Blogworthy. It’s the new word my husband and I have invented for events in our lives that we feel are worthy of being written about. For example, as my husband is diligently pursuing his Board Certification in Leisure Specialization, we’ve been discussing his studies. So, the other night, as I’m cleaning our four plates and tidying our fully-minimized kitchen, he tells me that he has the opportunity to earn 60 extra credit points in his online class by virtually training a cyber rat. Really? Training a cyber rat? I fumble for the soapy dish that almost slipped from my grasp … can’t go breaking any dishes when there is only one per person. Virtually training a cyber rat. I hope we are paying good money for this education. That is blogworthy, I tell him.
I wish there were more blogworthy moments, because they make for a good time.
But then, there are the occasions where the blogworthy events are less than awesome. For example. Today, I spent the afternoon at the pet store finding dog shampoo for irritated skin, flea medicine, and a gourmet dog treat to reward my 68 pound Golden Retriever after bathing him myself. He’s eight. And I have to tell you … the groomer has been doing a fabulous job for the past eight years. Unfortunately, my bookkeeper refuses to acknowledge the groomer as a legitimate business expense. Although, I did learn the hard way that the cost of shampoo, flea medicine, and dog treats amounts to approximately 300% of the cost of the groomer. Mathematics aside, I climbed in the shower with my canine companion. It went reasonably well. Considering the fact that I was in a tile shower with a 68 pound Golden Retriever, fully clothed. I was fairly proud of myself. For about 30 minutes. Until I just went into the bedroom to tackle the *clean* side of Mt. Laundry … that which has been waiting all weekend to be folded and put away. Only to find my wet dog sleeping on top of it. It’s so weird. Because when I take him to the groomer, he comes home dry. And happy. And flea-less.
I suppose you could say that some moments feel a little less “blogworthy” and more like my life should be a country-western song. Take this afternoon, for example … my son got his first black eye … at a one year old’s birthday party … with full parental supervision. And my daughter zipped her belly-button into her too-small pajamas that she refuses to outgrow. In a nut shell, it’s been a nutty day.
But at the end of the day, I’ve learned a few valuable lessons on my journey of minimization:
- When minimizing the items necessary for every-day functionality, don’t be afraid to keep a few extras on hand … an extra plate or glass is not going to make the world stop spinning.
- When minimizing your budget, be sure to evaluate the cost/benefit ratio of some unnecessary, but stress-reducing luxuries … like bathing your dog.
- As much as you would like to minimize all of the bullies in this world, they are, sadly, just a product of the parents who raise them. And sadly, our children are going to grow up to have to deal with them someday anyhow.
- And last, but certainly not least, if you ever feel that you are teetering on the brink of sanity and need a good psychological experiment to pull you back from the ledge, apparently there are some good cyber rat training programs out there.