I’m in the middle of one of those life tornadoes. I feel like everything is swirling around me, uncontrollably, but in an organized cyclone shaped fashion.
With the business, emails, phone calls, shoots, laundry, packing and unpacking, petting Gracie, cleaning the house, and eating and sleeping, it feels a little crazy at Casa de Youngren. A little too crazy. In fact, it was right before we left for Costa Rica that I realized that it was time for dinner and that I should have started dinner about an hour earlier because it had to go in the oven and like anything that goes into the oven, it was going to take forever, so I broke down. Leaning against the sink, holding a green pepper in one hand and a scrubber in the other I started sobbing. Uncontrollably, but in an organized sobfest-shaped fashion.
Its not that I’m overwhelmed. My to-do list is manageable. I have everything perfectly dated and organized in my Things app, and I madly check things off all day. Stuff is getting done. Important stuff. Stuff that makes our world go ’round.
But its the less-important stuff that I miss. I make 80% of our meals right in our kitchen, so its not that I miss dinner. We have dinner together most evenings simply because we work from home, so when we’re not traveling or shooting, we eat right from our own pantry. But its the cooking that I miss. I miss chopping an onion while dancing in my PJ bottoms and belting out the wrong words to Leona Lewis. Or emptying my fridge of its contents because I felt the urge to create an all-new, completely original (aka weird) appetizer out of bleu cheese, leftover sausage, and french loaf.
I miss enjoying my Martha Stewart Living magazine instead of quickly scanning it while I sort the mail. I miss catching up with friends over the phone instead of a quick, “Just checking in!” I miss reading before I go to bed instead of plopping down exhausted. But you get the idea. There’s a lot of little things in life that serve as seasoning, and they’re easy to miss until days become tasteless. Crazy, but tasteless.
So after a good cry in our kitchen, Jeff made me take a bath. A long, bubbly, warm, smelly-good bath. Long enough to read my entire Martha Stewart Living. Long enough for Jeff to make dinner. Long enough for my toes to go wrinkly and my tears to dry so I could return to the tornado.
My crazy, organized life tornado.
And here’s an image that is the antithesis of the life tornado. his is one of the most relaxing and content places on the planet. Riding on the back of a tuk-tuk in Cambodia with our driver Thul, whom you met yesterday. Don’t be surprised if you see this image hanging on our walls. Its a memory I never want to forget.