well past sun-down. But once I am back at home, forget it. I am right back to being lazy old me.

I know , I can just hear you now, “Make a to-do list. Prioritize your schedule. Take Vitamin D. Just get up off your butt.” There are probably a million other pieces of advice, and hey, go ahead, give it your best shot. I’m pretty sure I have tried it all.

The reality is, I will do the stuff when I am ready to or when it becomes necessary. That is just me. So I guess Oxford is right, lazy is about unwillingness. I do not possess the will until I have to, and that is just going to have to be okay for now.

Thanks for helping me work that out.

Now I can go think of some more things that make me boring…or maybe I’ll just do that later.

 

 

The Early Bird Can Have the Worms for All I Care

I am a night owl. I enjoy staying up late and then sleeping until I feel like getting out of bed even if that is late morning. I was designed that way. I am not broken. I am not irresponsible. If something calls for my having to be up early, then I adjust accordingly.

I do not normally give this much thought, except when others bring it up or I run into a situation that does not appear to be a societal norm. This last weekend fell into the latter category.

My oldest, her husband, and their boys (Babyman [4] and Dr. Evil [almost 2]) came to stay at my house for a family event. This is a regular occurrence.

The grandboys do not like to sleep in, no matter what time they go to sleep at night. That reality means others do not get to sleep in either. I am not among them. I have very little problem rolling over and going back to sleep when I realize they are up before I want to be.

*Gasp*

Yeah, yeah I heard that.

Here is the thing, the house I live in, my daughter once lived in as well. This was once her home. In fact she met her husband while it was her home, and he has spent more than his fair share of time here. They are at home here. They do not need me to host them.

We seem to, as a society expect the “woman of the house” to always be playing the consummate hostess, no matter the guest. You know what I thing about that?

Forget that noise.

My kids are grown. They know how to take care of themselves. They know where I keep the bagels and the coffee. They know how to work the TV and most anything else they could need. Why do they need me to get my grumpy butt out of bed to take care of them?

They don’t.

So you know what? When the guilt of my defying the societal norm of being the perfect hostess/mother/grandmother comes to taunt me in the early hours of the morning, backed by the voices of my grandboys, I am simply going to pull my eye-mask back down over my eyes, my covers over my head, and nuzzle my pillow until I am fast asleep, guilt free, because I will not be limited to some silly rule that was made up by some judgmental early bird who apparently likes worms.

PS. This is why I am boring reason #8.

 

Reasons I Am Boring

I am boring…

I’ve been thinking about why writing this blog is so difficult for me, and I have decided it’s because I am boring. No one wants to read anything I (Nonie) want to talk about.

It is not a mystery to me that I have a rough time believing in myself. I often tell those around me that I am boring, irrelevant, and invisible.

They* want to punch me in the head for saying so. They vehemently disagree with my assessment of myself. They think I should take a better look at me.

Here is the problem; for every argument they make Continue reading