To sleep or not to sleep...

That is the question.
Whether 'tis funner* for the mind to endure
The witty banter of Netflix
Or to take solace in the slumberings
[...]
Of sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub...

But I digress.

(*Funner is not a word. Don't try and use it in a sentence. But Shakespeare tweaked words and outright made them up, so creative license is taken.)

It's been one month and my resolution is, like any resolution, a work in progress.

Week one: Smashing success! Until the weekend. When we had friends from out of town.

Week two: Mostly smashing success! Until the weekend. Then we were out of town and Little Miss slept in the same room as us...love her; don't love what she does to my sleep sometimes.

Week three: A smashed success¡ At least I got a couple nights in... And then we got to the weekend...which I spent with my sister. And if you remember, the night owl thing runs in the family on the female side, so that, along with the fact that we hadn't seen each other in a while, plus the layer of us both having small munchkins...well...you get the picture. But nevermind! Onto:

Week four: A "crunch" success: i.e. it was the biggest week for my students (big ol' solo/ensemble festival at the end of this one), so some nights were awesome. And some weren't. But the weekend was spot-on and early, in fact! (I was plumb tuckered out.)

Meanwhile, I did learn a few things:

1. The SleepBot app is pretty slick. The hubby found it a while ago and I used it for *almost* the entirety of this resolution (so far). It gives you the ability to track motion and sound (so I can see just how disturbed and disturbing my sleep actually is). Plus it gives you fun graphs of your trends. And when I say fun, I mostly just mean nerdy/keep-me-honest graphs. My trends are as follows:

• I sleep on average about 8 hours. (Hey! That's pretty good, considering I want 9. Not too shabby.) Unfortunately, it's neck-and-neck with the 7 hour sleep mark... I think I can do better though. 
• I tend to go to sleep somewhere between 12-2am. (Well, I'd say given my bedtime curfew, that's probably fairly reasonable. And the long-term looks to be more 12am based than 2am. Small victories here!)
• I tend to be awoken by small child around 9 am almost every day. I can work with that.

2. Even though I tended to drag out my bedtime curfew, because I had set one, I was much more aware of that fact. Was this a good thing? Undecided. On the one hand, I'm more aware. On the other hand...I feel guilty. On the other other hand (I'm borrowing your hand, dear reader), at least I could take my accountability into my own hands (see what I did there ;) ) BEFORE I went to bed. So there's that at least. Good ol' accountability.

3. I actually feel, overall, much more well rested. Which is weird. Because I didn't really meet my resolution goal very well. That being said, when I was consistently (ish) doing it that first week, I did have more energy. Was it because I was actually getting good, quality sleep? Meh. That's debatable. The spikes in sound and movement some nights were almost off the charts. (Seriously, check out this app!) But, I did have better control over my sleep patterns. Guess there's something to be said for a sleep schedule. 

4. I'm tired. It's 11:54pm as I'm typing this. It's almost past my "bedtime". (Perhaps the resolution did it's job, then? Albeit spotty at times?)

So in short, I'll have to wrap things up (see #4). 

What's next on the hit parade?

Well, I mentioned increased water intake. And now that I have a new water bottle that DOESN'T LEAK! I feel much more inclined to tackle this resolution. 

And some words of encouragement to us all:

Resolutions are science experiments. Sometimes you need to adjust the variables to make it work. But always keep the constant consistent: Be true to yourself.

I will write a much more engaging blog entry next time. I had all this great info I was going to share. I even had a news article about sleep that *happened* to be in the paper at the end of the first week! But...then I just kept not finding the time to write this entry because...well...there was Netflix and then I had to go to bed. Late. So...I think I just wrote my next resolution. ;)

Until the next time I provide you with scintillating details of important mundane human tendencies...

I must retire. ;)

SMS

Resolution: More sleep, with less sleep.

Onto this week and more personal goals:

I know I need about 9 hours of sleep to FULLY function. Don't judge; everybody has different sleep needs, and I happen to be on the longer side of the spectrum. There's real legit material out there about this...which I would cite here, but that's not part of my small resolution this week, so sorry. But feel free to Google it! ;) Now, unlike my husband, my father, and I'm pretty sure my brother, I can't just count back from when I have to get up in the morning and go to sleep at the hour upon which the math lands. I have the female genetics wherein we stay up way the heck too late and then suffer for days when we realize we need more sleep. And when we go to bed at a "reasonable" time, it usually ends up with a lot of brain commotion or a really good book.

