That House

Using a ladder to attach Christmas lights to our home seemed like a really good idea when we were really excited about Christmas. 

But now we’re in the church season of Miss Tiffany, as in, “We’re taking down our Christmas decorations because Christmas is over.  Now it’s Epiphany.”  And Rush responds, “Miss Tiffany?  Barrett’s Mom?”  (If that doesn’t make sense, say it out loud.)  And now that we’re weeks into Epiphany/Miss Tiffany, we’re weeks into being that house who still has our Christmas lights up.

A plea to future Kelly and Trent:  If putting up Christmas lights with a ladder seems like a good idea next December, please take into account that you will also have to use a ladder to take them down.

You, Specifically

Trent told me about a conversation he had a few months ago with a grandfather.  The man was writing down things about his grandchildren that were simply them.  The things that they like, the people that they are, before they get older and inevitably start absorbing things from other people and the world in general.  I’m assuming he’s going to give them the notes one day, probably around the time when an identity crisis hits.

That’s one of the things I love about being around Rush and Tate, seeing who they are.  But in the midst of brushing teeth and 3 meals and snacks and sweeping the kitchen floor again and changing sheets, it’s easy to get caught up in the responsibilities of raising children.  What is the quintessential Rush, the quintessential Tate?

Of course, it’s 9:49 on a Sunday night so my brain isn’t quite up to analyzing all the qualities of my children.  I can get as far as Rush being gentle and Tate being energetic and then my mind starts wandering and I’m wondering why I just ate a bowl of pickles (Why?  Probably a bad idea.) and talking with Trent about how the Green Bay Packers got their name.  The good news is that every day I can learn more about these little guys and who they are, and even as they start getting more and more outside influences, it’s still going to be interesting to see the things that they like and the people they become.

One of my all time favorite books is Jacob Have I Loved by Katherine Patterson.  I read it for the first time in 4th grade and read it multiple times that year.  The first time I reread it as an adult, I was so happy to not only still love it, but to recognize why 4th grade Kelly loved it so much.  It’s good to have a reminder of who I am.

While visiting my parents over Christmas I found a bag marked “KANGAROOS.”  I was really devoted to my kangaroo collection in elementary school.  I can’t figure out if having a collections was a big thing in elementary school or just something I thought was cool.  I know people had sticker collections and there was one girl who had hundreds of key chains linked together that she kept under her bed.  My own sister won a blue ribbon at the South Texas State Fair for her Coca-Cola Collection.  Yeah.  And we’re more let’s-eat-fried-boudin-balls fair people than entering-things fair people.  We certainly didn’t show any livestock.

So as I’m showing Trent all these stuffed kangaroos (oh yeah, he was impressed) and laughing about what a funny kid I was, I notice that Tate is holding a stuffed kangaroo that I bought for him the day after I found out I was pregnant with him.  Then I notice the kangaroo Pez dispenser that I bought myself as a Christmas Eve treat sticking out of my purse.  Hmmm.  I’m apparently still the same person.  The good news is that people change too, so we’re not surrounded with curio cabinets filled with ceramic kangaroos.

Yet.

More ONE

We had Tate’s first birthday party at the beach – family, a beautiful January day with the windows open, the sound of the surf,

and cupcakes.

Tate ate about six cupcakes, chomping off the top half, throwing the rest on the floor, then grabbing another.  He loved being the center of attention.

It’s a good party if you have to pause between cake and presents for a quick bath.

The party was part of a great weekend.  Both boys spent time with their cousin-

Rush started playing board games-

And we learned that Tate loves barbeque.

Falling Apples

Sometimes being both a mother and a messy person has its advantages.  Because when my child takes everything with small pieces out of the cabinet and dumps them all in a giant pile-

it doesn’t really stress me out as much as it could.  It is going to be a hassle to pick up all those toys with Rush, yet at the same time I get it.  I can totally appreciate wanting to sit in the midst of a big pile of all the things I enjoy.

I do the same thing, disguised as “re-organizing the bookshelf” or “going through my fabric.”

So the flip side to living in chaos and clutter is low stress levels. 

And I’m getting organized this year, right?

Number One

We have had so much fun with this guy over the past year.  He really pushed through the week leading up to his birthday, eating like crazy, noticeable growth spurt, and taking-off walking.

We realized over Christmas that Tate loves green bean casserole, so we had that as part of his birthday dinner.  He was still eating green beans when we sang Happy Birthday, but that didn’t slow him down.

