...if it's not one thing...

TGI-Weekend!!!

This week has been killer...if it's not one thing, then surely it's another.  Mister Man had off from school on Monday for the holiday which already meant I had to rearrange my usual work-week schedule.  Tuesday morning at the crack of dawn my phone rang to inform us that it would be a snow day.  Mister man?  Delighted!  Mami?  Stressed out!  By Wednesday afternoon I was falling victim to the bug Mister Man had last week.  And Friday's snow day repeat only added to the mess.

Waaaaaah! 

So here I am...beyond belated in posting, well, anything.  My head is all poundy and dizzy, my nose is all stuffy, and I swear if I look at anything for to long it starts swimming across my vision. Ugh!

The good news?  I wrote down my daily TTP posts in my carry-along journal.  So if and when I catch a real break this weekend, I can get around to posting them. 

In the meantime I encourage you to check out some of the fabulousity over on my blogroll.  Yep...go ahead...go read somewhere else...cause we both know there's nothing of interest to read here right now!



...cornering the market on common sense...

As I finished up this morning's blurb on MakeDos and reflected on the fact that someone somewhere was savvy enough to draw up a business plan based solely on selling both common place junk and common sense creativity all handily wrapped up in themed packs, it struck me that in order for the product to have been deemed sellable a market for that product must first exist.  Which means, simply put, that here was a product that existed because people the world over hadn't already had the bright idea to reuse-recycle-repurpose common discards as craft supplies, or game components or even toy robots and bathtub boats and  building blocks.

Hmm...whodathunkit... 

And here I've been doing just that all along.  

I suppose I always figured that mine were not original ideas.  That the daily routines and habits  and structures of living that I slogged through were just bits and pieces culled from some greater universal list of components. 

Pick some from column A, choose some from column B.  

Drink coffee or drink tea.

Omnivore or vegan.

Tosser or keeper. 

And then all of a sudden, clarity.  All the years spent funneling out advice and suggestions and tips...of helping friends brainstorm...of invariably seeking out budget savvy solutions...of altering recipes and inventing new ones...and every day spent making treasures from trash...  It's unique.  Uniquely me.  Uniquely mine.  The product of my singular original creative mind.  The commonplace that I live in is vastly different from everyone else's.  The normal everyday I live may very well be new to you.

This evening Mister Man flexed his brain with another round of Lego Creationary at his grandparents' house and once again I was struck by the commonplace-commonsense of it all.  Column A and Column B melded the old standard Pictionary with the sort of inventive Lego building that I see everyday from my son and made themselves a new hit!  A moneymaking hit at that!

Good gracious!

Just think about it.  How many times has a new product hit the market and you've exclaimed 'I thought of that' or 'I made something like that' or even 'I've been doing that for years'?  And to think that there are actually people out there who've managed to convince someone to buy those very same ideas! 

It definitely makes me wonder what treasures may be lurking undiscovered in my daily life. 

How about you? 

Perhaps it's time to write that book after all....

Or at the very least, create one new orginal piece of something and assign it a value.

In this day and age of financial instability it may just be that entrepreneurship is the safest way to travel.  Why not corner the market on your own common sense?  It's certain to be new to someone!

...all the other dads were doing it...

In between bouts of shivering, shoveling and scraping (ice scraping that is) yesterday, we hit the slopes for some sledding while the snow is still deep enough to sled upon.  We were lucky enough to have with us one of the relics of days gone by, an antique wooden sled with runners and front steering.  What fun!  Had Mister Man but been in muted snowgear it would no doubt have made for a lovely vintage-themed photo shoot.  Instead, he sported a miscellany of mismatched snowgear...clashy but warm (unlike his fashionably frigid Mami) as he coasted down the hill at record speeds.  All those kids in saucers and rafts and plastic paraphernalia were eating his dust!  I'm definitely making it my shopping mission to seek out and buy him a sled like the one we got to use, before next winter.

    Despite several requests, this Mami declined any trips downhill and remained shivery but stalwart on the crest of the hill while my son dove headlong into winter fun. 

There was one family in particular that garnered our attention as they also sported a wooden sled.  The father noticed us right away and declared his joy that someone else had a real sled also.  His son and Mister Man ran a few races down the hill together and he ever so kindly spent some time aligning our runners and scraping off some excess rust.  What a sweetheart!  So rarely do people seek out ways to be helpful and yet here he was, taking the time to help us get the maximum joy out of the sledding experience.  And let me tell you, this man definitely took his sledding expedition seriously.  He had several antique sleds of different styles, full-on winter proof apparel and a contagiously chipper outlook.  I think it's safe to say he spent as much time on the sleds, if not more, as his children did!

After as long as I could stand the shiveries we finally called it quits for the day (of course promises to repeat were offered up!) and headed home.  On the way home Mister Man piped up from the backseat, questioning why I hadn't traded off rides downhill with him.  I answered matter-of-factly that I had not dressed appropriately and was to cold to even consider getting up close and personal with the snow.  That answer was not good enough though.  So the question was repeated, my answer reworded...and then...silence...for a minute or so.  Mister Man spoke up again, saying "But all the other Dads were doing it..."

And there you have it...in the eyes of my son, I'm both. 

I'm Mami, for sure, all the time.

But when needed or noticed, I'm Dad to. 

A challenge I set for myself when first I became a single parent to (to my best abilities) cover both roles as needed seems to have been realized.   

It's not so much the lack of a dad as the presence of an all-encompassing Mami.