Monday, November 19, 2012

A Week of Rest

Over the past several days I took a break from the computer.  I didn't know that I needed to do this until I did it.  It's not unusual for me to check my email upwards of a dozen times daily -- and this is coming from a woman who doesn't own a smartphone.  Based on my email outbox, this semester alone I've sent over 600 emails to students and coworkers.  I've read even more.

So, when we reached Thanksgiving break, I temporarily unplugged.  It's been brilliant.

This is a week of rest for me, and I am thankful.

Even over the course of this past weekend, I've done so many things that I haven't had the time to do.  I've cleaned closets.  (You might groan, but a well-organized closet is therapy for me.)  I've raked leaves and helped to prepare the gardens for winter.  I've wiped down my marred and splattered kitchen cabinets with a damp cloth and diluted Murphy's Oil Soap, breathing in the smell of cleanliness.  I've played more than one round of Candy Land while lying on the family room floor with the kids.

Side note:  Am I the only person who fears that I'll be trapped in the one round in the history of Candy-Land-playing that never finishes?  What if the deck is shuffled in a manner that prevents anyone from ever winning?  What if I'm three squares from the Gingerbread House and I pick up the candy hearts card again?  What if I'm reduced to reminding a four-year-old that it's her turn in two-minute increments for the rest of my life?

Candy Land is the longest hour of the day.  Except for Chutes and Ladders hour.

I digress.

The beauty is that during a week of rest, you have time for digressions.

Unplugging for a long weekend disconnected me from the world "out there," but I'm feeling more connected to the world where I actually live, right down to my newly-washed cabinets.

I'm thankful.

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6 comments:

  1. Oh my friend, I feel your pain, though we've moved beyond Candyland and on to Monopoly. This game was not fun for me before, but now playing with Sophie, who must have had jumping beans magically implanted in her bottom while I was sleeping, it's pure torture. Congrats on all the other things you were able to get done and on the unplugging in general. I've backed away from the computer a lot recently, using it only when necessary. It feels good.

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  2. I'm not ready for Monolopy.

    As for unplugging, I'm glad that you've been able to do so, too.  You're so right: it feels good!

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  3. Unplugging is SO freeing! I don't know if I could do it for that long though unless I was in a log cabin or something. I'm impressed!

    We are not to the Candyland stage yet (thank goodness). When that hits are you still in the "press every button on every toy that makes a noise all day" stage? That's the one I need to see end but I have a feeling it won't be for a long time.

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  4. I don't think you ever leave the stage of "noisy," but yes, it seems like toys for little ones REALLY are all about noise.  "What does this do?"  "Well, it blinks and makes noise."  "Perfect for a one-year-old!"

    I remember wanting to stage an accident where I drove over my daughter's musical table in the driveway, if it makes you feel any better.

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  5. I really don't watch tv...but I need some unplugging! Darn Internet. I used to do it regularly...but haven't in a long time. It does feel so good. And it's amazing to realize that you didn't even really miss anything, even though you thought you might. And my closets really need reorganized. I think I'm going to mark my "unplugged" dates on the calendar so it acutally gets done!  
    And yes, I have felt that way with games too! We are on a Yahtzee phase which isn't too bad.

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  6. I can no longer play Candyland without breaking out into hives.  Instead we play Zingo! or Hiss.  I also refuse to play Clue with the older kids because this game can go on FOREVER.  
    (Also, I completely understand how organizing something is like therapy.  It feels like a hundred pounds got taken off your back.)

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