The Point(s) of Exercising

The company I work for incentivizes healthy lifestyle habits. We earn points for exercising, getting flu shots, and participating in annual health assessments. It's all voluntary. We can participate in all activites, some activities, or no activities at all. 

We can redeem points for monetary rewards like gift cards, Fitbits, and bike accessories. Each point is worth a penny.

We can also earn points for walking which is why I downloaded a pedometer app to my phone last May. I've been obsessing over my steps ever since. I get one point for every 1000 steps I take in a day. 2000 steps equals one mile. So, it works out to getting paid 2 cents per mile.

What? You say you wouldn't waste energy to bend over and pick up one penny much less walk a mile for two pennies? Sure, sure. But I've learned that I walk half a mile a day just doing stuff around the house. On laundry day traipsing back and forth repeatedly, a full mile is normal without even trying.

With this year's points, I was able to buy each of The Boys a $100 Amazon gift card for Christmas with points leftover to get myself something pretty.

So, the effort pays off $eriou$ly well.

Every day at midnight, the counter on my pedometer app resets to zero. 

The Husband has gotten used to me taking laps around the livingroom late at night to snag the last few steps to round out a thousand mark. One night I went to bed with 4984 steps and lamented all the next day that I'd been just 16 lousy steps from an extra point.

The other day, The Husband and I went for a walk. A block or two into our stroll, he asked which route I wanted to take. The short one, I told him.

"Are you sure? The weather's nice and the sun is shining."

"Yeah, but I left my phone at home, and I'm not getting credit for my steps."

"But the exercise is still good for you."

"Pft! You think I do this for my health?"

Social Peace

Holy cow!

I asked a Facebook friend to reconsider the copy/pasted post she shared.

The general intent of the post was good, but one sentence referenced "the media" negatively and, in my opinion,  unnecessarily. 

I gently explained to her that I'm a former member of the media, and I have friends who are professional journalists who report the news responsibly. I went on to explain that criticism against "the media" as a whole throws good reporters under the bus.

I don't often stand up on Facebook.  My experience has rarely been positive when I engage in a conflict, so I just don't.

But here I went.

Sticking my nose out.

Mostly because I saw *this* earlier today:

I deleted my comment after about 15 minutes because I feared repercussions, not from her, but possibly from one of her less tolerant acquaintances. 

You know what she did?

She rewrote her post. She removed the part about the media and replaced it with a cited quote that added value to the post.

She responded with kindness.

And I couldn't be more grateful to this friend for understanding and responding in a gentle, respectful way.

It gives me hope for peace.

Second Christmas

Elder Son has been cleared to leave quarantine, so The Boys came over for dinner today. 

Except for when we were earing, we all wore masks and sat 6+ fert apart. They visited for two hours, and we send them both home with a couple dozen more decorated cookies.

And then it snowed.

A light fluffy layer of white covered the ground by the time they left.

It felt like a mini Christmas.

It was a beautiful way to wrap up our holiday weekend.

I'd been depressed over the this year's holiday prospects since mid-November. All I could think about was what we'd miss.

But here's what I'll remember:

- Walking around in the cold looking at the neighbor's Christmas lights with The Husband

- Packing up and dropping off a 2 pound care package of Christmas treats at each boy's apartment 

- Playing Wii video games with The Husband on Christmas Day (our right arms are sore from all the throwing games)

- Having "second Christmas" dinner with boys who had a month's worth of conversation to share

Feeling grateful.

So very grateful.

❤💚❤💚❤

Do Not Offend The King

I dreamed last night that I offended Stephen King.

As he walked away muttering to himself, I was quite sure a character in his next novel would share my name and suffer a gruesome demise.

Christmas Eve 2020

This year is all about making the best out of unusual circumstances. 

