I knew I would have a hard transition into motherhood.  Even before Abby came, I struggled to feel like I was getting around to everything that was important: keeping the house clean and organized, investing in friendships, teaching with thoughtfulness and excellence, volunteering, blogging, reading, decorating, cooking, etc…etc…etc.  Even on a normal day, my “to-do” list was daunting, and if you caught me on a day after I had just read my Better Homes and Gardens or a blog at Simple Mom…look out!  I was going to do all of the above, plus maintain an organic garden, can my own peaches, and knit sweaters for every gift-giving occasion.

Since Abby has been born, I have been thankful that I still feel like “myself,” and that all of my pre-baby interests and activities haven’t been sucked into the the diaper pail.  However, that also means that I’m still trying to do everything AND take care of a newborn on top of it all.  Occasionally, I feel like I pull it off.  But usually, I end the day frantically trying to scratch a few more tasks off of my to-do list, and fall asleep adding items to the agenda for tomorrow.  I’m self-aware enough to have noticed that this was not a sustainable pattern…

…but when getting out the door to attend a Christmas party last week drove me to desperate, frustrated tears, I had to admit to myself that I had hit a breaking point.

The next day, when I could think clearly about the whole episode, I concluded that I was just trying to do too much.  I tried to think of what I could put on the back burner that would allow me to focus my energy on fewer tasks, and give me some room to breathe.  But what would I give up?  Keeping the house clean?  Getting dinner on the table?  Reading?  Getting papers graded on time?  The problem is, the things that are (technically) non-essential are the ones that keep me feeling sane.  I could stop keeping the floor swept, but it would bother me every time I walked on it.  I could make us frozen pizzas for dinner every night, but then we’d get fat and I’d have to add exercise to my list of things to feel bad about neglecting.  Blogging, reading, scrapbooking are fun hobbies, but taking them off the table wouldn’t clear that much time daily, and I’d miss them the most.

So I’ve given up on the idea of simplifying.  Now, in classic Lindsey problem-solving mode, I’m looking for the answers in organization and scheduling.  What will my final solution look like?  I don’t know yet.  But I have two weeks off of work, two weeks for Stephen to be home with me, two weeks to make a game plan for the spring semester.  I’m planning to have a new schedule mapped out just in time for January 1, the most optimistic holiday of the year.  I’ll keep you posted.  (And if you super-productive multitaskers out there have some ideas, pass them along!)

I was hungry when I got home today (imagine!), so I treated myself to a bowl of Reese’s Puffs.  As I was eating, I read the back of the cereal box, which contained this interesting checklist:  18 Things to Do Before You Turn 18.  Here’s the list, along with how I measured up (or…didn’t):

1.  Ride the world’s biggest rollercoaster.  Unless it happens to have been the Texas Giant, nope.

2.  Bungee jump! No.

3.  Score the winning goal/basket.  Not even close. My only claim to fame is that I made the first basket in CTCS women’s b-ball history.  Unfortunately, it was the only basket I made all season.

4.  Win an award, trophy or prize.  Do academic awards and participation trophies count?

5.  Learn an instrument.  Too bad it didn’t say “quit an instrument.”

6.  Go backstage at a gig.  I’ve been backstage to see Point of Grace and Twila Paris.  While these were certainly momentous events, it wasn’t like they were Hanson or anything.

7.  Meet your idol.  Haven’t even glimpsed a celebrity from a distance.

8.  Play a part in your favorite TV show. What teenagers get to do this?

9.  Meet someone with your own  name.  Just first name?  Okay, check.

10.  Make a discovery.  Pretty sure I haven’t, unless you count the fact that I was wearing cardigans before they were cool.

11.  Get away with the perfect practical joke. Aside from Abbey’s and my hilarious “Glen from Pizza Hut” prank call, I’m not much of a practical joker. I hate them, in fact.

12.  Own a pointless collection.  Okay, I definitely can check off this one.  I lovingly named and stored many useless objects (plastic tops, balls of clay, paper clip chains…)  in the 8th grade.

13.  Invent a word that makes it into the dictionary.  Nope.

14.  Conquer your biggest fear.  Nope.

15.  Raise money for charity.  Not really.

16.  Pass your driving test for the first time.  I did this, but is it really a great accomplishment?

17.  Complete a road trip from coast to coast.  Pretty sure when I was 17, my big road trip was driving by myself to visit friends in Galveston.

18.  Reach 18 years of age.  Yes!  On June 24, 2000, I had officially gone for 18 years without dying.

So, in my current tradition, I am completing another belated tag. This one is from Laura, a new friend of mine from church. Laura and I got to know each other in a book study group this past summer, and she has two really cute little girls and a cool husband who is helping Stephen out with the youth.

