Rehearsing and rehearsing

Tonight I had the first rehearsal since we started our travel preparations last week. Rehearsals allow the mind to fall into a kind of groove where escape from mundane streams of self-conscious thought is possible. The same happens when I run and sometimes on a long drive with a good soundtrack.

I found my thoughts wandering through the things we have piled up. I donated a carload today, and prepared another for the garbage and recycling. Every day this week we have purged huge bags of junk from the house, paring down what we have so we will use everything we keep. Most of it was outgrown, used up, written-on and had served a purpose.

Just to mix things up, this IS a before picture.

At the start of the day you couldn't walk through our garage, and now everything is back in its place. It's amazing what you can do with a few episodes of Little House on the Prairie, two helpful kids and some Diet Coke.

Upstairs is a pile of ALL the things we've been told we'll need and that might help Primrose become a Ward with the least discomfort jumbled in a large brown splayed suitcase. It's a suitcase so big we normally use it for our scuba gear. 

So tonight as we worked through what was frankly a slow rehearsal, I daydreamed about organizing all of that stuff and it dawned on me that this is nesting. Nesting is rehearsing. I didn't expect to feel such strong urges to do stuff to our house and our things without the hormones of a pregnancy spurring me on. 

Why does it feel so necessary?

We are being given a gift in this daughter. Part of the reason we are allowed this gift is because we are privileged to live in relative wealth and security. I feel an obligation to be sure I don't take those gifts for granted. I might have said that was true before, but it is so much more real to me in light of gaining a child through adoption. She has been monumentally UNlucky in her life. It's only because we are in an imperfect world and loss exists that any child needs adoption. It's the definition of injustice that a child is born in need of surgery and a family may not be able to provide it without relinquishing the child entirely. To we who have been given so much, well, we oughta at least tidy up the place. When she's 12 and her room's a mess it won't register any more and let's face it; our garage will be gross again long before that. But... before we leave on this trip, there is this shining moment when at least our things can be ready and it will make me feel ready. 

I have a secret conviction that out there somewhere, on somebody's blog or some agency's website, there is a story or a packing list that might tell us what we need to know. Unfortunately, we won't realize what it was until we get home so for now I guess I'll just have to read the whole thing. I need the internet to tell me how it's gonna be when we have her in our arms. 

When the truth is you can't possibly know what to do to get ready, it feels good to read the internet until two in the morning and disinfect the garage floor with clorox wipes. Despite the ludicrous ideas that I can become deserving of this gift and that if I prepare correctly I'll be proven worthy, it is so far from reality that even I know this is true instead:

Proverbs 10:22 

The Lord’s blessing enriches,

and struggle adds nothing to it.

(... but I still love that the camp art supply bins are labeled and stacked.)

Porch Update

Today was glorious, and it was all thanks to the fantastic porch-over of 2014 (yes, I just linked to the post written like two days before this one). Shall I show you why?

TA DA!!

We made fire! And ripped out ugly plants, revealing an even uglier Rubbermaid Tub!

The next part... you won't believe. We had a real live adult over. With wine and veggie burgers and everything. Sure, we sat around wrangling quickbooks for our music academy and she's taking over the reigns for the two weeks we're in China. She may work with us, but paying our friends to come over isn't wrong or I don't want to be right.

Yesterday they just wanted to be left out here to hang
out, eat peaches and read Calvin & Hobbes. 

In short, having an extra room has been pretty sweet. I have to say that the $200+ we spent putting it together has been worth it. Just think- it's been 90 or hotter for weeks now, my fluorescent pale family has spent hours outside, and no one is blistered! Win, win, win.

I have conquered one homeschool corner of my life. Literally. (Like, "literally" literally.)

If I'm not careful, this may feel like a home design blog, what with this being the second of two whole no-skills-required make-over posts so far. Somebody stop me!

Today's project is our homeschool area. It doubles as our breakfast area and our storing art supplies area. It also attracts crumbs and unsharpened pencils. It's well-rounded that way.

Before I started, it was a jumble of abandoned curriculum, dog-eared writing books, and squelched dreams. Also it was gross and dusty. The kind of dust with hair and bits of colored pencils in it, not the shiny "internet home stylist" dust you see on the other blogs.

WARNING: This is not a before picture. 

