This is the first day of The Boy’s summer vacation,  so by all rights things should be hectic – no schedule, two kids instead of one, and so on but this has been a lovely morning so far.

Sure, the kids are entertaining themselves with a computer game, so that’s something, but my peaceful morning has little or nothing to do with that.  It has to do with the fact that I could pretty much set my own pace for the day, and I have gotten a ton of stuff done already and it’s only 9:15.

I am soooooo not a morning person, but one way for me to conquer that is to get up and get going, doing a bunch of mindless but necessary task before I get my breakfast and then sit down with a bagel and tea and do some reading or writing.

I can’t do that on school days, unless I get up at 6 and that’s not happening.  A school day schedule means either that the boys wake me at an ungodly hour in a  bad mood, or that we all get up an hour or so before we leave for school,  we get breakfast, get ourselves dressed,  get teeth brushed, hustle and bustle our way to walk to school (or drive if it is really raining out) and then me and TLG come back to the house by 9.  By 9 I’m fully awake, and it’s too late for the mindless housekeeping/organizing tasks but they need to be done anyway so I’m puttering through them, feeling like I should be playing with TLG and he interrupts the flow of my tasks constantly so they take way longer than they should.  And then I settle into playing with him but he is usually desperate to play a video game by that point and then blah de blah it’s time to make lunch,  after lunch it is only an hour and a half before it’s time to pick up the boy, and so on and so on (no need to bore you with all of the details – too late!).  My day is all chopped up into bits by the school schedule and The Man’s lunch schedule, and homework and it’s so far from the natural work rhythm of my brain that I feel like I am swimming upstream all the time (and unlike the proverbial salmon, I don’t get a reward for my efforts).

But in summer I can move closer to my own rhythm, finding ways to entertain the boys first thing in the morning so I can get the shitwork out of the way and then match our activities to my brain.  It doesn’t ALWAYS  work, but it works often enough for me.

When I started this blog I called myself the mombie because I was seriously sleep-deprived (as in less than two hours sleep at a time for YEARS). Obviously things have changed since then, and both of the kids sleep much better now (upwards of 10 hours most nights – I never thought the day would come) and I sometimes feel like my blog title is no longer as dead-on as it once was.*

Today, however, I am totally a Mombie.

I haven’t been sleeping well for the last week or so. No big worries, nothing weighing me down, plenty of time to sleep, but I’m just getting poor quality sleep all around.**

I know this will pass, but in the mean time I am driving myself batty.

For example, today I sent out invites to my annual Canada Day party. Correction: I created a facebook event for my party, and somehow managed to not invite anyone. I only discovered that when I asked The Man to log on to facebook and accept the invite so I wouldn’t be the only one attending (I hate that!) and he started to laugh because he hadn’t been invited to a party at his own house. Mistake the first.

I didn’t find out about my second mistake until I went to pick up The Boy from school and my friend G asked me how my party was going.

Turns out I facebook-scheduled the party for today instead of Canada Day and when she accepted the invite, her phone sent her a reminder that she should be on the way to the party – TODAY.

Luckily I am a writer and not a surgeon (I just typed sturgeon – ack!), or things would be going seriously wrong right now. 🙂

*For the record, my online ID varies between Ms. Strident, Smartmouth Mombie, Mombie, and my latest: isekhmet – they all fit for different reasons and different contexts.
**I had dream the other night about vampires who could only attack in dance formation, luckily I was dealing with the ones doing the hustle and I only had to dust them one at a time – I may be watching too much Buffy lately.

So I was going to a physiotherapist in late 2007 because my back was messed up and he was very research-y, had a lot of papers published and the like, so he had a much more extensive questionnaire than other providers of that sort seem to.  Once he looked at my answers he mentioned something about me being uncoordinated.

Now, I would never have described myself that way.  I think of uncoordinated people as tripping all the time, or unable to dance or what have you.  I walk and dance and so on just fine but I have a hard time learning new physical things, it takes me a long time to form a body memory, and I have trouble organizing my movements with someone else)*.  I thought these things were problems but not ones of coordination.