Here are the rules: 1. Link to the person who tagged you 2. Mention the rules on your blog 3. List 6 unspectacular quirks about yourself.  4.  Tag others.

I’ll try to be creative and think of things that you have never heard before!

#1- I have an unspectacular special gift: I am really good at picking out good avocados. I haven’t come home from the store with a bad one in my recent memory.

#2- I am definitely an unspectacular cook. I do cook relatively often, but I’m not a great cook. My best meals are made with very limited ingredients and idiot-proof recipes. My worst meals happen when I try to be creative or try new things.

#3- I’m an unspectacular dresser. As much as I like to watch What Not to Wear, my own clothing choices are very blah. I don’t really make much of an impression either way, good or bad. This is a result of two factors- my lack of confidence to take risks, and my lack of a budget to buy really nice pieces.

#4- I’m unspectacular at phone conversation. I don’t like it; I’d always rather e-mail. It makes it hard to keep up with my dearly beloved long-distance friends and family. That’s why I hope they just all read this blog. And I wish they’d all start blogs of their own, so we could always be up-to-date.

#5- I’m an unspectacular housekeeper. I’m actually quite sneaky here, because I’m good at keeping clutter picked up, for the most part, so my house usually looks clean. But don’t go over my bookshelves with a white-gloved hand! Don’t look underneath the couch! Don’t lick the floor! If it doesn’t look dirty, I’m good to go. The invisible world of germs and under-the-furniture dust bunnies is outside of my concern.

#6- I’m a very unspectacular singer. I love listening to music of all kinds, and I have been known to sing along very loudly, if I’m alone at home or in the car. But I think that my natural vocal range is less than an octave, and if I get outside of that range, it’s not pretty. At church I usually have to either mouth the words or change octaves many times within the song. Sometimes I just get tired of the whole effort and I don’t sing at all, which makes me look very unspiritual.

So there you go! I tag all of my unspectacular blogging friends.

Unspectacular #6-

1. Where is your cell phone? FILECABINET
2. Your significant other? HARDWORKING
3. Your hair? PONYTAIL
4. Your mother? SUPERWOMAN
5. Your father? WISE
6. Your favorite thing? HOME
7. Your dream last night? RECURRING
8 Your favorite drink? DRPEPPER
9. Your dream/goal? FAMILY
10. The room you’re in? TEACHERLOUNGE
11. Your hobby? READING
12. Your fear? FAILURE
13. What do you want to be in 6 years? SUPERWOMAN
14. What you’re not? MORNINGPERSON
15. Muffins? BAGELS
16. One of your wish list items? MACBOOK
17. Where you grew up? MAYBERRY
18. The last thing you did? TEACH
19. What are you wearing? FALCON T
20. Favorite gadget? REMOTE
21. Your pets? BIG-EARED
22. Your computer? PORTABLE
23. Your mood? FRIDAY
24. Missing someone? NO
25. Your car? THIRSTY
26. Something you’re not wearing? DRESSCLOTHES
27. Favorite store? BARNESANDNOBLE
28. Like someone? MOST
29. Your favorite color? BLUE
30. When is the last time you laughed? A.M.
31. Last time you cried? RECENTLY

10 years ago:

• I was in tenth grade. This means that I wore my hair a little frizzy, buttoned my polo shirts all the way up, carried an “I Love Lucy” daily planner, and had a crush on the boy who sat next to me in Spanish class. He was a very popular athletic type…I’m sure he secretly liked me, too.

Things on my to do list today:

• Make a dent in my hug pile of papers to grade. (Hence, the fun blog posted during school hours.)
• Finalize lesson plans for Friday. Start thinking about next week.
• Watch at least one more episode of LOST.
• Go out to eat with teacher friends.

What would I do if I was suddenly became a Billionaire?

• Bribe Steele to change the date of his wedding so that I could attend it AND my sister’s graduation.
• Buy a house.
• Put away tons of money for kids’ education and for my retirement.
• Leave big tips.
• Buy new clothes.
• Plan European vacation.
• Set up a huge endowment at my school, and other charitable contributions to church, literacy projects, and the March of Dimes.

Three of my bad habits:

1. Wasting time at work.
2. Imagining conspiracies against myself.
3. Being lazy.

Five jobs I have had:

1. teacher
2. camp counselor
3. cashier/hostess at steakhouse
4. cashier/stock girl at college bookstore
5. test proctor at a fire school (this one was by far the least work for the most money)

Five things people don’t know about me:

(I have tried this before and none of them were surprises after all, so I’m trying again…)

1. I once considered going to film school and becoming a screenwriter.
2. I try to read The Chosen once a year.
3. I hate birds.
4. George W. Bush said hello to me one time when I was visiting the Texas capitol building. (he addressed my whole group, to be fair)
5. I generally do not worry about germs, except when I am doing laundry.

