Remember when Phoebe taught us how to have fun when we go for a run? My apologies to the middle age man wearing the water bottle belt and the seriously stupid “runners sunglasses”. I’m pretty sure I scared the shit out of you this morning while flailing about to my music and trying to have a little extra fun on my run. But I’m not really sorry, you looked like you were trying to run while simultaneously keeping the stick from falling out of your asshole.
I woke up one morning a while back and centered my meditation on having more fun with the things I continue to make “shoulds” in my life. Yes. Meditated. Hop on the train people. Five minutes, 10 minutes, 20 minutes, whatever you’ve got. It makes a difference. Sooo, I was meditating…and I thought of all the things I do that I treat as have-to’s to be checked off my list. Then I focused on how I could make them more fun. Because life is too short not to have more fun damn it! And I don’t mean by going to see more live music, or having more sex, or buying the more expensive wine that doesn’t give you a headache, or getting more massages. Those are all amazing things we should be doing more of, obviously! But, I’m talking about the everyday stuff. Not everything has to seem like a chore, even if it is a chore, or be done in a hurry, when I’m not actually in a hurry. Everything doesn’t need to be a dreaded task to get crossed off a list. Admittedly though, I find a perverted satisfaction in running that sexy, black Sharpie marker across the completed task. It’s really about experiencing it in all of it’s chaotic, messy, mundane, overwhelming, underwhelming, to-do glory…with music.
It’s all just better with music! All styles and sounds and genres. It’s a mood thing. A motivational thing. A me thing. A We thing. We started playing “Happy Radio” on Pandora every morning when the kids were getting ready for school. It didn’t completely eliminate the “I don’t wanna go to school today! I’m tired! I hate this shirt! We have to brush our teeth?! We just brushed them last night!” But it kept me from pushing them naked into the front yard and throwing their clothes and frozen waffles at them. And it did shorten the duration of the whining as they started to focus more on the fun songs from their favorite movie sound tracks. I mean, who could possibly throw a tantrum when you hear Pharrell’s Happy or JT’s Can’t Stop this Feeling, or Fitz and the Tantrums Hand Clap and even Harry Belafonte’s Day O (The Banana Boat Song).
If music could take the grump out of my kids on an early morning school day, it could certainly do the same for me, right? It seems so obvious. Music makes me feel good. So, I started being more intentional about the music I listened to and when. Using it to help liven up the humdrum and tedious to-do’s in my mom life also helped to change my perspective on the tasks at hand. The right kind of music can take my work out from “I need to burn these calories to fit into my jeans” to “Your right Megan Trainer, every inch of me is perfect from the bottom to the top.” And it takes the boring out of folding boxer briefs and matching socks and ironing dress shirts, oh, who am I kidding, I don’t fucking iron…praise the lord for wrinkle free shirts! You could probably even catch me doing a fist pump or two while mowing the lawn, a butt shake with a mop in my hands, and a small-titty shimmy with dish gloves. One of my besties downloads the audio version of our wine club, ehem, book club selections and listens to them while she does housework. Brilliant. Though I sometimes wonder if it’s because she actually doesn’t know how to read. Just kidding Miriam. I’ve seen you read wine labels and vodka bottles, duh.
So I’ve decided to stop looking at my to-do list as a J.O.B, like coming into work on a Sunday, stuck in a broom closet, trying to figure out who stole my stapler kinda thing. Instead I’m gonna grapevine down the frozen food isle, ok, maybe just step touch, I’ll work up to the grapevine. I’m gonna stop fighting the parts of my life that I’ve deemed so daunting, and embrace them as part of my super important role of taking care of shit around here. It’s part of me enjoying more of the kick-ass me that I am as a mom, and wifey.
So watch out Mr. Serious Running Man with your shorts that barely cover your balls, I may just break your stride on the trail with a little Running Man of my own.