wax on...wax off.

I am a focused person. I don't think that makes me any better or worse than the next person; it's just how I happen to be. Some people call it 'drive', but with me it's more focus than anything. Take Christmas presents for example. Some people have the ability to shop for their loved ones by walking into a store, picking up a few things, swinging by gift wrap and calling it good. Not me. I turn a would-be pleasant shopping trip with cider, Christmas music and credit cards into a full-scale-nuclear-attack. For example, in mid-November I make a spreadsheet: who to send a christmas card and who to send a gift. There are columns for gift ideas, when I find it and when it's been sent. I have codes and sub-categories so I make sure no one is missed. I'm going to stop now because this is only step #4 of Operation 'CCSIFS' (Casual Christmas Shopping is for Sissies), and I fear you'll show up this afternoon for an intervention if I continue.

Needless to say, while this kind of focus served me just fine when I ran my own business, it can be a thorn in your personal life. I mean who has time to smell the roses if you're on a mission? Let's just say my daughter has taught me more about the good stuff of life than I ever could her, and leave it at that.

The other day I had one of those days. I hadn't had one in a while, but I think life was just saving up for that day. Having read my string of emails accounting for the day's frustrations, my husband sent me on an errand (sans baby) that evening so I could 'get out and take some time.' I got into the car, and going through the usual pre-trip checklist I turned on the seat-warmers (bestinventionever), tuned the radio and adjusted my mirrors. As I'm adjusting the rear-view, this movie line comes to mind: "focus, Danielsan."

Do you remember the Karate Kid? No, I don't mean the new Karate Kid. I mean the old school, Ralph Macchio Karate Kid from 1984. I'm sure I've seen it a hundred times. The classic story where the skinny awkward kid takes on the cool blonde stud with the great hair, gets the girl and still saves the tree. Great story. Somewhere in the middle of the movie, Mr. Miyagi is trying to teach young Daniel Larusso the art of martial arts and expresses the need for him to focus if he is to master the art, get the girl, and save the tree.

Last time I was in the car I had the rear-view adjusted down so I could see Emily. We were singing songs on our way home from an event-filled trip to Nords (don't get me started) and I can't help but watch her little hands go over her head to do the 'sun' as it's drying up all the rain so the itsy bitsy spider can go up the spout again. But this time there was no peanut in the backseat, so I was adjusting the mirror to see out the back window.

I remember a day when the reason I adjusted my rear-view was because I was feeling exceptionally tall that morning (hardy har), but these days it is certainly for a different reason. Today I think I'll make more of an effort to curb my slightly-nerotic-OCD-list-making-tendencies and concentrate on those mud puddles forming outside our door. What are Hello Kitty rainboots for, afterall?