First birthday are a big celebration for me too.  We did it!  The first year is intense, and Tate and I made it from January 11, 2011-

to January 11, 2012-

It’s a miracle in every way.  I love every minute with you, Tate.  Happy Birthday little guy!

Swiftly Fly the Years

Trent received Season 1 of Friday Night Lights on DVD for Christmas, so on Friday night we spent the hours of 9 PM to 2 AM getting totally sucked into the show.  In most movies or tv shows, I like to pick out the character who would be my boyfriend (in my dreams), an old habit I picked up while watching Growing Pains and Doogie Howser, MD.  I also always assign the goofy friend to my sister as her boyfriend.  Because Max Casella played sidekick to both Doogie Howser and Jack Kelly in Newsies, Casey is perpetually tied to Vinnie Delpino.  Now I just add him in, regardless of the show.  For example, if I’m watching Mad Men, Don Draper is my boyfriend and Casey’s is Vinnie Delpino.

Then on Friday I hit a glitch.  The person from Friday Night Lights I picked for myself was the coach.  That’s the surest, most concrete sign that I’m old.  I was watching a show about high schoolers who are played by twenty three year olds, and I’m old enough that I selected an adult as my fake tv boyfriend.  Pass the Geritol.

Do you know who else is rapidly growing up?  This guy.

Do you know what’s on his face?  1 1/2 pieces of pizza.  He’s starting to eat like a man.

His first birthday is mere days away.  And he’s waking up, so…

Sprinkling Sunshine on My Days

So far there have been three times in my adult life when I was so elated that I actually jumped up and down like a winning game show contestant.  The first time was in college when I spent the summer working at a camp.  Every week, about an hour after our high school campers arrived, we had to take a miserable three hour hike involving scavenger hunt type orienteering, gathering the pieces of our tent poles along the way.  When we finally reached the campsite and set up our tents, we cooked our dinner of hot dogs over a campfire – in July in East Texas.  The hotdogs were usually frozen, so cooking them over an open flame really just scorched the outside and left the inside frozen.  That’s not the elation part of the story. 

After the last hike on the final week of the summer, right as we arrived at the campsite, the camp director pulled us aside from the campers and told us to go take a break.  I was so happy to skip the campfire that I sprinted out of the woods to the room where she sent us.  But when I got there and saw a note on the door and realized there was more inside than simply getting away for a few minutes (there was a tv with a movie and Chili’s hamburgers waiting inside), it felt like a tiny glimpse of what getting to heaven is going to feel like, jumping up and down exciting. 

The second time was when Trent and I were on vacation, talking to a Disney cast member on Main Street in the Magic Kingdom and he asked us to be Grand Marshals in the parade.  No further explanation necessary.

(When I went through all these stories recently, someone commented that I didn’t mention the birth of my children.  Yeah, because that was hard, physical labor following nine solid months of underlying worry, so my overwhelming feeling was relief.  Relief.)

The third time I was jump-up-and-down crazy excited was Christmas Day 2011.

She did it.  SHE DID IT!  My sister actually knit the sweater of my dreams, just like Mrs. Weasley makes for all the Weasley children and for Harry, Gryffindor colors. 

You might know that I have asked Casey to knit this sweater for me a million times, often publically, and she told me she would never do it.  She old me I was overestimating her knitting skills (untrue) and that wearing a hand knit sweater based on Harry Potter was a level of nerdiness that she wouldn’t support.  But obviously she loves me.

Let me set the scene:  Christmas day, I open this gift:

A Gryffindor scarf!  Thank God, because I have wanted one for years, and a few inches of one has been clogging up my knitting needles for the last few months.  She’s the best.

So after all the presents were opened and my brother-in-law Chris asked me to go check on something in the laundry room.  It was one of those weird requests where you know something’s up.  I’m on my way to the laundry room when I see, sitting on the hearth next to a roaring fire, a lumpy package wrapped in brown paper.  There is a note from Mrs. Weasley saying that their owl was tied up so she delivered a little something by floo and Happy Christmas.  It was one of those moments where for a split second I thought this. is. real.  Mrs. Weasley made a sweater for me.

Oh Case.  I can’t even express what this gift means to me.  It’s the sweater, of course.  It’s the moment when she made the book real.  It’s the fact that she knit a sweater – how is that even possible?- and she gave it to me.  It’s more, so much more.

When were were growing up our bedrooms were connected.  It’s a long story, but we taped a little card in the doorway with a cheesy poem that I guarantee we can both still recite.  But the sentiment is still true and still the same:  I thank God for my sister.

