There are two kinds of people: those who are intrinsically motivated and those who are extrinsically motivated.
If you are intrinsically motivated you are able to reach your goals because your desire comes from within. You don’t need any outside reward or motivation.
If you are extrinsically motivated you are able to reach your goals when there is an external or outside factor that motivates you to do it. You need a a deadline, a due date, or better yet, a reward.
I am extrinsically motivated. I’m not proud of it. I even tried to dedicate a month of my life towards my quest of intrinsic motivation… but, alas, it did not happen as I had planned.
And yet I’d like to tell the critical side of me to “just back of, ok?!” I am extrinsically motivated. Fine! So what? But at least I have found the external force to wake me up with the other early birds and that’s enough.
Yes, it’s true.
I want you all to know I am on Day 4 of being a morning person. Day 4!
So what is this driving external force behind the change?
Well, the answer is obvious and therefore a bit deflating. School (Oh, La, you mean real life is getting you up in the morning? Shocking).
But it’s not just Chunk #1’s school. Cause I could sleep til 7:00 (or 7:08, or 7:16, or 7:24) to get him off to school. No, it’s El Jefe’s school. He is off to change the world (one student at a time) somewhere between 6:00 and 6:20 am everyday. I have made sure that when he is off to change the world, he does it on a full belly.
Now, perhaps the modern woman would say “He’s a big boy. Let him feed himself.” To which I say, “True.” But on the other hand, what is wrong with taking care of my husband when I can? Nothing.
And that is the secret to my embrace of the morning. I like taking care of him (as I should). And, then there are so many perks to getting those chores done before the kids get up, whereas, before I would try to get them done at night, when I’m tired from life and the (sometimes) nightly bedtime battle.
So, I’m doing it. I’m on my way to being a morning person. My days as a night owl are gone (at least this week anyway)! Come 9:00 pm I am pooped….whereas before, it was, like, midnight…but I digress.
How long will this last? I don’t know.
But in the meantime I shall enjoy this newfound friend called “Morning”. We are in the honeymoon stage of our relationship, but so far, I really like her.
Yesterday I ran into a ceiling fan.
How does one commit such a ridiculous act?
One goes to dust the high shelf of One’s bedroom while standing on the bed. One also forgets how close One is to the nearby rotating ceiling fan and One turns to jump off the bed and accidentally gets her face caught in the blades.
Go ahead. You can laugh. You have my permission.
After the initial shock I was most concerned about my eye. When I felt like it was OK, I took my hands from my face and found a large amount of blood smeared across my fingers and palms. I went to the mirror. Three gashes across my nose, one tiny one under the bag of my left eye, and one huge one on the upper left corner of my forehead. It also had a pretty good goose egg.
The thing that bothers me the most is this is not the first time I’ve had a pretty wicked scar or bruise or whatever for doing something so incredibly stupid. I wish I could say “Oh, well, I took up boxing so….”
No, I ran into a ceiling fan.
This brings up some other accidents that maybe some of my family or close friends remember:
- Road rash on both knees and a little on my stomach (You could see tiny little bits of gravel in my skin for a long time). No, it wasn’t from a wicked wipeout while mountain biking. It was from chickening out from riding a bicycle off of a ramp into a pond.
- Stitches in my left thumb. No, it wasn’t from learning to be one of those knife throwing chefs at Benihana. It was from opening a tuna can and somehow cutting myself.
- Gashing my skin wide open on my left shin. No, it wasn’t while rock climbing some wicked walls out at Red Rock. No, it was from riding a small “zipline” (or imitation of one) on a small playground near Bend, OR. My foot slipped while catching myself.
This morning I woke up and nearly panicked when I saw that my goose egg had moved. It moved! I felt the large bump wondering “Is this one of those hematomas? (do I even know what that is? No) Do I have a blood clot? (maybe that’s what a hematoma is) Will I go blind?!” So I called my Physical Therapist Sister. When in doubt, call Amy. She reassured me. She told me her own experience with bumps on the head and I felt better.
Did you know it is normal for a goose egg on your head to move? It is looking for the spot of “least resistance”…so close to your eye. It is possible for me to have a nice bruise just around my left. Yes, a black eye.
Just in time for the first day of school.
So, how should I explain this? I ran into a ceiling fan….or…..I just took up boxing, you know, as a hobby.
post edit OK, it’s later:
August. It was designated as my month to become a “morning person.” It’s been a week and, well, uh…..
Apart from all you morning people who’ve got some ‘splaining to do, I think I need someone to whip out some instructional charts and graphs on how to stop being a night owl. And if you just say “go to bed” then I can’t be your friend anymore. It’s me, La, I need a magic recipe. Now give me your secret routines and nightly rituals. Now.
There is nothing like homemade bubbles. So fun.