If you know me at all, you know this about my sleep habits:

1. I love sleep
2. I am a night owl
3. I love to sleep in

Well, this was all fine and dandy before Little Miss. Now I have to get up in the morning. Mornings. Blech. Luckily, I am blessed with a late sleeper (for a toddler) as she'll tend to sleep until 9:30am. If you'd ask 27-year-old me (really, pick any age of former me...), I would have been aghast at the mere mention of that hour. Morning shouldn't happen until 11am, if it has to happen at all. And while I still tend to agree with her, I don't have that luxury. Instead, I somehow have to reconcile my three big sleep habits. So...this is where it stands:

1. I love sleep.
2. I am a night owl with a bedtime. I am going to try and go to bed between 11pm-12am every night I can...this week.
3. I *get* to sleep in...until 9:30am.

Instead of telling myself, "Sondra, you must go to bed at 10:30pm and wake up at ... to then work out and have a balanced breakfast," I will give myself a range to get into bed (now the pressure is off so I'm not feeling like I have to fall asleep just then) and then I can have a little me time as a bonus since I read in bed (which usually helps me fall asleep...unless it's a really amazing book. Then I'm really in trouble...).

I'm hoping that after a week of this, I'll be better equipped to answer the question, "What if you went to bed at the same time and got up at the same time?" We shall see. I'm counting on my child for the morning part of that question.

Here goes!

And if you happen to notice the posting time, well, keep in mind that I am technically in bed. :)

Until next time, cheers!

The End of January...and how are YOUR resolutions going?

Aloha!

It has been a while, but the time has come for me to get back to writing. To begin, I will start with A Blog Creation (see what I did there ;) ). What's in store? Resolutions.

It's almost the end of the January. For those of you who made resolutions, how are they going? Have you stuck with them? Have you thrown them to the curbside along with the Lindor truffle wrappers like the ones currently in my garbage can? (They're just so good... ;) ) Are you starting (or restarting) next week? Next month? (Coincidently, next week IS next month...just saying ;) )

Many of us tend to have lofty and multiple resolutions all the time. Not just at the beginning of the year. And that's the tricky part: the goals are sometimes just too big, too many. Not that they aren't valuable or viable, but sometimes, oftentimes, we just can't sustain all the changes we want to make because we are trying to do too much.

This is something that has been coming up a lot recently, in my life. I've had to do a lot of refocusing, of shifting priorities and goals: lessening them or putting them on the backburner. There has been quite a bit of change in the last couple years for our family (hello, Little Miss!), most of which has been joyous and wonderful. But it's also made things challenging, tricky, time-consuming. We've adjusted--some things removed, others just temporarily put on hiatus, still others lessened.

The last couple years, I haven't done any New Year Resolutions as I mostly have just been in survival mode since the birth of our daughter. But now that she's a full-blown toddler, I feel like I can spare some time to work on myself again. That may seem very contradictory, I know. Why would you choose NOW? Now? Everyone knows toddlers go a mile a minute both physically and emotionally. But in reality, it's the BEST time. Because Little Miss has given me a gift: she's shown me that I can make small changes that have a BIG effect.

In years' past, when I've felt so inclined, I have written resolutions down, sealed them in an envelope, and had my husband open it at the end of the year to assess how well I did on my goals. It made me feel more accountable, and even if I didn't meet my resolutions completely, I still found myself attempting them more consistently.

I'm not doing that this year.

Instead, I'm going to choose something small each week (or every other week or every third week, depending on the space and time in my life this year) and I'm going to write about it here. Because that's one of my BIG goals. Not this blog, but writing in general. So instead of trying to jump into a huge writing project (or rewriting, which is really the project that's on the to-do list), I'm starting with something more accessible to the time-frame I have right now. Plus, in theory, writing it on here will keep me more accountable for all my goals, big and small.

I feel like this month has already gone fairly well. More family time is one of our combined goals this year. And we got that immediately out of the starting gate: a trip to Hawaii with my husband and daughter for my 30th birthday. Yes, that was BIG, but the time we spent together for that week reminded us that it's the small, everyday gestures and nuances that make this our life and make our life what we want it to be: watching our daughter have so much enjoyment in walks, playtime (at the beach), eating dinner together, reading books near each other.