A shocking revelation: that pic above is not taken when the project was yet to begin, a perfectly chaotic "before". It was taken when the one tidied corner was all fabulously done. I think this is the problem with reading people's descriptions of how they live as presented to the internet: we curate. As humans, we can't help it: we prefer to carefully select everything others see about us.

So: try not to compare yourself to fake others. I don't have a 5 step plan on how to achieve this because I'm terrible about it myself. I can say it feels nice, though, to show you my messy pit of a dining room table instead of making myself feel fancy. I can tell you that much.

Speaking of fancy, here it is, exciting and new:

Our art teacher at camp had jars for her pencils and I liked the way they looked... 

I didn't know I'd be doing this project until I ran into those pencil-bins at IKEA. I was unprepared to fend them off, and I'm not even sorry. The little s-hooks on the left are perfect for all our memory-work cards. I can already hear myself ordering the boys to grab their cards and practice while I go change a diaper or drink a diet coke or something. The bins lift off the hanging bar and sit level on the table. Isaac in particular will like being in charge of getting those & putting them back. 

The beating heart of our future college applications.

In case an actual homeschooler is reading this, here is the driving philosophy behind my homeschool gear organization: I want it to be really easy for the boys to put their crap BACK where it goes. It may not look like much, but the square one down on the left is the most important one in this entire room, maybe this entire house. It has three cheap cardboard magazine organizers in it- one for each kid and an extra for my worksheets and stuff (dot to dots, letter tracing) to throw at them when I need a few extra minutes with somebody else. 

The boys grab their own books for whatever subject is next, and they can clear the table when they're done. As the school year went on last year, I was surprised to see the boys were pretty good at keeping things in their bins. They ONLY put their own workbooks, writing paper & worksheets in there and it means we (usually) don't have to worry about where the math book went... not a good situation when I'm trying to also make coffee and get the day off to a non-yelling start. 

The hat belonged to Jonathan's grandpa. The jar is full of discarded bee's nests.
The Boba Fett guy is our clock. He shoots me with a laser when we're late for swimming.

This year in our Classical Conversations homeschool group we're on Cycle 3 which means we'll be studying human anatomy, so the body puzzle guy and the brain model guy will get lots of play. We'll also break out our sliding glass door sticker map of the United States, adding the states as we memorize them. I store the supplemental material for each of the cycle years in a bin in the garage until their time comes. Rotating through what you have on display & in use is helpful in townhouse living but flat-out required in townhouse homeschooling.

In case you're curious, how about a quick ramble about how we homeschool? We do 3 to 4 hours of schooling with the boys. Since they're still pretty little (1st and 3rd grade), it's been easy to get our main subjects done in that time. Math, writing, reading, grammar, memory work, Bible, Art, and Science. They do swimming for PE and play instruments. We do all that from about 9-12:30, then get ready for swimming or music lessons. One day a week during the school year we go to our homeschool group.

In the afternoons, they have free play time. They often make up elaborate stories together involving Legos and stuffed animals. Pokemon cards are their newest passion. I like for them to be responsible for entertaining themselves and for them to have unscheduled down time on a regular basis. Lately I've even found them reading books in the wild. I've also found them bickering and manipulating one another, but that's just the cluttered side of the table right there.

Isaac showing Grandpa Mike how to play Pokemon.
Strangely enough, Isaac won every single game that weekend...

They don't watch TV much and almost never during the day. They are easily freaked out or influenced by the stuff they watch, so we limit them on content quite a bit. They do like movies and sometimes watch a show while I teach one night a week. I have a confession about the TV thing. Deep down, I know it would so easily take over our entire lives. Remember that one scene in Lord of the Rings where Cate Blanchette and her excellent hair explain that she can't have the ring or all the world will love her and despair? That could be my family, planted in front of the TV in love and despair as we turn into brainless piles of average goo. It would probably feel quite nice, but I just can't handle the guilt.

So that's our homeschool space, and an outline of our homeschool day.

Making the most of every inch...

We live in a townhouse. It's a nice townhouse, we have quiet friendly neighbors, and it's on a dead-end street that leads to a secret path and a field full of blackberry treasure and winter adventure walks. Someday we'll have a place with actual space around it, maybe a few acres to grow some food and build a treehouse or two. For now, it's awfully nice to never mow a lawn or worry about leaving our house empty with all our travels.

