1% infinity

It’s been almost two years since I’ve publicly posted on this blog. I’ve thought about it from time to time, but life happens, you know? Also, my husband got super into his own blog, which kind of minimized my desire to try to keep up. He was sharing a lot of the same family stories and anecdotes I would have, and doing it far more eloquently, so inspiration waned.

We’re about to start a new school year—he’ll be off performing with the orchestras and our family and friends are returning to schools and normal routines again. I don’t exactly feel as if I’m joining them—the first day of school, complain as I did about it, was one of the best days of the year. New notebooks and pencils, a fresh plan book, new textbooks to crack open and explore, and the promise of “normalcy.” For somebody who loves knowing what’s coming down the pike, there are few things better than the hearkening of a new school year.

But now I have no school to attend. My little ones (yes, there are two now) are too small to attend, and too small for me to have many other ventures besides caring for their basic needs. It’s a season, of course, and a most precious one at that, but I’m fighting a little bit of cabinfeverphobia (#hashtaginthemaking). It’s August 24 but I’m already fearing the onset of the cold and being stuck inside and few grownups to connect with about things other than our preschoolers.

I’m also realizing that I need to find new things to explore and with which to create. I can’t practice piano and flute the same way I used to. I don’t have time and it’s usually too loud for sleeping babies. I still play when I can, and am an active musician, but I don’t have the luxury of really enjoying practicing anymore. It used to be a way to commit my physical, emotional, and spiritual being into one very focused activity, and it was immensely satisfying. So what now?

The past year has found me experimenting in the kitchen more and more. I’m loving trying new things, and am growing increasingly dissatisfied with eating the same old tastes. (Except pizza. I’m always down for pizza.) And the challenge and science of baking is fascinating to me. So I’m reading food blogs while I nurse Owen, I’m dreaming up excuses to try a new recipe, and I’m on the lookout for new ingredients I’ve never used before.

I’m trying very hard to become a runner, like my esteemed husband. He is blessed with some kind of Idon’tgetit ability to just drop everything and run 4 miles. And ENJOY it. I have to have a literal carrot Frisbee dangling in front of me to run without being keenly aware of it. But I know that I’m a different animal after I exercise. I’m a nicer person. I’m nicer to others and I’m nicer to myself. And what’s cheaper than running? So I’m trying again. And my ankles hurt. And my hips hurt. But I can run between 2-3 miles without dying, which is cool I guess. I’m experimenting with different strategies to not think about how awful it can be. Podcasts and going with the boys in a jogging stroller help. And when I’m done I feel awesome.

I fear failure and I fear not being able to succeed at something immediately. (Which I equate with failure…) So, my adopted principal for the rest of the calendar year is that of “one percent infinity.” I might not be able to make Beef Wellington tonight at the drop of a hat, or run a 10K, or practice an instrument for more than twenty minutes at a time, but I can improve something, each day, by 1%. And those 1%s add up to a lot of %s.

So, here’s my secret return to blogging world. I have no idea if this will be a single post or the start of something new, but I’m not going to sweat it. (She said to herself with a laugh.)

*Today’s 1%: I made pancakes this morning and had more success doing a quick, controlled flip of each pancake. This is a technique that I’m embarrassingly bad at. Thankfully they taste OK, but it’d be nice if they were pretty pancakes too. The secret for today’s improvement was to commit and do it fast.