When we came home, we continued family time: we made sure to sit down and eat dinner as a family every night that we could. Last week we managed to do that at least four times, maybe five. And this week, it'll probably only be two or three. BUT, those 30-45 minutes are so rewarding. No phones. Only the three of us (plus the hovering furry one looking eagerly for high chair scraps). And somehow, those precious minutes before and after dinner are spent more fulfilled. We aren't playing, "What do you want to eat?" as much because we know we have to have something figured out before the dinner hour arrives. And afterwards, it's just time to be a family.

I know that my husband and I will keep striving to continue this relatively small thing: dinner together as a family. It's reaping so many rewards already, and it's only been one week (officially) for the dinner-sized-portion of this goal ;)

So far, the theme is fundamentals. Last week:  food. This week: sleep. Next week: water. And so, onto the next blog post!

Cheers to happy, healthy, and fulfilled!

Halloween: a real treat for some, tricky for others

I should have been Scrooge for Halloween this year. As an adult, that's how I feel about the "holiday". I wasn't always like that. I used to love Halloween as a kid (I mean, really, what average American kid doesn't like free candy and dressing up as whatever you want?)

When I was younger, I loved going out dressed as whatever great idea I came up with that year. One year I was a hippie, another an old man, another a princess (multiple years), a pirate, etc. For the bulk of my good trick-or-treating years, we lived in Illinois in the perfect neighborhood. Just the right amount of houses to get a full stash and friendly-enough neighbors that it never seemed awkward knocking on doors.

And we knew our neighborhood, us kids. There was the house straight out our front door down almost to the main road on the right that gave out little ice creams cups (the guy worked for the Schwan company). You had to time your trick-or-treating just right there: not too early that your ice cream melted if you didn't want to eat it right away, but not too late or else they'd be out. There was the big (somewhat scary) brown house all the way down one side of the U-shaped neighborhood (the one that ended at the cul-de-sac with the pond where we used to go ice skating). That house handed out full-sized popcorn balls. Yes! They were delicious. A couple sporadic houses would give the GIANT candy bars out each year, but you had to be really on your game to get to those houses in time.

Everybody seemed pretty good about decorations too. Though the Skitinos next door always had the best scare-the-pants-off-of-you walkway up to their main door. I distinctly remember a skeleton that sat in a chair near the front that jumped at you as you walked up. Consequently, in my more formative years, my older siblings had to retrieve my candy from their house as I refused to go up (even when my siblings *tried* to convince me that it'd be okay...I didn't trust my siblings much then. ;) )

As the years passed and we moved to Washington, I started falling out of love with the oh-so-favorite holiday of kids. It started with moving to a neighborhood that was separated by acres of land, down a dark and windy gravel road. Not so much trick-or-treating as real-life scare-the-crap-out-of-you bears or cougars or wild crazy mountain men (imagination of a twelve-year-old) potentially lurked around any corner. One year I went with a couple friends whose Mom drove us all down to the town to trick-or-treat in the neighborhoods there. It just wasn't the same. It wasn't my neighborhood. None of them were my neighbors. And no one had little ice cream cups or giant popcorn balls. Just lots of dum-dums and "fun" size candy bars (seriously, FUN? Since when is little candy fun? Since never.) And the only thing I actually remember from that Halloween is that somehow I ended up sitting on chewing gum and it stuck to my costume and I couldn't get it off.

After that, I got too old to trick-or-treat and I wasn't one to get invited to parties (not that I would have gone anyway.) And forget college years: I had absolutely NO desire to dress up as a slutty bunny/maid/policewoman/whatever skanky outfits were deemed "cool" to go to any party that involved alcohol because that just seemed a colossal waste of time, energy, money, and brain cells. Instead, my roommate and I would put a little paper pumpkin cut-out on our door (the RAs handed them out each year) to signify that all the little trick-or-treaters in the local neighborhood could knock on our door to get some candy. (Not that we gave out very good candy...we were broke college students after all. In fact, I don't even remember what we gave out. Probably dum-dums.) The ladybugs and lions and doggies were cute (most were under the age of 7). And when we weren't handing out candy, we were doing homework.