So, all that aside: it is feeling tiny lately. I wonder how well it will function with another little set of feet running around. I have always wanted the boys to be able to play outside but because our unit is at the entrance driveway of the complex, it's not possible for them to play freely in front.

The back, well, the back has been like this for 8 years:

This is actually the tidied-up version.
There were spider webs from the 80's up in there,
little spider VCRs plugged and set to record Cheers.

Hey, if you look past OUR deck, you can see that the neighbor's is pretty cute. 

That HOA-provided bark mulch on the ground is the stickery kind (that's my Eeyore voice right there).

So doing something with the porch has been a theme conversation in our house since the first day we walked through it. At one point when the boys were littler we had a rocket-shaped chicken-wire fort dug into the dirt. Another year we had a sand bin, but two year-old Isaac would not stop eating by the shovel-full it so we threw that out. After that, it pretty much became a lousy unused space for close to 3 years. Every once in a while I would raise my head, grumble a bit about it sucking back there, then get distracted and not do anything to make it better.

This summer, with a new kid coming to our space, I am finding my need to make every inch count has finally spurred me to action. Lots of action. I mean, I cleaned out the whole pantry cabinet, our big living room sideboard, re-did part of our homeschool. People, I taught the boys how to alphabetize using our whole kids dvd collection as the practice zone. I'm a little obsessed. The nesting has pushed out into the porch rather than into a specific room for her since she'll probably start out in our room anyway.

So adding to the chairs and an umbrella we had bought (but never put in a holder or raised), I found a cute outdoor rug at Walmart and a few other fun things at TJ Maxx.

The main porch is just about complete, and we have been using it every night. This is a great thing, a new space! Isaac in particular loves being out here.

I figured it was as good as it would get, since the part of the yard off the deck is a dirty weedy stickery mess slowly being washed away by lousy gutters when it rains. Then yesterday I made a great find at IKEA: they have plastic snap-together decking in packs of 9 for $25. It turns out I could have gotten away with one pack, but having two makes the space look better/larger.

Now that it's on the internet I realize the pattern is
not in keeping with my usual OCD tendencies.
And I'm not going to fix it. Well, not tonight, anyway. 

Those of you concerned with physics and flammable objects should know we haven't actually lit the BBQ in around 4 years so the ridiculously overgrown shrub and our A/C intake is in no danger... yet. I am thinking of ripping out the sadly hollow-backed bush (take that, Gwen Stefani!) so we can put the bbq in its spot and actually, y'know, cook stuff on it. Maybe we could even cultivate some grown-people friends to invite over. Anything is possible.

Clowns added for size comparison.

At least we made it!

I took this with my phone about 10 minutes away from J's office Halloween Party. Both boys were so tired, and even when we stopped the car, opened the doors and started stuffing their warm & sticky little boy feet into their shoes they STILL didn't wake up. We had to use the c-word. ("CANDY!")

It was better than last year, when I tragically took too long to make a diaper box into a car costume for Toby and missed the party all together. That made me grumpy for a good week.

We had two ginormous pumpkins- in fact we still have their carcasses and guts all over our driveway. I'm sure the HOA is impressed. The are big enough that the boys can sit inside each and pretend they're on a train. Except Isaac is too prissy and doesn't like the feel of cold pumpkin all around him.

On another uncomfortable note... I spoke to one of the leaders of our church today. Ours is a church that believes over-programming is a real problem and that giving people pre-set ways to plug into a church can be detrimental to building true relationships among believers. I'm not sure I'm representing that fully, but there doesn't really seem to be a set statement available about this kind of philosophy. They use the word "organic" a lot and they emphasize connecting through House Churches. For our house church we go twice a month to a house about 3 miles from our own to worship, learn a bit more about the sermon and pray for each other. I love our House Church, but the reason I went to chat with the leader was that it just wasn't cutting it for me as far as bible study or connection with other moms in particular.

The chat I had went pretty much as I thought it would. She outlined their view again, and made clear that the church is not likely to change any of this any time soon. (I.E. They aren't going to let me start a bible study for moms and use their website to link people together.) I think at my most strident I said something about people with addictions and depression getting more help than young moms. But then I've been known to dabble in the dramatic from time to time, and I honestly did come around to their way of thinking at least a little.