I tag KarenD, Jill, and anyone else who thinks this is fun.

Sometimes I like to imagine that I actually have the soul of a brooding and cynical artist, and that I would be most at home smoking cigars in a shadowy salon, lamenting the state of the world, and pronouncing my embittered words with a slight French accent.

However, brooding and cynical people do not watch High School Musical and Hairspray in standard and/or extended versions, they do not buy OK! magazine, and they do not make resolutions for self-and-world-improvement every January 1. I have taken great pleasure in all of these activities in the past week, shattering my illusions of melancholy once and for all.

So here are my sunny and optimistic resolutions for 2008:

1. Cook at home more often.
Game Plan: I have compiled a list of my favorite easy meals. I will cycle through the list, except on the rare occasions when I feel like trying something new. I’ll grocery shop twice a week, getting groceries for meals no more than three days in advance.

2. Stick to an exercise plan.
Game Plan: Trying lots of different methods of exercise is so 2007. I will walk at least three times a week for muscle development and heart health. I have created a fun Power Playlist on my iPod to motivate me to walk by myself when necessary. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I will attend Pilates class for muscle toning and flexibility.

3. Keep up with grading.
Game Plan: Online gradebook must be up-to-date every Tuesday. This is Stephen’s night out, so I can devote as many hours as necessary to keeping this resolution.

4. Develop friendships with co-workers.
Game Plan: Initiate bonding activities outside of school.

5. Purchase good-fitting pair of jeans.
Game Plan: Go shopping regularly. Before outings, remind self that inner beauty is most important. Plan trip to Houston to try on jeans in new stores with fashion consultant Laurashmaura.

6. Be organized.
Game Plan: Never go to sleep with a messy house. Break habit of throwing once-worn clothes across chair in bedroom. Keep kitchen counter clear. Use calendar.

7. Keep resolutions.

While Stephen is back in school and while the primary benefits of my career remain “intangible” (as it was explained to me in my job interview), we’ve been trying especially hard to keep our frivolous spending to a minimum. I pared down pretty admirably, but ultimately I proved to be the weakest link.

I feel very vain and high-maintenance by admitting this, but this blog has functioned as a public confessional before, so I’ll go ahead and spill. As I have perused my credit card statement, looking for places to trim more for next month, there is one very obvious frivolity that I insist on overlooking: regular charges to Escape Nails Spa.

I try to justify this expense: I wait three weeks between visits instead of the recommended ten days. I take myself to the low-grade salon that only charges $15 a visit, subjecting myself to chatter in a language I don’t speak and the possibility of nail fungus every time. My current salon is running a 20% off sale until after Christmas. But the fact of the matter is that I can’t bear the thought of attending holiday parties and visiting family with my nubby, mangled fingers in their natural state, undisguised by the lovely smooth layer of acrylic and polish. It would be as bad as the classic dream of arriving to class in my underwear.

People have asked me why I don’t just stop biting my fingernails, as if it’s as simple as a matter of willpower. It’s as ludicrous as asking a compulsive gambler why he doesn’t just stop playing slots. Nail biting is a harder habit to stop than smoking, because there are no patches. I can’t even get rid of all temptation without cutting off my fingers all together, and that would be no good, for then how could I blog?

I can trace my nail biting goes back to a traumatic incident in my childhood–the time my parents made me stop sucking my thumb. Dr. Freud would say I must have experienced some trauma during my oral development phase to have such a strong fixation. (Think what you will about Freud, but this would explain my irrational attraction to the idea of smoking. Besides, Freud was a genius.) But unfortunately for this theory, my childhood was basically trauma-free.

I’ve tried bitter nail polishes, latex gloves, sheer willpower, self-bribery, band-aids, prayer, and basically every other home remedy I could get my hands on. Nothing works, except putting on fake nails. And that only lasts as long as the nails.

I don’t know what my long-term solution will be. For now, my compromise is to keep my nails through the holidays, which happens to be as long as the sale continues at my nail salon. In January I will let them go natural, and I will be hoping for lots of opportunities to wear mittens.

The Rules:
1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
2. Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog (about their 8 things) and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

Disclaimer: Thinking about this assignment made me realize I am not a woman of mystery. Most of these facts won’t come as a surprise to anyone.

1. In case you haven’t noticed, I am extremely paranoid. Last night we went to the movies and there were some noisy people sitting behind me. I got all freaked out thinking about how if they got really peeved at me, they could probably take a belt or a strong scarf and strangle me before anyone in the loud, dark, theater noticed. Needless to say, I did not turn around and shush them. (It didn’t help that we were watching Live Free or Die Hard, which was full of innovative killing techniques.) Speaking of movie theater paranoia, I also try never to lean back against the seat, out of fear of contracting lice. And I always worry that I’m going to sit on a needle that has been infected with HIV.

