Monthly Archives: March 2011
I’m about to hit my first blogaversary and I still feel like a newbie to the blogging world. Mainly, because I just don’t blog regularly enough. Or even comment on other blogs often. Not because I lack things to say. I just don’t have enough time to say it in. It’s all my effing school work. I’m buried. And I’ve burnt out. But, I do like blogs, and blogging, and bloggers. I like the link-ups happening all over the place. They’re quite tempting. Even if I can’t find the time to join in. (We’ll except for wordless wednesday, I suppose. But, that’s really just a way to ensure that I post something at least once a week.)
And then there’s Morgan. You know, over at the 818. She just started a fun weekly series that I feel compelled to join: Purgeday Thursday. Okay, maybe not exactly fun. More like, necessary and fantastic. I mean, who doesn’t need to get rid of un-necessarily crap? (I certainly do.) And who wouldn’t want a support group while doing said purging? (Honestly, I might need it.)
Purging? Is something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now. We just have a lot of stuff. What’s worse, most of our stuff isn’t even really ours. People keep giving us thing. Things we don’t need. But, I can’t say no. (Not if I want to sleep at night without replaying the situation over and over in my head, knowing that I’ve must have offended them by saying no and have now irrecoverably damaged our relationship. )With all this things comes clutter. Which is mainly contained to the garage or closets.
And then there is the place we affectionately refer to as hoarders corner:
This is all us. It’s just so much randomness.. a small fortune in change, my mom’s mail (she lived with us up until a few months ago so we’re still getting her mail), window markers/crayons, left over gift bags from the Pea’s party, cords, shoes, books, Eric’s business junk, baby wipes, the broken camera, a shopping bag, and the realization that I kinda suck at life. In the spirit of full disclosure, the picture is missing a couple cups of coffee and a can of beer (as this is the only furniture we have that’s the podlings can’t reach.) Now for a peek inside the little bins.
Bin #1 contains: all sorts of paper products: mail, stickers, pictures, receipts, magazines, my dignity and apparently a lint roller:
Using some of the tips in this post from Morgan and her tips from Bneato I hope to be able to covert my hoarders corner in to something more manageable. (Now that it’s public, there will be no stopping me.) Check back next week and I’ll post pics of my progress and then I’ll tackle the garage. Wish me luck.
(and look at me posting actual words two days in a row.)
My car has needed some repairs for quite some time. Something about gaskets. Or, radiators maybe. Those things are in cars, I think. Not my forte. Or Eric’s, for that matter. I’ll just say it needed a major repair, we wouldn’t/couldn’t/shouldn’t do it, and a giant repair bill fell far below things like rent, utilities, groceries and textbooks on our lists of priorities so the repairs were put on the back burner for a while. (This life as a stay at home mom/college student is not without its sacrifices.) Apparently, it was still driveable but, I worry too much for that. I’d be lying if I said, I wasn’t bummed that I couldn’t drive it but, we got by easily enough as a one car family before the Pea arrived. Honestly, working with one car again wasn’t so terrible; especially, since the rose city has an amazing public transportation system that I truly don’t mind using. (It’s so funny how much of a treat kids think it is to ride the city bus, but I digress).
The time without a car of my own, actually made me second guess the whole 2nd car thing. Again. I mean, with the price of gas it took us a while to come to the conclusion that we needed two car’s in the first place. It wasn’t until I became a SAHM, the Danger-man had preschool or mid-day playdates, and we had another infant that we finally bit the bullet. I’m thinking the next time a major repair comes up I’ll convince Eric I need one of these instead:
Of course, I’ll invest in some helmets too. But again, I digress. And, I’ve learned that I only really need a car for is grocery shopping. We do live with-in walking distance of two grocery stores. There’s just no way I’m walking to the store with two kids in tow just to lug some groceries back in this perpetual rain. The only problem is: Eric’s dream car, our 1970 VW bus is a little emotional. She (er, I mean it) acts like a scorned lover whenever I’m behind the wheel. So, for the past few months our grocery shopping has either been done by Eric or as a family. And, it’s nice having a chauffeur. (I kid.)
