A Pit of Corn

I was laying in a pit of corn today, looking up at the ceiling, and thinking, "This is what my life has come to. I'm just a girl laying in a pit of corn, looking up at the ceiling."

Which isn't much different from what I used to be (you know, before kids and family life).

See, I've always been drawn to activities such as this. I carved a pumpkin every year long before having kids. And when I was 19, I remember dragging Vern to the lighting of a Christmas tree in East Grand Forks. We were the only ones there, except for a TV crew.

So, needless to say, I've never been the person hitting the clubs, or living the high life.

I have always just been the girl laying in a pit of corn, looking up at the ceiling.

Or the girl sitting by a tree, reading a book.

Or the girl sitting at the Pizza Ranch, eating 15 slices of pizza.

And I think that's important to remember.

I was reading this article about a rural Minnesota birth center, where it talked a little about the dynamics and politics behind birth in the metro area. ("...natural birthing as fitting the current cultural zeitgeist, part of the impulse for sustainable, organic everything.") And it said, "Of course, out on the prairie, none of this seems to matter. The tangle of politics, the academic debate, Ricki Lake—these are all senselessly frivolous city concerns."

Senselessly frivolous city concerns. I'm tired of senselessly frivolous city concerns. Where things are over-thought out, trying too hard, and anxious about everything (gluten, dairy, rear-facing car seats, eating local, etc).

I want to return to a simpler time and and focus on doing the simple things in life that I love (which includes living a good, healthy lifestyle), and not worry about the rest of it.

I like being that girl, laying in a pit of corn, looking up at the ceiling.

It's simple. It's nice. It's part of who I am.