Fast forward to adult life and I realized that Halloween is kind of lame. Now I get to go out and buy candy for strangers who knock on my door in the evening and interrupt my life. Sure, I could turn off the lights so nobody knocked (not that it would stop some), but there's that tiny kid-voice in me that says, "Oh c'mon! Be a sport!" But really, the only trick-or-treaters I want to see are my neighbor kids and my niece and nephew (my niece and nephew and their parents showed up as an entire pirate family which was pretty awesome!). But other than those few kids I know, I don't want to hand out candy to anybody. How did I turn into such a Grinch? (Another costume I should have donned...)

I am glad that I live in a neighborhood with nine houses, surrounded by other neighbors that are just far enough away that most people don't want to walk up a dark(ish) road. Plus, half our neighbors' lights were out this year. And, to be fair, those few die-hards who did venture up (or down) into our neighborhood, were polite and all costumed. But it took a lot to muster the energy to open the door and smile. *Sigh*

I hope that the spirit of dressing up and make-believe comes back to me because, candy-stashing aside, I used to love dressing up. My best childhood friend and I would play dress up for HOURS on end. Now, I just have the Eeyore, "Oh Bother" attitude (another costume idea!). Perhaps when I have a family of my own and get to take them trick-or-treating I will be re-inspired. Until then, I will just have to take pleasure in seeing those few kids I really want to open my door for and be glad that my neighborhood isn't quite as expansive as the one in Illinois.

Bah Humbug.

A Week in Review: NaNoWriMo and/or Nutcracker

I decided a while ago not to do NaNoWriMo this year, until last night when I started dreaming up characters and a story. As I fell asleep, I thought to myself, "I can definitely do this!"

When I woke up, I realized I am a bit crazy.

My earlier decision to abstain from this year's NaNo will remain in effect. Why? Mostly due to the fact that I get the opportunity to play the principal clarinet part in The Nutcracker this year, something that I have always wanted to do. And, since I do not want to be one of those people who show up unprepared (it baffles me how even after 20+ years of playing the exact same thing people are unprepared...it's called P-R-A-C-T-I-C-E, people!), I intend to spend all the time I would be writing, practicing.

This was a hard decision as the writer in me is throwing an outright temper tantrum, which, to be fair, is fair. I keep putting my writing aside in order to pursue these musical avenues, but sometimes decisions need to be made. If I find myself with extra time this November, I will certainly try to write down the story about the characters that made an appearance last night (and whom I am sure will start pestering me incessantly). But this November is dedicated to practicing both for The Nutcracker as well as the Winds of the Sound quintet recital (which you should all come to on November 23rd; it'll be great music!)

Meanwhile, to all those NaNoers out there: Best of luck to you all!

P.S. And, if I wasn't already convinced that I need to expend my energy into practicing this November, I got a sign this morning as well: Northwestern University has released archived audios of Robert Marcellus masterclasses! *Nerd Alert* Robert Marcellus is a big name in the clarinetting world of yore (and continues to influence the clarinet world, though he passed away in 1996). A fantastic player, he also taught brilliantly and intellectually to both students and fellow clarinet teachers. There's rumored to be 175 hours of pure listening pleasure in these audio files as he talks about technique and repertoire, critiques pieces and he provides constructive criticism to those performing the pieces in his masterclasses. I've already gleaned pearls of wisdom from the bits and snatches I aurally flipped through today. Suh-weet!

A Week in Review: A blow to the knees

I feel like I am 80 years old. I cringe thinking about getting up in the morning because my knees are so stiff and painful. The thought of going downstairs makes me want to crawl back in bed. Each morning I think I'll feel better, and each morning it still hurts. A lot. It's been a month and a half now.

It happened after we went backpacking, but I can't figure out how to fix myself because I'm not altogether sure what's going on. It's not like we hadn't gone backpacking before. I did have new hiking boots, but it wasn't my first time using them. My only thought is this:

I had been wearing my Keens and my super comfortable yoga-mat flip flops almost nonstop this entire summer. Then, when I went backpacking, I actually wore my orthotics (*pats self on back*) and when we hiked down, I also put my knee brace on (*another pat on the back*). I thought I was doing the right thing: good posture and good support. But here's what I actually think happened: My feet/knees/hips rebelled because they were over-corrected after an entire summer of being lazy. (That and my orthotics are about a thousand years old, a.k.a. I got them in high school...and as much as I hate to admit it, probably are doing me more harm than good.)

