The Mystery of the Yoga Pants

I like to think that on those rare occasions I wear my workout pants in public, it just gives me an air of mystery.  Making people wonder...

You know, in that "Is she really on her way to/from the gym, or was she just too lazy to put on real clothes today?" sort of way.

I'll be honest with you.  The answer is probably the second guess.  But I am going to make every effort to put out a vibe that it's actually the first.  Especially if you see me at the grocery store or Target. (And if I haven't seen you in a while - that is going to be the day we run into each other: my "I'm in my yoga pants with minimal makeup on at Target" day. It's just a sure thing) And I hope you'll make every effort to pretend you actually believe I must be on my way to or from working out and just had to pop into the store to pick up some urgently needed item.

But whatever you do, please don't ask me about it.  (Oh, are you on your way to the gym?) Because that is going to force me to either
A) lie straight to your face
      -or-
B) confess my lackadaisical approach to dressing that day.  Out loud.  In public.

Either way - it's just not cool.  Just. Not. Cool. So don't ask.

I prefer to keep an air of mystery about the whole thing.  Super healthy, multitasker? Or comfortable in my laziness? Only me and my workout pants know for sure.

Ungrateful

I've got it pretty good.  We've got it pretty good.  And we don't even realize it.

This thought first started brewing as I stood in line to vote early in November.  The line was long for that last Saturday of early voting.  As I watched person after person get out of their car, check out the length of the wait, shake their head, and get back in the car.  Person after person grumble that they didn't have time to wait and get out of line to leave.

I began pondering what exactly this said about us as a nation.  There are people in the world who would give anything for the chance to vote.  People who walk miles and miles. People who stand in line for hours and hours and hours.  People who willingly risk their lives for the chance to vote.  Meanwhile, I watched literally dozens of people who couldn't be bothered to stand in line for one hour on a beautiful Saturday morning in order to exercise their right to vote.

Ungrateful.  Seeing as an inconvenience what others risk everything to grasp. 

Once the thought was there, I began to see examples of it everywhere.

My 14 years old son grumbles about having to go to school.  Meanwhile, a Pakistani girl his own age fights for her life after being shot in the head for simply wanting the same thing he complained about. 

I dread having to make a grocery list and do the shopping.  While so many in the world go hungry, wishing they were able to make a list and go to the store to purchase whatever they need or wanted to eat. 

How many other blessings do we fail to recognize?  Things we take for granted, which so many others in the world would view as a luxury.  Have we become so spoiled that we see things we should be grateful for as a bother?  

Let Me Out!

I haven't left the house since Monday. 

Wait... that's not entirely true.  I did have the female offspring drive me down to the auto repair shop to pick up the truck belonging to the Man of the House, and came right back.  That was... Tuesday?  Wednesday, maybe.  I can't remember.

Anyway.  That's not the point.  The point is that I am starting to feel a little stir crazy. 

I'm actually feeling excited about the idea of going to do the grocery shopping with the Man of the House this evening.  Not "we're going to Disney World" excited.  But excited enough. 

Searching For My Gold

Like much of the world population (or at least the U.S. population), I have spent hours and hours viewing the various Olympic events over the past week.  I'm starting to get a little bleary eyed and delirious from staying up far past my bedtime to see our gymnasts, swimmers, and runners.  And in that muddled brain state I begin having dreams of my own Olympic gold.

I'm not completely delusional yet.  I don't imagine myself biking cross country, or swimming a 400m IM, or doing a stunning balance beam routine and nailing the dismount in a way that sends the crowd to their feet.  Although that chick sitting in the front of the boat telling the rowers to "stroke"?  Yeh - I think I could master that.  Maybe.  I'm good at telling people what to do.  Just ask my kids.

But after careful consideration of my general lack of athleticism, I have come up with my own  "Olympics - Home Edition".

That's right.  Olympics for the home maker.  Events in cooking, cleaning, general home and family management.  Medals for the every day heroes of family life.

I may be a medal contender in dishes.  Empty dishwasher, rinse dishes, load dishwasher.  I've got that routine down cold.  Gold might be a stretch, but silver is certainly within my reach.  Not today.  If the event were held today - I'd be lucky to squeeze by with a bronze.

I probably wouldn't even get past the quarter finals in laundry.  I'd take a terrible tumble off the pile of Mt. WashingToDo causing huge deductions.  An epic fail of  Feck proportions.  No coming back from that sort of disaster. 

And I am refusing to contend in Ironing at all.  I just can't see any good reason to do that to myself.  That would be like a runner trying to race in the pool.  Completely out of my element.

I would , of course, dominate in Clothesline Drying.  Watch me folks.  I would dazzle the judges and the crowds with my hanging skills and the speed with which I can remove the dry clothing from the line!

I'm already dreaming up other events and imagining myself up on the podium waving and smiling at my cheering, adoring family.  

Bathroom cleaning - GOLD!


Meal planning and cooking dinner - GOLD!

Grocery shopping and couponing - GOLD!

Vacuuming. Dusting. Sweeping and Mopping. GOLD, GOLD, GOLD!  Oh, who am I kidding... probably Silver at best.

What event in the Olympics: Home Edition would win you a medal?