It's true that if they provided a group for me to just show up and be a part of, I most likely would NOT be looking for relationships with people from the church on my own. And it's entirely possible that we would never have gone to House Church if I hadn't pestered J because I was going nuts without any community outside of tiny demanding people who share a large part of my DNA. So I would feel better and more connected but my family might not be and the church's vision for House Churches would become further from reality.

I am not fully convinced, but I'm willing to "give it six more months" as requested by the leadership. I still think parenthood, especially with preschoolers, is a demanding and challenging time. It's supposed to be a great time to set up habits and understanding of God in your child and I would love our church to give me direction there. We chose this church because of the fantastic preaching. Absolutely outstanding doctrine- and plenty of it each week to keep my own study lively just by looking into all the reference verses they give. You can find podcasts here.

Snow week

I can be totally smug and annoying about having grown up in Fairbanks.

You have to give me some credit for living up there through high school though, right? At the time we kids jumped at the chance to possibly sacrifice our extremities in order to wear penny loafers sockless at -60, just as God intended. Nobody complained much. Even the adults carried on as though we were living someplace habitable, allowing the formation of a football team for about 2 games before the field was flooded for its real purpose as an outdoor hockey rink. It was them, not us, who announced an Aloha Day each year in January. Don't tell me they couldn't see that prank fire alarm pull coming. Must be they secretly enjoyed seeing the cheerleaders lined up outside at -40 with nothing but their coolness to keep their flip-flopping hula-beskirted butts warm.

As I was saying, I can be insufferable about the winter weakness of Portlanders. Who can blame me when they close school for an entire week for four inches of snow received on Sunday? And the news weather men? Well, I myself have never actually seen the producer stuffing their pockets with promotion dough whenever they declare a "snow EVENT", but I'm pretty sure I can see the dollar signs reflected in their petulant eyes.

This week, though. This week those ninnies were right.

It snowed a bunch and it stuck. Both snow events (I'm picking up the lingo as best I can) are rare here. Then it sat still and developed an ice crust and then this stuff fell from the sky that called itself rain, but it was 24 degrees out so it just mated with the ice crust and multiplied. That was fun, big crunchy steps made instant jagged daggers Toby kept calling strawberry pizza as he shoveled it into his mouth. Whattaya know, weirdo genes do make more weirdos.

So up to this point I was traipsing around town, making up reasons to drive around and ridicule others. The malls were practically empty, which is my favorite flavor. But then it snowed again. And again. And now we have, like, over a foot of snow with a hard layer in the middle and I am going to have to call Uncle! and say, yes, Portland, this has indeed been the Winter Snow Event 2009.

My Budget Plan for 2009

Here's a quote I put on the back of a photo in our Christmas cards, and I am sticking an extra one in my wallet to remind me not to spend all my money on junk because then when I pull it out for some cute turtle I'll be sad to realize I've only got lint*.

"The very nature of Joy makes
nonsense of our common distinction
between having and wanting."
~C. S. Lewis

Toby is eating snow and Isaac is wishing he could. I am just thinking, Man, I wish we could figure out a way to get J in this picture without digging out the tripod.



*Anybody else old enough to remember that educational cartoon, yo?

Tapped out.

I'm feeling really crusty and dried up inside, my brain is practically rattling out of my head like a stray kernel of rice shaken off a high chair cover on sushi night.

We're heading to Montana, beating a hasty retreat to the land of (another set of) doting grandparents. I'm looking forward to hours of both imps strapped safely into carseats. Don't tell any good parents, but I'm bringing earplugs and I'll be snoring by the time we hit the Gorge for sure.

Happy Thanksgiving if I don't make it back by here.

Toby would like to thank God for the bees, rainbows, Jesus, and wheels that go around and around.
Amen.

It's happening again...

I can totally agree with those types who want to slow down the holiday season, to take time and savor a few shining events with loved ones rather than pack in a shindig a day like a girl scout on her way to her Domestic Overcommitment badge. I see the idea of orchestrated simplicity in my family life fly past on my way to reality every November or so. In fact every single month I get a couple of beautiful magazines packed with somebody's long-massaged idea about how to make every corner of my life a paradigm of organized loveliness. Your home represents you, your schedule displays what you value, the enlightened move calmly from moment to carefully cherished moment and you better too, they confide tastefully from within their manicured covers.