Ever since that hike down, I haven't been able to bend my knees. I can't kneel. It takes me a long time to just get up and walk to the bathroom or the kitchen.

I used to be able to do this:

Now it hurts to put on socks.

Why, you  may ask, did I not go to a doctor a month ago? Well, I don't believe in doctors much. Or, perhaps I should say I've just been extremely disappointed in them. When I sprained my ankle a few years ago, I put off going in...knowing that they'd just tell me that I needed to rest it and take drugs, etc. It finally got so bad that I went to the urgent care (bad idea). They told me to rest it and take ibuprofen. (Shocker...) That bill ended up being $1000 (the doctor wasn't authorized to read the x-rays so they had to call in a radiologist that I had to pay, the crutches and ankle brace went through different companies which each billed us separately, so on and so forth. Good thing the husband sorted most of that out.) Speaking of  him, let's talk about the time he went into physical therapy for two months for an IT band issue...which the physical therapists actually made worse. And yet we still had to pay a copay twice a week for two months. Or how about the time I tweaked my wrist and it hurt every time I played my instrument? Yep, you guessed it. Multiple doctors appointments, MRIs, x-rays, poking, prodding, and copays, just to be told they "weren't really sure..." which resulted in the option of steroid shots or nothing. I took nothing. What a colossal waste of time, energy, and money.

Now, this isn't a knock against doctors. They definitely have merit and worth in society. Nor is it a tirade against insurance.

But how do you decide when to go into a doctor and why? I feel like if you can rest and recuperate without going into a doctor, then do it. You'll save yourself time and money, and you'll save others time and money.

So what about prolonged injuries like what I now am battling? How do you decide when and where and who to see? Do you go see the doctors just to play a guessing game and be prescribed drugs that you aren't willing to take? Do you try to exercise it out? (Movement, in this case, does seem to be the only thing that sort of helps alleviate pain.) I have rested, iced, heated, compressed, and elevated. And yet nothing. I suppose each day is mildly better, but the slope of improvement is so gradual that I am worried that nothing has changed.

I don't want to go to the doctor just to have them tell me I need to RICE some more. Nor do I want to go and be put through a battery of tests that end up being inconclusive. I would consider physical therapy, but ever since my husband's experience, I am afraid that it'll just be a waste of money AND make me worse.

I guess it's time to go back to RICE and start strength-exercising the muscles in the lower half of my body.

Meanwhile, I have made an appointment with a podiatrist to get new orthotics.

A Week in Review: The long and the short of it (tee hee)

I am not intentionally pushing the posting dates back each week; somehow life just gets busy.

I almost didn't post this week; first because I forgot on Sunday (big day with quintet rehearsal and lessons and youth symphony and lessons and finally getting home to eat dinner). Then, as Monday slipped by, I thought, "Should I bother this week? It's already Tuesday..."

But NO! I said I would do this, so barring any actual forgettage (English major is allowed to make up words), I will persevere.

A short snippet for the week (pun intended):

My hair cut rocks. (Pun intended again.)

The bass players in the symphony in which I play are located across the entire room from me, stage left. Due to this location, rarely, if ever, do we interact. A new bass player joined us last season, an older, slender black man from Chicago, who wears a newsboy cap with some grays underneath. I don't believe we've even nodded a "Hello" to each other (due, again, merely to location).

The first rehearsal after my hair cut, I walked into rehearsal and sat down. Incredibly early, I was one of only a few people in the room. The bass player walked in and as he was about to put bow to strings, said (from across the room), "You got your hair cut!"

Catching me completely off guard, I at least responded with a, "Yes, I did!"

He made my day. The only other person in my section doesn't notice I chopped off multiple inches of hair, but a pleasant gentleman from across the room does—and comments on it! :)

Just goes to show you that you never know who's watching. And not in the creepy, stalker way, but in the "being aware of your surroundings" kind of way.

Remember, people like to be noticed and acknowledged. Even something that may seem trivial to you could make a difference in somebody's day.