Luly especially liked them.
Bill Nye the Science Guy (ok, it was my nephew) gave us a a demonstration in bubble science.
That’s right, his hand is inside the bubble. Everybody oooooh, and everybody aaaaaaaah, cuz that’s just cool.
I just HAD to show my wicked bruise from tubing. Unfortunately, El Jefe’s battery died in the middle of our water sports. This is sad indeed because I cannot show you the punishment I endured behind my brother’s boat. We hooked up the hot dog and the inner tube. It was my sister Amy, my brother Guy, and me. Guy carries two helmets in his boat for events like this. He put one on, then gave Amy the other one. Excuse me?! First of all what are you planning on doing that would merit a helmet? Second of all, why don’t I get one?
(This is because I’m the youngest isn’t it?) (Jerks.)
In my family you don’t just ride the inner tube or hot dog. No, there must be some sort of challenge involved. Which is fine. I’m up for the challenge. It’s just that I’m getting up in years and my trips on the boat are more spread out. So we jumped from hot dog to inner tube and back and forth. If I wasn’t fast enough, Guy would pick me up by the life jacket and throw me where he wanted me to go. At one point, while alone on the inner tube I was charging back into the hot dog but taking some pretty wicked waves in the mean time. I smacked hard against the water but hung on for dear life, yes for “dear life”. Finally, somebody flew off (Was it I? I don’t remember) I sat on the hot dog and then looked at where my leg (just above my knee) smacked the water. It wasn’t just bruised, my veins were raised up on my skin. I showed Amy, the physical therapist. “Those look like varicose veins.” I’ve never had varicose veins. I told her what happened and this is what she described.
“Your wet suit is tight enough that your circulation is low. So when you hit the water the blood just pooled up in your veins right there.”
POOLED?! Sick. I don’ t like that description. Blood, pooling up in my veins. I couldn’t even touch it (yes my own leg).
I spent the rest of the ride (when we had breaks) pulling at my wetsuit so it wasn’t so tight and lifting my leg up so the pooling blood would move on. Move on pooling blood! Sick.
By the end of the day the veins had gone down and I just had a nice purple and blue bruise.
Here is a picture of it two days later:
Yes, I am so stinking behind in these posts. But, for the sake of posterity and sharing, I feel I must keep updating the Summer Adventure 2009. So take a look at some more of the 4th of July.
Here are a couple of the face-painting artists.
See their work?
Chunk #1 especially liked the face painting.
And now, the fireworks!
This next picture is my favorite…
(These most excellent photos were taken by the one and only El Jefe. He just started a photo blog. Would you like to see it? Click here.)
At the end of the evening the kids were all tuckered out.
This is how he looked when I put him to bed (notice the increased amount of face paint). It was a long day.
A good parent would wash this stuff off before bed. That’s all I’ll say.
Now, what did YOU do on the 4th of July? Do tell.
I would like to interrupt my travel logs with a special announcement:
This is a picture of a Sunset . Not a Sunrise (this is not the announcement, just wait).
Why does that matter? Well, Guess what? I don’t have a picture of the sun rising because I rarely see it and if I do, I just don’t want to. Actually, I take that back, I do have some pictures of the sunrise. During the summers in high school I would sleep with my drapes open. My room faced the East, so, when the sun would rise I could take a look, and, if it was beautiful, snap a picture. Then I would close the drapes and return to the cozy blankets of my beloved bed. I’m sure I have those pictures stashed away somewhere. I won’t find those until I complete #32 on The List.
Where was I?
Yes, the morning… and my announcement.
I wish to become a Morning Person.
Not only do I wish to become a Morning Person, but I am determined to do this before the end of the month (and before I turn 34 as it is also on The List).
I am dedicating the month of August to (cue the trumpets): “Become a Morning Person Month.”
Would you like to join me?
Now, I’m not just talking about waking up early. I am talking about loving the morning! Embracing the day! Waking up and saying…. whatever it is that morning people say!
I will use this month to figure out the best way to wake up.
I’ve even taken an informal survey asking for suggestions. So far I’ve been told to go to bed early (and I suppose those same people would say “exercise and eat right” if you asked them how to lose weight). My friend Sarah mentioned putting your shoes on first thing in the morning. Pheonix said to just take a walk or go for a run. I read somewhere about playing your favorite music that puts you in a good mood. I have many suggestions and will try them all. Most everyone says “Good luck with that.”
I am going to find the best routine for the morning. I will experiment and report back to you. If I have helped one person, just one person, besides myself, I know that my mission is not in vain.
And please, if you have any secrets to loving the morning, do tell.
Why am I doing this? Because: “Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
I want to be enthusiastic about my day. I want my children to feel that way too.
Wish me luck as it is now 12:11 am.