Zaniness at this time of year is just the way it is when you are a classical musician. Even folks who don't have much of a relationship with the great composers and all the variety of styles within the big C will recognize bits of the Messiah and think of the holidays. They make a tradition of going to a holiday concert, so we put on a bazillion concerts at the holidays. As a Christian I think it has something to do with people's inbuilt desire to be a part of creative endeavors and to celebrate something corporately. Of course if you really want to get into worship and music in popular culture, there's always rock.

I see another striking similarity between classical music and religion in that people like it for the ceremony. There is muted controversy there, some classical musicians bucking for a collective toss to the dumpster of their formal tails and fussy hall atmospheres. (I myself let it all hang out here whenever possible.) The entire relevant church movement (from the very earliest days to right this postmodern second) are in the same kind of battle between respecting tradition and finding modern immediacy in their expressions.

I had a little epiphany the other day at a bar watching some folks struggle through a very late Beethoven movement. It's THE Beethoven movement, actually. It is life and death, consonance and dissonance all wrapped up and knitted together with complex strands the way only Beethoven and little sonny Jesus ever could. Some members of this group had a tougher time than others and yes, there are moments in any performance of this nature where the listener is just hoping they make it through to the next phrase and get on with it. But as I sat there watching them help each other through and heard them come to more than one True thing.

Whatever you do this season, however busy you get, my advice is to cling to those odd moments when things are True and run with them. For me at this season, simplicity is a myth but Truth is everywhere.

Mama's leetle friend.

Last week we met Piccolo*, a student at the college where I teach who likes to babysit. She came over while I was home, I went upstairs in my slippers with my coffee and practiced for 2 1/2 hours. In a row. Alone. I also did a load of laundry, ran the dishwasher and cleaned the toilets. Alone.

This week I painted some furniture, organized dinner, went through all of Isaac's clothes and agreed to a gig. Alone.

It is so incredibly rejuvenating, I cannot tell you how much those few hours mean to me. She's great. She reads to them, keeps Toby in line and makes Isaac giggle. I made her coffee, fed Isaac (duh) and even changed both boys' diapers over the course of the morning. She would, but I'm flitting around anyway and I know they both excel at wrestling. Still, that little window of time when I know I'll be able to do my own thing... it's like a shower after camping.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not dreaming of time away from my boys and we would not have a nanny even if we were the Warbucks. There is no doubt in my mind that it's a big deal to be able to be with them and not schlepping off to some factory or working nights. But I am totally certain that this makes me a better mom. I'm pretty sure they like seeing a different face every once in a while, too.

My parents (and J's too, when they're in town!) have also had a profound impact on these first years for our family. They spend four or five hours with the boys on my teaching days- and on the zillions of other days when we make up a reason to head their way. I can't imagine doing this on my own, and I'm just floored with gratitude for all these people helping us along the way.


*Not her real name, and not a descriptor- to the contrary, she's laid-back. Seems more like a clarinetist but who am I to tell her she plays the wrong instrument. That comes next week...

Vrrrroooooom there goes my ego.

Lots of people have noticed that having little kids around makes holidays more fun, and it's one of the few things you hear about parenting that is entirely true. It's cool to have an excuse to spoil them and break our schedule, and it's neat to have a reminder to emphasize whatever it is you like best about each day.

It's also fun for me to indulge my crafty, time-consuming wonts. I made Toby a big diaper-box model of his favorite car (a green Dodge Charger), which he promptly refused to wear despite his deep love "It's YOUR car, for You." Pronouns are tricksters for the two year old mind.

Funny thing about Toby's costume. It actually kinda made us miss Halloween. I lost myself in the green felt and black duct tape so much that I let the boys sleep extra long in their naps and we got a late start driving to J's office for the annual cute-kid parade & candy fest. I was honestly really annoyed and disappointed about that, but there's not much you can do when you leave only 35 minutes for a 50 minute drive. Part of me was so selfish as to think I shouldn't have bothered making the dang costume in the first place... until I saw Toby playing with it. He really hasn't stopped playing with it since that night. He's asked to take it to bed. The point is, was I making it for him or to show off to a bunch of near-strangers? In the end I decided a little self-indulgence is okay, but real joy in parenting comes when you give selflessly, just like in real life. Even if he hadn't loved it, I did enjoy the making, and thinking about his cute little proclivities all along.