Ioway

With all the talk about the Iowa caucuses in the news, who else has a constant stream of music from The Music Man and State Fair running through your head?

And speaking of the good old American Midwest, we had our good old fashioned handmade gift exchange again this year.

I made pillows for my 11-year-old niece and my 29-year-old sister and I think it worked for both of them.  I used a free pattern for the letters and in an added bonus, received the pattern for the entire alphabet for Christmas! 

Rush took that photo – very artsy.

For my family, Trent drew our brother-in-law’s name.  He’s an avid griller and smoker of meat, so Trent made him some custom seasoning blends.

Trent also drew his mom’s name and as she taught him to sew for his Odyssey of the Mind competitions in high school it was only fitting that he sewed a tote bag for her.  He’s multi-talented.  (Our camera was evidently set on fuzzy mode Christmas morning.)

Tate, like any self-respecting baby, showcased his handprint for his gift to Aunt Kim.  We made little handprint palm trees on a flowerpot including thumbprint coconuts.

And if you didn’t have any songs about Iowa stuck in your head before, I hope you will now.  It will make political news coverage much more enjoyable.

Resolutions

Welcome 2012, pleased to make your acquaintance.  We have big plans for you – big plans. 

I keep seeing blurbs in newspapers and magazines implying that it’s okay to not have new years resolutions because then you won’t feel bad if you fail in February.  Does anyone else think that’s strange?  It’s not like you’re getting fined if you don’t stick with your resolution.  Start over on February 3 or February 4 or January 3 or whenever.  My dad commented the other day that it society used to get some major projects completed that right now would never get organized.  I mean, at one point people build the jetties.  Can you imagine?  The jetties.  If somehow all those gigantic granite rocks were lugged down to the gulf, I can resolve to get a few things done this year.

I have a few resolutions and, with a corporate flair on some very domestic items, goals and objectives.

So resolutions first:  When we sat down at the dining room table for our New Year’s Eve dinner, Rush looked at me and said, “Happy Birthday Mommy!”  So it appears eating in the dining room more often is resolution #1. 

I also finally want to learn Celsius and Kilometers – not understand how to do the math, double it and add 30 or whatever, but actually know it.  If I hear someone say “Bonjour” I don’t have to translate it to hello; I just know it means hello.  I want to be like that with Celsius and kilometers.  Oh, 16 degrees?  Sure, I’d love to go swimming.  I’m not even sure if that’s right, but by the end of the year, I’ll know. 

A major goal is to update the laundry “room” (closet) as soon as possible:  cleaning it, painting it, getting organized, adding a change jar.  Magazines these days are always showing off some fancy laundry room with a cute sign that says “Wash Day!” that implies that the owner of the home has never come face to face with a ball of moldy dish towels lost under a pile of clothing…I mean, not that it’s ever happened to me either…right… We just need to make it a more useable small space.  Trent is building his own version of this pedestal, which should make all the difference.  (It was his first lumber purchase with the van instead of the truck – sad for him, but successful anyway.) 

I’m skipping the cute laundry room sign though.  The only quote I can ever think about when I’m doing laundry is Dr. Evil saying “Is it too much to ask for sharks with freakin laser beams on their heads?”  I need something like that to motivate me.

My other domestic goal is starting once a month grocery shopping.  Right now I’m unorganized to the point of going to the grocery store sometimes three or four times a week.  With the new plan, I planned all our meals for the month and I’m getting everything in one big trip, then just running in once a week to get milk, fruit, vegetables, and bread.  It’s going to be really different, as I usually plan one or two dinners a week, then figure out the other nights around 4 in the afternoon.  I’m optimistic and envisioning hours of extra time.

And I want to get the breakfast dishes off the kitchen table by 10 AM.  That sounds easy enough, so why is it so difficult in practice?  I blame it all on not being a morning person.

Overall, I’m resolving to get organized.  I want to clean out closets and cabinets and my make-up bag and bathroom drawers.  In my almost constant state of feeling unorganized, sometimes I find something that works and it changes my life.  A hanging shoe organizer, a binder filled with birthday cards already addressed, a laundry sorter, these things all work for me.  They might be the only three things, because it was hard to think of three, but 2012 is a new year! 

Or –and yet again I have to quote Liz Lemon, this time holding all her plastic organizational bins-

“I’m going to become wonderful.  It’s a new beginning.  Like a phoenix rising…(gets hit by a bike)…or maybe this is going to be the worst day ever.”

But again, I’m optimistic.  I ate my black eye peas and cabbage (grilled, thanks J&S for the grilling wok) today and I’m ready.