Living by the mantra of Keep It Simple, Stupid, known as the KISS principle, has been one of my most elusive dreams. I seem to attract complications and complexities like flies at a picnic, and have grown to believe that I actually call them somehow.  The school mornings where we all get up late and I end up flying around the kitchen making breakfast and snacks, half-dressed myself, begging sleepy boys to get into clothes and seats ... they're the ones that I often secretly enjoy.  I'm put to the "how-much-can-I-accomplish-at-once" test, and usually pass with flying colors.  Meanwhile, the rest of the family is hurried, irritated, and wishing for peace, coffee, and a curl up in the comfy orange chair with a book.  My flip side is that peaceful mornings like this...  (a beautiful photo blog of a year of mornings) call to me strongly too.

Apparently I'm conflicted :).

What's your favorite method?

Assuming all human beings have some way of sabotaging their life, or holding themselves back, what would be your favorite method?

a) Procrastination

b) Indecisiveness

c) Following secondary goals (i.e. goals that won't ultimately make you happy)

d) Tolerating

e) Not saying "Yes"

f) Not saying "No"

g) Not always telling the absolute truth

h) Acting as the "Lone Ranger"

i) Arrogance/The Need to be Right

j) Perfectionism

k) Controlling life/people

l) Other _____________

How  in-dependent are we? With a determined one-year-old starting to exert his independence in our home, the  subject is top-of-mind for me on a daily basis. He fluctuates wildly between  wanting to do things for himself, such as managing a spoon or opening a  container, and crying to be cuddled, fed, or played with. While he's in complete  dependence on his parents, he's reaching for what he can do for himself ... and  especially for those things he sees his older brother doing.

It's there  if we're willing to find it.

Riding the  subway to my group coaching class this week, I looked up at the two women  talking across from me and had a sudden glimpse into the magnitude of the  experience of the human race. A sense of their random (to me) conversation,  their comfort with their own images and relationships, and the innumerable  experiences that led them to that car that very moment. Times that by 6.5  billion for the number of lives being lived in the world right now, and I feel a  bit of awe. Call me odd, but this sense of the immensity of human life confronts  me every once in awhile. It doesn't leave me feeling insignificant, but rather  empowered that every life is unique, important, precious, relevant, and fragile.  I end up reflecting on what I'm doing with mine. 

As if There's Any Other Way ...

Last  weekend, our housemate of two years moved out. She lived in our front room, and  was a happy, bubbly addition to the house. She often commented on what "super  parents" we were, and how she envied our perfect little family. I would protest  "If you only heard the arguments!" , which she said she never did.

Having  survived, and even really enjoyed the holiday season last month, I'm now looking  back with some bemusement. It started with my 6-month-old suddenly arriving at  the Must-Have-Toy-Now- Or-I'll-Scream stage. Things that drop must be retrieved  immediately, and boredom lurks around hidden corners. He's discovered the idea  that things can be possessed, at least by his small hands and drooling mouth,  and he's addicted. As the holidays often breed Gotta-haves and Gotta-dos in  young and old alike, I started thinking about it a bit.