Isaac was a pumpkin (99 cents last year from Old Navy!), and I could have died from the cuteness when Toby kept calling him "punkin', he's a little punkin' in derrr". I am such a sucker- you'll have to remind me not to fall for their adorable scams when they're older. Like next year.

Toby had his first bunch of candy and as far as I can tell he likes berries, rice popcorn and hot dogs better. He did like the Skittles but went around the room feeding them to all of us, so it must not have been as mindblowing as the actual fruits. He also had some rad bugs to play with from Gramma.

Back in the day...

I was the worst mom at pre-preschool today.

1. We were late.
2. I forgot his bag with the all-important diaper and cup.
3. His nose apparently ran.
4. Quite a bit.
5. I was the last mom to pick up.

Thankfully he's not embarrassable yet. Soon.

He had only one melt-down today, when I tried to leave his favorite unfoldy pop-uppy car wash toy thingy on the hood of the Jeep as we drove off. I couldn't even figure out what he was pointing at while waling for a second or two. After I retrieved it he kept saying in a soft voice to himself, "of course we won't leave it, Buddy".

I caught myself asking Isaac to put his arms through the carseat straps. One, he doesn't know any of those words or have the neurons to rub together and Two, he wouldn't do it if he could- he hates that thing.

At one time I had a functional brain.

Happy Father's Day

Father's day was fun.

We used it as an excuse to grill with my parents, which developed into an excuse to make strawberry ice cream and drink Black Butte Porter with my mom. Not that we need an excuse.

We reminisced and I realized yet again that I hope J and I can give our boys even some portion of the fun we had while growing up with our parents. Go ahead, roll your eyes internet. My college friend said we sounded like the Brady Bunch. Looking back I can hear the tinge of longing in her voice, but at the time I felt like it was just one more way in which I was a goody two shoes from a freakishly small town.

The rarity of our intact and more importantly enjoyable families isn't lost on us. Usually. Unless you're talking about me in Junior High, in which case I'll plead the fifth...

Hope you had a good day, too.

Well, I never.

It would be nice if, after calling and asking to see our house in 20 minutes, house hunters would at least come inside and have a look. I know it's not their fault that I ran around for 19 minutes tidying, picking up and shoving the boys (one of whom I woke from a nap) into the Jeep. But still, you could pretend you want to see it as I'm driving away instead of sitting in the driveway talking about the next place on your list.

At least the place was in order, if only for that one shining moment.

Do you think free viola lessons for a year with the purchase of our home would be an incentive or disincentive?

Was that it?

Was that the longest I've gone without posting? I hope so.

So what's up with you, outside world?

In our little compound it's all about placating the insane and caring for the incapacitated. Two and a half is an interesting mental arena. Nine weeks of age can be summed up as a constant state of leakage. I can truly say it keeps me busy.

I'm in the fantastic dreams and daydreams stage of post-partumdom. I hated it last time, and this time it's even peachier. Most nights just as I'm falling asleep a short scene plays doubletime, something like the opening of CSI or House but it horrifically stars either one or both of my boys. I see what's coming usually and can stop it from playing out in my hormone-pickled brain, but still it's no fun. I'll be glad when whatever gland's going off gets itself stabilized.

Whew. Well, I've been asked to come outside and clean up the 'piders. One of life's deepest pleasures has to be having a toddler come take your hand to assist in a task or complete an adventure. Sometimes it's empty webs or flecks of dirt, sometimes there are actual arachnids involved when he mentions his beloved bugs, so I better go see.

Snapshot (snapshot not included)

Tonight J went for a long bike ride. It's beautiful here, mid seventies and the air feels luscious. I noticed it because it's spring, but soon I'll be taking the lusciousness for granted.

So off he pedaled with my blessing.

And what did I decide, with the day drawing to a close and the boys appropriately groggy from a day well-played? What else, but that it was time to cut Toby's hippie shag hair.

I had it all worked out in my mind, but what it became was not so tidy. At the height of the makeover, Toby's golden mane was flecked with blood from my overzealous index finger and he was steadfastly picking hair off his icee while Cars blared from the TV. Isaac was fully involved in one of his best cries yet- and that's saying something- while strapped into the inexorable baby swing. I realized as he lost it that a swing is nothing but a brightly colored automaton. I hate automatons. Gah.

