Destressing. . .

I am presently destressing over a cup of coffee at my computer. That is what I am doing, and it is okay for me to be doing this because I have it on my schedule. I have spent the last two to three weeks revamping our family's schedule - or, well, maybe it is my schedule. . .

I like to use bits and pieces of wonderful organizing tips that I get from my family, my friends, and from flylady. I like the whole "Control Journal" idea that flylady has. And, I have a beautifully adorned notebook that I have kept for the past 2 years with the words, "My Control Journal" on the cover. Oh, how I love that sweet little book. The pages of this precious book house my weekly goals, my morning, afternoon, and evening routines, my weekly schedule of basic activities and goals for each day. Just flipping the plastic covered pages brings me some semblence of sanity. I love it. I love to read my goals each morning to keep myself focused and on the same page. My goals include everything from focusing on character issues with the boys to keeping my diaper bag cleaned out to smiling at my children. Wednesday at naptime is my time to declutter and destress. I decluttered earlier this morning, so I am destressing now! How wonderful!

Life has been the norm around here lately. I am behind in some areas and ahead in others. Isn't that how life goes. But, I feel more focused and purposeful than I have in a long time and that feels good. Blogging is one of the things that I am behind on, but I still haven't figured out how it fits into my schedule. Honestly, it doesn't. I am determined to record all our family's memories, etc., so I will have to figure out something. But, at present there is a sticky note in my control journal on the basic weekly schedule page that says, "Where does blogging fit in?"

Speaking of recording memories. . .

Today as I was placing my darling, innocent, littlest son in his carseat, my two older sons decided that it would be fun to relieve themselves in the two flower pots that flank our backdoor. Yes, and then they ran to me to tell me what they had done! I guess they thought I'd be proud? I walked back to the backdoor to assess the situation. And, yes, yes, there was a small puddle in each flower pot. If only I had turned around in time to catch a glimpse (a picture would have been even better) of their little bums exposed, each boy standing in front of a pot. Being a boy mom is certainly a growing experience. Whoa. I am learning new things each day. They never cease to surprise me with the things they think to do.

Okay, already, I am going to go and play a game with the little mister in a Peyton Manning jersey who has approached me 16 zillion times since I began this post. He has poked me, prodded me, balanced himself on my leg, positioned himself between me and the computer, crawled under the legs of my chair, begged me for candy, for a different CD to listen to, asked me to open a Nutri-grain bar, and presently he is laying across the kitchen counter with his face in his hands looking cute and pitiful. And, I am a sucker for him.