Hitting life's "pause" button

Dave and I were outside the other day and he pointed out this bird's nest. Which is remarkable because he's not one to notice details. When we first started dating, I used to blow out my hair until one day I let it go completely curly and Dave didn't say a word. "Do you notice anything different about me?" I asked. "Are you wearing lipstick?" he said.

So when Dave notices something like this, it's a Big Deal. The bird's nest sighting was also notable because we both took time to marvel at the intricacy of it. Just a few minutes but still, we stopped what we were doing (fall yard clean-up) and gazed.

These moments are rare. I'm typically on fast-forward, plowing through the musts in my life—things I need to do for Max, for Sabrina, for their schools, for work, for the house, for bills, for vacation plans, for me (on occasion), for Dave (also on occasion), for blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, you KNOW. I get so caught up in it all that it's rare I take time to ponder and muse and reflect and just think. E-mail, Facebook and Twitter distract me. Those five minutes of semi-consciousness before I fall asleep really don't count for much. And I have negative brain power in the shower in the morning; lather, rinse, repeat is about all I can handle.

Growing up, my mom used to sit on the couch at night and have just one cigarette. That was it; otherwise, she never smoked. It was her time to chill. I'd like to figure out a way to have the couch time, sans cigarette, but I am dubious I could just sit there and do nothing but think. I've gotten way too restless. I'd have to be stapled to the couch or something, which could be painful and I don't think Dave would do it.

But I'd really like to figure out a way to hit the pause button on my life.

We now return to our regularly-scheduled insanity.