So upstairs we all went, in two trips, to wash off the hair and blood and high fructose corn syrup. Toby enjoyed his bath at least as much as any other and is growing impervious to his brother's protests. I bounced the one with my foot while pajama-ing the other, prayed through increasing fussing and went through our blanket ritual despite full-tilt cryage from the newby.

I thought if someone could see nothing but my silhouette in those moments, I would look like a clown spinning a hoop on my foot while creating a whole balloon zoo with my hands. There would even be what looked like acrobatics thrown in from time to time as I reach for whatever is constantly not there- the wipes, the desitin, my martini.

So that was my evening. J returned glorious and sweaty just as the laundry began its hairy spin and the vacuum finished gagging on the remains of the Farrah Faucet tribute that Toby once maintained.

And he made me a real martini. It's right here, just inches from my hand, and everyone under 3 is asleep.

Time for some wild hot....zzzzz.

JXY

My man he is manly. I have several examples to support this conclusion: I can show the world it's not my bias talking.

ONE
Witness this morning's match pitting him against the massive pile of twisty phone line that is the Community Center Sign Up Day. I dialed for two pleasantly mind-numbing hours, from just before 8 am. I can recite the exact tone and inflection with which the woman kept answering, "All circuits are busy now...".

But my man, he dialed the land line and his cell phone like a pro. If our lives are ever made into a movie, his dialing will be slo-mo and will include percussive explosion sounds for emphasis as his fingers depress the buttons with such testosterone and focus. So of course he got through. And we got all of our classes- take that, other moms desperate for a slot in Teacher Laurie's Friday class.

TWO
Last night I played a concert. Isaac won't be the magical age of bottle-suckage (four weekies) until Sunday night. So he cried and cried for the last little bit of waiting, maybe from hunger, maybe because he enjoys a good wail now and then. My man slowly lost his manly mind BUT he was nice to the banshee. When I offered to go buy him some beer, he even paused a second before subtly enquiring if the wee noodie would be accompanying me. That kind of casual restraint, it is rare and precious.

THREE
After his rough night, one which would bring any mortal man's shoulders up around his ear-holes in wound-up tension, HE rubbed MY feet.

As I type, he is rocking the Iz's bouncer to keep him pacified.

Masculine. With a million Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmms.

Works for Me! Frugal Websites

Today's Works for Me Wednesday theme from Shannon at Rocks in My Dryer is all about websites.

My current favorite websites are about living within your means. My definition of frugality encompasses getting exactly what you want for as little outlay as possible, while avoiding buying things just because they are cheap or wasting money on things that turn out to suck. With that in mind, here are my recommendations and habits as a thrifty net citizen.

1. Getting my game on.
The ability to be frugal and remain on a budget is similar to maintaining a healthy diet and exercise regime. I need to do it in a flexibly creative way that motivates me, or I will drop it faster than a toddler can empty an unprotected tissue box. (3.52 seconds, in case you're wondering.)

One key component for me is saving money in ways that give me a sense of accomplishment. By finding sites that tell me about stuff like home design stuff I can do well myself without looking hokey, luxe baby clothes I can copy or find used, or cheap versions of material goods I can upgrade on my own, I stay in the game and want to stay on the savings wagon. Some things can't be faked, but by comparison shopping I can at least know for sure I've found a decent price. Shopping around also requires time, and denies my NOW NOW NOW impulses.

Design Mom & her sister Oh Happy Day are good places to start for my daily dose of hip things though neither include frugality in their design lust criteria. DM in particular has a great blogroll to surf through, often holds giveaways and is at least as satisfying as a subscription to a design magazine without all the piles of magazines. (I do LOVE realSimple, though!)

Sweet Juniper, a talented SAHD writer ex-lawyer, talks about finding great stuff at thrift stores in Detroit so rapturously you can't help getting caught up in his vibe, and about being thrifty as a cultural heritage.

From there, if I need more creativity inspirations I look at sites about whatever it is I'm focused on at the moment. Lately that's been Apartment Therapy, Martha Stewart and Strobist. Find what you like, and look around to see what other people have come up with. Don't be turned off by big price-tags; look for items that might work in your own home and could be copied or emulated DIY. If it turns out to be something worth saving up for, then you'll know where to find it when you're ready.