2. I hate birds. I do not find their chirping to be melodious or pleasant; Cinderella is totally misleading about nature.

3. One time my friend Abbey told me that the last drink out of a can or bottle is backwash. So I never drink anything down to the bottom. Usually I leave about four drinks, just to be sure.

4. I love to wear bangs because they help to minimize my large head. However, I have trouble keeping them looking nice because I have a cowlick at either corner of my forehead along the hairline. Usually a straightening iron does the trick; if you see my bangs pinned back with bobby pins, you can be sure it’s a bad cowlick day.

5. I am fascinated with celebrities. I love to read People and trashy celeb gossip blogs. My favorite famous people are all the Friends, Colin Firth, and Hugh Grant. I love the Friends because their show is so funny. I love Colin because he is Mr. Darcy. I love Hugh for his booty.

6. I realized in our most recent move how important I am to myself. It is hard for me to get rid of anything that represents a significant amount of my time and/or effort, even if the end product is ugly and/or non-functioning. I forced myself to overcome this attachment by throwing away old school projects, ugly hand-painted pottery, and worksheets made for classes I will never teach again. There’s a fine line between sentimentality and narcissism.

7. Highlights of my year include: Start of school, end of school, Christmas, and the day I buy a calendar for the new year.

8. I read compulsively. I love books, magazines, mail, blogs, and articles of all kinds. Even cereal boxes and nutritional information on wrappers will suffice in a pinch. I have a very low tolerance for nonfiction, though. Unless it’s a really entertaining narrative, I usually can’t get past a few chapters in a story that I know is true. (This is how I can still enjoy magazines and blogs, even though most of those are true. They don’t require too long of an attention span. It’s also why I can read a million articles on Jennifer Aniston but would never read a biography of her. It would be too long, and it would be lame.)

If you have not done this yet, I tag you.

I’m not going to therapy because I want to believe that this happens to everyone. I had a bad self-esteem day. Actually, it was two days.

Day 1: It all began when I tried to put on my favorite pair of khakis, (the ones I bought last year because my old khakis were too small, the ones with the baggy fit) and they were so tight the pocket seams made big distinct rectangle shapes on my thighs. It continued when we went to my in-laws’ house and I weighed myself on their hospital scale. They have the brutal kind with the sliding weights, so there is no room for fudging about which tiny line the arrow is pointing to, and no excuses about alignment and scale differences. Anyway, the weight was my all-time high.

(I do realize that people who obsess about their weight are obnoxious to those well-adjusted people who have come to happy terms with their body image. But I have not been able to contain my neurosis, and I’ve asked around to selected diplomatic family members and friends if they can tell a difference. Everyone has diplomatically informed me that I am not visibly larger, except for my mom, who said she thought I looked more “healthy.” Whatever.)

Day 2: the scale incident had been enough to shock me into action. I bought Slim-Fast shakes at the grocery store and ordered a salad at Panera rather than my favorite potato soup. I was excited to be taking action, but still in a self-esteem slump. It didn’t help that all of my clothes had turned ugly in the closet while I slept, and that I happen to hate my new haircut. (The only redeeming factor was that my freshly cut bangs did sweep low enough to cover the new zit on my forehead–seriously, I couldn’t catch a break on this day.)

So anyway, I did the stupidest possible thing on a day like this- I went clothes shopping. I was with my mom and sister, who wanted to walk around the Marketplace. I happen to be on a long-time search for a cute white shirt, and so I tried on a few items.

Big mistake! Everyone knows that the Devil installs the lighting in dressing rooms, and that there is no worse image than your own body clad in underwear and socks in a full-length mirror. And of course, all the shirts I tried on made me look/feel dumpy.

The dressing-room employee makes his way down the row, checking up on all of us. A little chirpy wisp next door is disappointed that the size zeros hang a little loose on her. The employee knocks on my door and wants to know if I need anything in a different size.

I wish I could hand over my rear end and thighs. “Can you get me some of these in a Small? You should be able to find them somewhere around 2004.”

I have decided that I care too much about comments. I crave them, I check obsessively for them, and I choose topics that I hope will generate more of them.

Enough.

I am going to try an experiment to break my comment craze: I’m turning off that feature on the blog for the rest of the summer. I will continue to write, and I hope you will continue to read. If you really want to talk to me about something I’ve said, you can talk to me in person, send me an e-mail, or message me on Facebook.

What do you think of my bold move? Well…I guess I’ll never know.