...and Fun is Good.

Okay, it’s February.  According to the ‘Big Scary List’, it ‘highly encourages’ I maintain forward momentum and add another item to keep focus.  I would say that so far, I’m doing pretty good; with the exception of maintaining diligence to get the Temple as orderly as the Manor. I won’t lie, it has not been an easy task.  Committing an hour to working out and a half hour to meditate daily usually gets trumped by such silly (and allegedly ‘required’) responsibilities as caring for the Monkey or working for a living.  I have however, ignored wrangling the riot of dog fur that barricades the second floor in search of some serenity, but remarkably, the taunting mass doesn’t self clean.  Neither does the fridge, just sayin.  I'm going to have to really concentrate on developing my gift of mind control to get the residences of the Manor to do my bidding and housekeeping.  I'd start with the newts but they'd be useless making lunches.  Perhpas I'll work on the Pancake dog; she seems less astute than the other fur-kid and she might be good with a vacuum....

According to the Big Scary list, February = Love.  pfft.  

Now, let’s clarify something right up front; the List doesn’t say I have to find Love this month; I’m big on lists, not acts of self-humiliation.  I was apparently lucid enough not to write anything more than just ‘Love’ on the List.  I believe I may have been under the influence of the warm-fuzzy-happy glow of wine when I wrote ‘Love’ on the list anyway, which explains why it is scrawled in serial killer handwriting with a sinister smiley face beside it.  (*note to self; don’t drink and list).  

But you know what?  I’m not ready to talk about ‘Love’, or more specifically, romantic Love.  As much as I heart lists and intend to adhere to the Big Scary List, I’ve also committed myself to write what inspires here in my blog.  I’m not yet inspired to write about Love; which is alright by me, I’m too busy having fun.  That’s right, fun.  Oh and by the way, having fun is on the Big Scary list too.  I know.  It really is a pretty awesome list.    

A long time ago, one of my oldest and dearest friends accurately (and not so delicately) observed that unless my activities had an end goal, objective and/or purpose, I really wasn’t very good at just being whimsical and playful.  In short, I wasn’t good at havin’ the fun.  And she was right, damn it.  So, like any self-respecting type A, I immediately set my focus on being more playful and spontaneous.  I, was going to make myself have fun. 

See, I grew up in a house with a ‘Once-you’ve’.   ‘Once-You’ve’ finished your homework, you can go play.  ‘Once-You’ve’ finished the dishes, you can ride your bike.  A Once-You’ve is the creature who steals fun from everything and hoards it for itself.  You need to feed the Once-you’ve in order for it to relinquish an opportunity for fun.  Therefore, in my house, fun was mutually exclusive of regular day-to-day things.  I learned fun was potentially a reward for doing something arduous, tedious and/or necessary.

I thought for sure once I had a child I would automatically know how to have fun based on maternal osmosis and well, kids come with a whole bunch of brightly coloured fun-invoking accruements.  I even bought a 12 pack of Play Doh and all the fixin’s in preparation of becoming FUN.  One Fuzzy Pumper Barber Shop later and still, no instant fun-ness.   For the record, sleep-deprivation, vomit and an endless supply of poop is so not fun.  Infants are fun-suckers.  But, infants turn into to toddlers and then turn into preschoolers and eventually control their own bodily functions and require regular sleep.  Then the fun starts to appear. 

The Monkey has truly become my OB1 of fun.  She’s taught her not-so-young Paduin quite a bit about the necessity of this unforeseen Force and hence, it keeps the ‘Once-You’ve’s’ from taking up residence at the Manor.  It’s amazing what happens when you recognize the value of fun into your daily routine actually.  You can learn to skate and swim faster than taking lessons, or you can enjoy shoveling snow.  You wear silly hats and dance when you clean, you are more creative in your work and remarkably, you may actually look forward to wearing tube socks in public. 

Fun needs momentum to live so  infuse fun into all that you do, and be sure not to take something purely fun and impose so much rigor around that it suffocates the fun.  Say like, oh, I dunno, imposing a topic, or issuing deadlines or a minimal number of weekly posts to a blog, just as a random example... I'm sure that would kill any sort of enjoyment out of  a highly enjoyable and cherished activity.  (Mental note: Be sure not to become a sucker of the fun).

So, as a Type A, I still need to validate my effort with a hard line measurable.  I need to answer the question of whether or not I’m now officially fun, but how will I empirically mea….

‘Mommy, why are you always so silly?’

Nuff said.