I usually get my sister Neece to walk through things with me because she has a way of getting these sort of things through to me that other people can’t (I always feel bad for my teacher and worry that they are going to see my inability to learn as a problem with their teaching) and she helps me make the movement make sense.  When I talked to her about the oddness of being called uncoordinated, she, with her usual directness, said ‘Chris, not being able to make your body do what your brain understands IS being uncoordinated.’ 

Another Neece lightbulb went on in my brain (she often lights them for me) and I let myself off the hook for not being able to get these things quickly.  That doesn’t mean I stopped trying or just said ‘Oh well, uncoordinated!’ (totally not my style) but I stopped feeling so frustrated.

Fast forward to May/June of this year.

I’ve been using the WiiFit a lot, especially the balance games because I am so bad at them.  After 147 tries (I kid you not, I am a persistent dame) I finally manage to get a decent score in the soccer game where you have to head the balls while avoiding soccer cleats and panda heads (!) that also fly at you. 

That’s when the pattern emerges, the picture comes into focus, the ideas crystalize:

I am uncoordinated, and I have a slow reaction time but I CAN WORK ON THESE THINGS.  I can teach myself to be more coordinated, and I can improve my reaction time with PRACTICE. (odd how I have to learn the practice lesson over and over, but there you go)

It’s not that I am bad at sports and learning physical activities, per se, it’s that I don’t have the full set of basic skills to do them yet.  I can do some parts intuitively, but without the basic practice I won’t be able to move ahead.  It’s like I have  been trying to learn to eat with a fork but I can’t make a fist, nor make a pincher grip, so I grab the fork between the palms of both hands and make do with that method – I get some food, but not as effectively as I could if I was able to do the other movements, and I frustrate myself and people trying to explain forks to me.  Okay, so I’m not all that bad, but it’s the closest analogy I could think of at the moment.

So, I need to rewrite my mindset and my brain yet again.  I am not ‘bad at sports’, I need to practice my coordination and my reaction time.

I wish things like this had been dealt with in gym classes when I was a kid, but it seemed like we focused on sports and the kids who had natural inclinations left the rest of us in the dust. 

So one of my summer projects is to increase my coordination and reduce my response time, and my lucky sons are getting dragged into it with me.  Bring on the obstacle courses!

*Obviously, not the case in ALL circumstances. 😉

Have you ever heard of Muscle Man?  What? You haven’t?  Do you live under a rock?

I kid, of course. Muscle Man* is TLG’s fictional superhero.  We’ve been hearing about him for at least a year now.  Not only is he  huge, red and strong (he can lift TWO houses!) but he can do whatever he likes, and he has access to everything TLG can imagine.  As a result, we have a lot of conversations like this:

Mombie: “I’m sorry, darling, but there’s no such thing as the Playstation 52.  They are only up to Playstation 3.”

TLG: “Well, MUSCLE MAN, has a Playstation 52!  And he has all the games for it, too!  And if we go to his house we will be able to play them all and I will win!”

It’s amazing really, Muscle Man can do EVERYTHING, absolutely everything.  And he’s not limited by finances, time or even the laws of physics.  The added bonus is that he ensures that TLG is never wrong.

The Boy: “No, TLG, that’s not how you do it.  You have to jump over the crack.”

TLG: “The Boyyyy, that’s how (insert condescension here) Muscle Man does it.  In Muscle Man’s world, that’s how you do it.”

The Boy: “(loud sigh) FINE, TLG, but we don’t live in Muscle Man’s world.”

I’m sure this is extremely appealing to a four year old who is probably tired of being taught things all the time.  It must be nice to be so very solidly right.

So, I’m thinking of adopting this sort of approach to conversation, just for my own amusement.  I just have to think of a situation that makes my every statement true.  Maybe I can invoke Wonder Woman instead.

*FYI – Muscle Man lives in Toronto.  But not the CITY Toronto, his Toronto is called Muscle Man’s Toronto, but he visits the City of Toronto sometimes.  I have now typed Toronto so often that it has lost all meaning.