Tuesday, January 24, 2012

I Actually Think Mondays Are Fine

This morning, while Hank was in preschool, I was sitting on the couch in my sun room drinking coffee and watching Novak Djokovic in the Australian Open. Yes, I hear you saying, "Becky, you work too hard. You need to slow down and take some time for yourself. You can't do anything for your family if you don't take care of yourself first." I agree with you, I do. But all that tennis is not going to watch itself.

It was pouring rain. I had just spied Hank's fuzzy crocs lying outside by the trampoline, absorbing twenty times their weight in water. I thought about going to fetch them. Then I had some other idea--can't remember but it didn't involve going out in the rain so I pursued that train of thought.

The game company boys appeared one by one. I greeted them and they trouped downstairs to their basement lair.

Matt appeared and I made him an omelette. He took it downstairs.

It's just a blog about nothin'.

Then I cleaned the kitchen, all while squinting and peering across to the TV screen. Please someone get busy doing the academic work on the spectacle that is the male tennis player's body in current celebrity sports culture. The tension between their much-vaunted machismo and the dwelling upon their fragile, injury-prone physiques. Those accumulated minutes and even hours of extreme slow-motion close ups. I mean, I think we know what they all look like naked. Juan Martin del Potro, call me.

(OMG, I just looked him up and he's only 23. Sorry Juan, stay in school, sonny! But I also just learned that he is 6'6", holy cats. So many feelings!)

Then I did bring in Hank's crocs.

Then I laundered things, and folded the things, all while watching the playing of the tennis. Then my phone made its little twinkling noise and I saw this text from my mother, "ETA: 2:30, rain is terrible." I was like, "Huh?" Then I realized that despite knowing that my parents were passing through town and stopping by my house, despite having talked to them about it the night before and having reminded the kids about it, I managed to forget it entirely in the time it took to brew a pot of coffee.

Then Lleyton Hewitt managed to take Djokovic to a fourth set, and I was like, "Guys, I have to go get Hank." But Djokovic won just in time and I wheeled the minivan over there through the rain. Hank got into the car chattering to his teacher about his grandparents coming by. So he remembered.

Then, back at home, I hauled the vacuum cleaner up the stairs and hoovered around. Then I did the downstairs, while making Hank fully a dozen PB&J sandwiches. Laura came in complaining about my not having met her at the bus stop to drive her the fifty yards to our front door. I offered her a shot of Toughen-Up. It wasn't actually raining anymore, geez.

Then she brandished a speech she has written for an oratory contest. The mandated topic for everyone is How Optimism Helps Me Overcome Obstacles. Laura writing a speech about optimism is like hearing what a bird thinks about feathers. She read it to me in the kitchen. It had some good moments and was written in her natural voice. I was surprised, though, that among her anecdotes, she mentioned my treatment for breast cancer, and said that my hair fell out and that I "wore a wig for a few weeks." A few weeks! I wonder if that seven months seems like a few weeks to her.

Then Mom and Dad did appear, bringing a dining room chair of mine they'd fixed and a huge bag of broccoli from our friend's farm. They stayed for just a little while; I couldn't get them to spend the night, they wanted to get up to the mountains to pursue their own selfish desires. Plus they left with my boxed series of The Wire on DVD.

Oh! But they didn't leave without my extracting their promise to take the kids to North Carolina this weekend, while Matt and I stay home and pursue OUR selfish desires.

Then I ate some sardines and avocado, then parented a bit more, then I went and worked out with Pretty Neighbor, and then I came home and it was time for Taco Night. After the last of Matt's guys left, I opened the door to the basement stairs and hollered, "TACO TOWN!"

Then we ate a bunch of food and then Matt and I lovingly logged it in our calorie-counting website together. I mean, we're still fun, right?

Then Matt wrestled the kids and I lay down with Hank for a few minutes. Then I had a cup of coffee with a tablespoon of unsweetened cocoa powder in it.

