Stirring myself

As I've said many a time, the real success of Eric's and my parenting is that we've managed to raised our kids with zero expectations. As I recently told Abby, there are parents out there who actually do stuff with their kids: Plan activities, play games, give treats, and go on adventures... and then there's her father and me. Look, having kids is exhausting. I've given up sleep, and personal desires, and the last bit of milk that would have been ever so tasty in my coffee... and now you want me to pay extra attention to them?

What the hell, man?

Actually, Eric recently read this generation of kids is the most pampered since the Ming Dynasty. Well, everyone but my kids, I guess. And even they aren't doing so bad.

So all of that is to say that somehow I let Johanna rope me into taking her to the school's Friday Skate Night yesterday. I'm not sure who thought getting a huge group of kids together in the gym and putting them on wheels while pumping in loud pop music was a good idea, but the school has been doing it for years and apparently no one has ever questioned it.

source

Abby was never interested and she never went ever in all her years there, or maybe she was interested and I just didn't notice because we had a baby in the house and everything between 2004-2010 is kind of a blur.

But Johanna is all about movement. And the kid is fearless. Actually it would be kind of awesome if she had a little caution to temper the unabashed enthusiasm, but you can't have everything.

I took her once last year and it was horrifying. Well, she had no idea what she was doing, so I had to run around with her on my arm to help her get the feel of it before some of her more skating-pro friends turned up and took over the job themselves. Squished toes is what I'm saying, added to the usual headache that groups of children normally produce.

This was the first skate night of the season, so you know that means we're in for a long haul. Anyway, though, the kid had a ball. They've been skating on Mondays at her after-school care program, except half the time she doesn't wear socks and can't participate (her feet get hot, she hates socks, who cares if it's twenty degrees outside?), but she kept mostly on her feet and even entered a "race" with her fellow second grade girls and took third. Or fourth. She wasn't sure, but she was thrilled.

Also: I got to sing along to "Call Me Maybe," which is pretty catchy.

Anyway, I guess it wasn't so bad. I mean, it was cold in the gym, and the music was terrible, and Johanna kept crashing into my legs every time she came around to where I was sitting, but aside from THAT, seeing all the laughing, happy people? Especially my kid? That was cool.

Open spaces

source

Sometimes I look to declutter, and sometimes decluttering finds me.

Last week Eric took time off from work to paint the hallway and living/dining/kitchen areas. We'll call this the Sort Of Remodel Project for future reference, okay? Because we're not tearing down walls or anything, just making some (much needed) cosmetic changes. Anyway, he had to take down all the knickknacks I'd put on top of the kitchen cupboards and this... well, shelf thing he created out of dead space when we built the house specifically for displaying items.

My first thought: Gross, this stuff is dusty.

My second thought: Huh. I really like all that open space.

So. There's been a lot of washing and sorting going on. There are items I've been displaying for lack of cupboard space because they're "too pretty" to get rid of. And they were wedding gifts. Um, but the days of keeping stuff just to keep it are over, so I'm being very practical about it. And it's not even that challenging. I've decided to keep a couple of our collections--some cool lanterns, a few crystal vases that look pretty in the light--and let the rest go.

I've also decided I really like our empty walls, but I don't think Eric is going to go for that. Well, not that I want them completely blank anyway--I love the girls' baby pictures, and we have some new family shots I'd like to display. When we moved into our house ten years ago, we hung pictures "for now," thinking we'd go back and arrange things differently later, when we had time. Ha! Like that ever happens. So this time around we'll do it right.

I'm excited about that.

I'm also excited about the church rummage sale in June because wow, the piles are getting kind of alarming. Maybe it's time to start up the classified ads again?

P.S. Happy 90th birthday, Gramps!

A pointless beginning

source

Sorry, sorry, sorry, I meant to write yesterday because it was 1/3/13 and that's just sort of awesome, but the thing is, I'm reading a really great series and I haven't been in the mood to do anything more than sit in a corner wrapped in a quilt and devour the things one by one. Um, no, not 50 Shades of Grey. I haven't yet and I have no plans to, either, because I have a block about reading books that are "popular" just because they're "popular." You know why? Bridges of Madison County, that's why. That was a hard lesson, but a necessary one. I'm still mad I wasted the two hours it took me to read that thing. I was waiting for it to get better, but it just got worse and worse. Just thinking about it makes me want to punch the wall. And I'm not even a violent person.

Wait, what was I talking about? Oh, never mind.

Johanna keeps wondering if 13 is an unlucky number, and I keep telling her no. What is kind of hilarious about that is that for a long, long time, I was terrified of the number 13. Dumb in retrospect, but I was a kid, so, you know, everything I did was dumb. Anyway, then Johanna was born on the 13th, and suddenly it became one of my favorite numbers ever. Thirteen, twenty-seven, thirty. Johanna, Abby, Eric. Numbers are pretty boring, but those I like.

Although I should probably get it out there that the girls have been out of school now for two weeks, and Eric took this week off to paint the living room/kitchen/hallway, and my mental facilities are beginning to sag. And I'm on head meds and everything, so that's really saying something.

In conclusion I'd like to point out that I have no New Year's resolutions to speak of. I've heard about people picking a word to help guide them through the year, a theme, if you will. So I thought maybe "light" or "mercy," you know, like being all loving and forgiving and happy and open. Except then I went to the grocery store yesterday and the lady in front of me was a jerk. I've already failed is what I'm saying. So forget that. P.S. MENTALLY failed, because confrontation is not my strong point. Obviously.

The end.