2. Actual advice on living cheaply
I've recently discovered Want Not, which is a site written by the very pretty Mir (short for GUESS WHAT most awesome name?!). She posts daily on all sorts of deals, coupons and sales at both online and brick-n-mortar shops. She also posts often on her level-headed financial philosophy and between her and her savvy commenters I have picked up some good tips. Frugal Hacks, Parent Hacks and Dave Ramsay's anti-debt site are other good bets.

3. Sites where I am a regular customer
Craigslist, baby. In-person, local, cash-only, no-surprises is made for me. I've bought and sold high-end furniture, strollers, and musical instruments there. (My family jokes about finding their Christmas gifts posted there but I swear I haven't done that... at least not with anything they gave me!) My current favorite searches include "murphy" (we want to build a wall bed for our guest BR queen), "joovy", "tandem" and "double" (we're looking for a schmancy double stroller but I'm allergic to paying $280 for one). I've seen some really neat things go through the free pages, but in Portland you have to be VERY fast on the trigger to snatch those puppies so I hardly even look at that section anymore. Some folks swear by FreeCycle, but I found it annoying. Restaurant.com has some great deals, especially when they have a coupon special for 60% off their vouchers. I like the sites everyone else goes to, like Amazon and iTunes, but it has to be a pretty serious deal for me to actually pull the trigger and buy from them.

4. Research
I often search the internet for thrift and resale shops in my area, and even at retail I like to know before going anywhere in person what the going rates are for things I'm hoping to find. The customer reviews & ratings at bigger sales sites are invaluable. I don't go to five grocery stores or do a ton of coupon printing (though I do clip from the paper) like some hard-core frugal folk, but if something costs more than $20 I usually compare prices online.

The internet is filthy with frugal parenting and how-to-stay-home mom sites. Some are better written and more regularly updated than others, but a quick trip through a few blogrolls should yield a crop you like. One site I found linked from who knows where is A Year Off, in which a family strives to get rid of anything extra and avoid bringing new crap into their lives for a year. They aren't doing it to save money, but the principal of living in moderation is a good one.

5. Conclusions
Finding inspiration, goods, philosophies, ratings and hacks is pretty much what the internet was born for. Keep your eyes open and your cynicism on high, and you can find some great tools. Cheaper is not always more intelligent in the long run, if it turns out to be junk. Budgets need room to build a life you enjoy, and that shouldn't be impossible if you calmly pick your indulgences & apply your throbbing brainpower.

Or maybe I'm just lazy...

I think I'm becoming a Mennonite. Y'know, the long-skirted, long-haired (but always with the one-curl bangs, what's with that?) flowery gingham bedecked perpetually with-child ladies so common in rural areas?

You see, the problem is I am truly enjoying doing the grocery shopping less often. Like every other week. Maybe only once a month if I were a little more organized and had a bigger compound freezer. AND I used 30 coupons in one transaction today. Thir.ty. Wouldn't you love to be the dude behind me in line? So if the next time we bump into each other in Costco (where I don't even beLONG but I have blood relative contacts who share their account- our sect is tight like that) I'm wearing white sneakers and a denim skirt, a big tan fake leather purse and my cart looks like it's Y2K all over again, callll the poliiiice.

Works for Me!

I've recently discovered a blog called Rocks in My Dryer. The author has a great thing going, where every Wednesday she hosts a blog carnival called Works for Me Wednesday, and people post suggestions on how to make life a little easier. I love going through the links- it usually takes me a couple days to get through the ones that catch my fancy. Plus, how smart is she with the idea-generating and hosting?

So here's my first post for WFMW.

Two year old Toby is tall enough and smart enough that he's now able to open our front door on his own, even when I lock the deadbolt. And as I like my heart to beat in a generally steady pattern, undisturbed by the whoosh of realization that he has escaped and is careening toward the street much faster than this pregnant lady can waddle, something had to be done. We'd rather not mess with installing any additional locks, lasers or stunning devices, so when this excellent set of bells came to me at Christmas, I knew just what to do.


He plays with them occasionally, yes, but after the first few days I expect he'll forget about them and they will only jingle when he's on the run. It's the jingle + silence that you're dreading listening for, anyway.

Any kind of bells would work, and if you are really smart and attach them (maybe with a wreath hook?) high up, the kid couldn't even fake you out by playing with them. Jingling bells would forever make your heart stop just a little, too!