I don't think I'm going to make it to the gym this morning. And this time it's not my fault.
I'm normally up at 5 to go to the gym so I have time to come home and shower, eat breakfast, and change before work at 8. (I don't shower at the gym out of principle. 5 am is too early to see old racquetball-playing guys naked. Come to think of it, there's never a good time to see old racquetball-playing guys naked.)
This schedule can vary depending on 2 major factors: what time I actually get up, and the sleep patterns of three people much shorter than myself.
Since 5:30, my 2-year-old has been out of her room 7 times. It is now 6:08. I was all ready to go, then I guess she heard the floor creaking or my keys jangling, because out of her room she came. And she doesn't come out of her room quietly. She wrestles with the doorknob just at the edge of her reach, turns it, opens the door, then snaps the knob loose. I'm a little surprised we're the only 2 awake.
I leaned several years ago that if I don't make it to the gym before the kids are up, the idea is pretty much shot for the day. And this was going to be a good day. Not because of what I had planned to do, but I have the energy to do a lot. Run 10 miles? Can do. Throw around more weight than Conan the Barbarian? I'm there. Heck, I may even show that rowing machine who's boss.
I had my plans. Those plans don't matter too much to her right now.
There's a great line in church culture: Want to make God laugh? Tell Him your plans. It's the listening to God's plans that is the hard part. Like this stubborn little girl, we keep waiting for God to stop interrupting so we can get on with whatever it was. But the interrupting takes us where He wants us to be, usually waaaaaay outside a self-constructed comfort zone.
It's difficult to see God's big picture. It's difficult to see a 2-year-old's big picture. I'm pretty sure it revolves around Dora the Explorer.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
There are certain skills that all guys should know for various reasons. These are skills that, should technology or the normal way of doing things fail at some point in time, you can rely on these skills. I don't have all of them, but I'm working on it slowly. Here's a brief list--oddly, in alphabetical order:
Building. Legos, picnic table, whatever needs to be built around the house, with or without instructions. And if need be, step in and help a professional build a house.
Cooking. More than Mac & Cheese or a microwave burrito. Actually make a meal from scratch. This is useful for two functions: feeding yourself and impressing girls.
Fishing. My grandpa used to take me fishing as a kid quite a bit. I have no memory of ever catching anything. Fishing is one of the few hobbies you can talk about in public and have everyone listen. Because fishermen tell the best stories.
History. Know when wars happened. Know who was president (or king) during those wars. Know who made significant contributions to science and technology. This isn't just about not embarrassing yourself on Jeopardy!, it's about being smarter than the normal goofball on the street.
Listening. Seriously. Listen to others' ideas. And shut up when you do it. Handy for impressing girls.
Math. Balance your own stinking checkbook.
Music. Play at least one instrument that isn't the drums. And learn how to play it quietly as well as forcefully.
Vocabulary. Know the difference between affect and effect. Know several different words for "said." Be able to figure out a word's meanings based on its parts.
Writing. Not just a journal, a blog, or various text messages in the newest forms of abbreviations. This is how future employers will first encounter you. This is how you will explain yourself in a police report. There's a lot at stake in putting words on paper. Or on a screen. You don't want stupid fifth-grade errors in spelling, punctuation, and grammar making you look like a rube. On the other hand, know when to break the rules.
What else would you add?
Growing/shooting/cleaning your own food?