That is literally just what I did today. It was very ordinary, so what better place to relive it than here in my blog? It comprises my world. It was also a good day. As my sister would say, I didn't even have to use my AK.

Hey, look up at the top of my page on the left. Beth made me a couple of facebook/twitter buttons. So you can click on the facebook one and "like" SubMat on facebook! I mean, if you like me like that. Then you will never, ever miss any news of the tennis-watching, sardine-eating variety.

You have my love,


Aimee said...

The tennis, it must be watched. Good thing you're covering it, because I'm certainly not going to. (Let's face it, no match will every live up to Sampras vs. Agassi at Wimbledon '93.)

Do you use MyFitnessPal, by any chance?

Elizabeth said...

I can't tell you how happy it makes me when your blog appears at the top of my blogroll, letting me know you have a new post. I actually diet and exercise vicariously through you.

delaine said...

Hey, I actually think an " ordinary " day is the best day . Remember how the tv show Seinfeld was mostly about nothing? And it lasted like forever! I believe everyday is a gift. Big days and little ones too. I love reading about your ordinary days. Maybe when we have the kids this coming weekend, you and Matt can get out and have an exciting evening. Going to the book store? Taco Town? Who knows. And we will want to have the deets about that freakish party.

Cassi Renee said...

Maybe an ordinary day, but I wanted to keep reading.

And Elizabeth, does that vicarious exercising and dieting work? Because I think I could totally get into that.

Becky said...

Just wanted to pop in and say, Matt's only comment upon reading this post was, "He's probably 6'6" in shoes. I'm 6'6" in shoes."

Amy said...

I'm quite relieved to know that I'm in such fine company in my rather remarkable ability to lose track of impending events -- being the selfsame ones that I've busily reminded everyone else about! Happens frighteningly often... even without 6'6" male physiques drawing my attention/focus.

Lisa Lilienthal said...

I think we need a new category of awards that goes to best blog post/follow-up commentary from readers commentary. Because every time I read your blog, I am delighted, and then delighted extra much by the comments. For example, your mom just said that you have to give us the deets on that freakish party. Delightful!

Lisa Lilienthal said...

And I didn't mean to say commentary twice. I'm jet- and Negroni-lagged.

Nina said...

Erghm, that's the mandatory speech title for everyone? Wow. (I'm British so there might be some cultural issues here, I know.) How did realism get so discredited?


Becky said...

Nina, yes, my first reaction was that the topic is rather dry. I'm sure it was decided by a committee somewhere. Love Ehrenreich's work, especially about her cancer treatment.

Lisa, I say that Negroni-lag has got to be the most delightful lag. I wish I were having one right now!

Kate said...

I was feeling the same way about myself today as I took the day off and did Zumba and then took an afternoon nap. Seriously, I need to stop doing so much!

Becky said...

Seriously Kate! You're only one woman!

Lawyer Mom said...

That 7 months feels like 7 days to Laura. Remember how big minutes used to be? And soon, it'll feel like 7 weeks to you. Vivid weeks, but still . . . weeks, long long ago. Pardon my Frost-y non sequitur, but you've many miles to go, and we're all glad for it.

gretchen said...

I would never have thought to eat sardines and avocado together, but damn girl, if that don't sound good!

Despite my better judgement, I stopped after the first paragraph of this and told Jimmy that the Australian Open was happening, and he'd been missing it. I'm afraid that Jude and my television viewing will have to be curtailed for the duration, because Jimmy is one nutty tennis watcher. How he was missing this, I don't know. I feel that I have done my wifely duties for some time to come by relaying this tennis information to him.

Your day made me happy.

Amy said...

We over here appreciate that you're giving the Australian Open the attention it deserves in the northern hemisphere. Keep it up! And yes, that sounds like a fine day to me!

Veronica said...

OMG, I had never seen that Taco Town ad; thanks for the link -- hilarious!