Now, my car is finally fixed. (Hallelujah!–is that blasphemy? And, I’m not even going to mention how much it set us back because it’s downright depressing.) So, today I decided to do a practice run at the grocery store sans husband. We didn’t need much, just enough to let me test the waters and get back in the swing of things. I’ve mentioned I’m a worrier, right? And slightly insane? To me grocery stores are littered with kidnappers. Even the little old ladies who want to fawn all over babies seem unsafe. With Eric around, I allow myself to relax my white knuckle grip on the cart. I even allow the Danger-man to frolic around near us rather than cooped up in the cart with groceries piled on top of him. I let older gentlemen call my son sport and my daughter sweetie whilst their wives pinch their cubby cheeks. You know, rather than trying to ram them out of the way with my shopping cart while screaming “stranger danger”. I’m not normally this bat shit crazy when I take my two anywhere else sans the hubs. I think it’s just the distractions that come along with grocery shopping. You know: comparing prices, reading lists, forgetting things…
Okay, back to today. The kids were seated in their rightful place- in the cart. I glided through the store, surprisingly not as worried about kidnappers (maybe Eric’s rubbing off on me). I still didn’t let go of the cart once. (Babysteps.) I asked the Danger-man what else we need to make egg salad sandwiches. And he replied: “Well, let’s see. We have eggs, bread, and veganaise. So we need mustard, salt and pepper.” I’m still marveling at his response because we had not discussed a list. At all. And he nailed all the ingredients. Plus, I’ve forgotten to buy salt for a month now and he remind me that we need it. And a woman, with a basket full of kids of her own, standing nearby complimented him on his sheer brilliance.
Fast forward to the 3 of us looking at herbs for the garden. We had already gotten everything on our list, things were going well (by this I mean nobody tried to pluck my kids out of the cart and stroll off with them), and at this point we were just browsing. The Danger-man spotted the hummingbird feeders and started to throw a fit because, apparently, he needs one. And, the Pea, usually one to follow her brothers lead, started fussing as well. The same woman from earlier walks by and said: “I knew they weren’t as perfect as they seemed.” Call me crazy but, I still kind of think this was a compliment. I mean, even as their mother, I know they’re certainly are not a perfect as they seem. But still, you think they seemed perfect? Unintentionally or not, that comment totally made my day.
Then the cashier tried to kill my high. She rang up all our junk, moved the rubber divider, and kept on going. When I said something to stop her she scolded me for not using the divider. You know, the one she had to move in order to get to that box of eclairs that we’re most certainly not mine (but, I kinda wish I at least claimed those). Rather than getting mad and defensive I just thought of my [seemingly] perfect kids. See, totally made my day.
rather than on aisle 6.
Let’s backtrack for a second. The weather has been shitty and according to the weather-man it was just going to get worse. So, we spent last Tuesday at the mall just to get out of the house. Mainly, we window shopped and let the kids burn off some energy in the play land. (That’s the breaks of living in the PNW. Most of the year we’re playing in the rain or holed up inside.) And, I fell in love with a purse that I didn’t need. Eric tried to convince me to buy it but I balked. (I can think of a trillion other things that we actually need and a new purse isn’t one of them. Besides, after a year of lugging a diaper bag, any purse will do. Even an old one from the bottom of the closet will seem brand new again.) And, I was a little bit proud of myself for walking away.
Two days later, Eric ran home on his lunch-break because the Pea turned into a poo-cano, reminiscent of her newborn days, and we needed pedialyte. I answered his knock and he was standing on the porch with pedialyte and Starbucks (my hero!) And the purse. (Sometimes he’s just too good to be true.) After that, the peanut butter and jelly I threw together for him seemed a bit inadequate.
The weather hadn’t gotten much better but we decided a venture out of the house was long overdue. We ended up at the Kennedy School. It’s one of our favorite places to go. (Old elementary school turned hotel/restaurant/ bar with a cheap movie theater and a heated soaking pool. Can’t get any better.) We love to catch a movie during mommy matinée and snarf down some pizza and pitcher of lemonade.
We had a ton of fun. The Danger-man brought his pocket-sized light saber so he could pretend it was a wand. He would brandish it and whisper ‘stupify’ inbetween handfuls of popcorn. The Pea thought it was awesome to try to shove tiny fist-full of popcorn down Eric’s throat. When that became boring she decided to try to see how full she could make my cheeks. (She’s already so good at sharing, right?) But, that’s not the point.
The point? After the movie, I threw the Pea’s sippy cup into my beautiful new purse. It was full. And the lid? Apparently it wasn’t screwed on tightly. We stopped our front to pose for pictures and I pulled out my camera and lemonade was literally pouring out of around the buttons. The entire bottom of my purse was soaked and now stained.
Forget the kids, I was the one who had a meltdown this time. I mean, I don’t throw myself on the ground kicking and screaming but, I might as well. Seriously. And, forget the purse, I love it anyway. My camera on the other hand? Toast.