Normally on Christmas Eve, we collect the boys and drive around town looking at Christmas lights. We can't get together with boys this year, so I convinced The Husband to join me and a couple of tumblers of spiked cocoa for a late night stroll to look at lights around our block. It was fun and silly. It was so cold, and it snowed the hard tiny flakes that sting your face. We oo'd and ah'd and laughed. 

And at no point did we notice an absence of boys.

This was new. The boys weren't missing because this was something they'd never been a part of. 

Tomorrow, I think the two of us are going to play video games all day.

We haven't done that since we were dating.

This year is all about making the best out of unusual circumstances. 

Three Sleeps Till Christmas 2020

"Just wanna make sure that you seriously, honest and for true didn't get me anything for Christmas."

"I really didn't, and I feel bad."

"Don't feel bad, because I didn't get you anything either,  and I would feel even worse if you *had* gotten me something."

"This year is gonna suck."

"It really is, but we knew it would."

"Well, as long as we're in agreement,  then everything is okay."

"Yes, it is."

This is the conversation The Husband and I had earlier this evening while sitting in our livingroom that has a half decorated tree with a handful of small presents for the boys under it. Half the gifts are snacks and candy.

One of Elder Son's roommates tested positive for COVID, and we're not sure Elder Son will be cleared to come out of quarantine by Friday, Christmas Day.

Younger Son agrees with The Husband and me that we would feel odd getting together if Elder Son can't join us. We just would hate to do anything that might make him feel left out.

So. No one is coming home for Christmas this year.

The plan is to put together a care package of fun traditional family Christmas food and deliver it with presents on Christmas morning to each of the boys' doorstops

Then, The Husband and I will come home to our empty house with its half decorated tree, and that'll be it.

It's gonna suck. We've seen this coming, it's a surprise to no one.

But you know what, I'm gonna buck up and stomp down the threatening depression. 

Ready? Here's my best shot...

Elder Son is well despite his roommate testing positive. That's a giant bright side.

Though we lost Our Beloved Cat and will certainly feel his absence on a Christmas morning with no boys, no one in our families died this year. That's a giant bright side.

We have a warm house and food to eat. And we two incomes when lots of people don't have one this year. And that's a giant bright side.

So. 

If you want me to be happy this year, simply don't give me anything. I already have all the things I *really* wanted this year.

Left Turn Signal

As we followed the truck into town, I pointed to its blinking left turn signal. It had been on through a couple of intersections.

"I wonder how old that guy is," I remarked to The Husband. "He can't hear the clicking."

"Be nice," The Husband said. "I don't think my turn signals make any noise at all."

He turned down the radio and triggered his left turn signal.

It clicked very loudly.

We both burst out laughing.

"That is so funny on so many levels."

Holy Mackerel

In his last month or so, Our Beloved Cat stopped eating. We offered him everything: expensive cat food, veterinarian approved food, those stoopid lickable treat pouches. We even tried the really cheap cat foods that are the kitty equivalent of fast food. Nothing.

By dumb luck, we found he'd eat mackerel. Gross, smelly, slimey mackerel straight out of the can. The whole house would stink with it. But he'd eat it, so we were happy to put up with it.

For the first time since we lost Our Beloved Cat, The Husband cracked open a can of mackerel.

It might have smelled like stinky fish to anyone else. 

But to us, it smelled like happy memories of a really good boi. 💕🐈

I Dream of Kitty (with the light brown hair)

Last night I dreamed The Husband brought home three kittens from work. I picked up a kitten and told myself, "You are dreaming, so enjoy this as long as it lasts."

It felt so real. It was awesome.

The 7000

I'm trying not to let it bother me that during our virtual Christmas party this afternoon a co-worker casually mentioned how she works so much that she only gets in 7000 steps somedays. Meanwhile, 7000 is my daily goal that I almost never reach.

See, 7000 for her is a laughable fail.

7000 for me is a lofty goal. In fact, if I break 2000 steps, which equals about one mile, I'm pretty proud of myself.

I know I shouldn't compare my life to others'.

So. I'm trying not to feel bad about that.