Keeping only what you love or is practical

I take pride in the fact that we have nothing in our attics (we have one over the bedrooms and one over the garage).  Well, we do have an antenna in one of them so that we can get more than just 4 television channels since we long ago got rid of satellite/cable television, but that is the only thing up there.

There are no holiday decorations, no knick-knacks, no old clothing, no old furniture.

This is not to say that we don't have any of this stuff, but it is in our basement storage area, which is pretty limited in size.

We never stored anything in our attic in our first house either.

There is something about the idea of attic storage that makes me think of fires and safety and it sorta gives me the heebie-jeebies to even consider putting boxes and boxes of flammable materials up there.  Not that the stuff we have in the basement couldn't go up in flames, but somehow fire being under my feet is slightly less heart-attack inducing than fire being above my head as I sleep.

In some parallel universe, I think I am a professional organizer (or a financial consultant since I love talking budgets and savings and meeting money goals).  Of course organizing is enjoyable when you really like de-cluttering, saying sayonara to unused stuff.  Some people with OCD do the hoarding thing, but clutter is what makes me feel anxious.

D and I rearranged our basement furniture over the Christmas break.  As part of that project, I pulled out more than 50 books that had been taking up space on our bookshelves.  Some of them I read in college and didn't remember.  Some of them I had read for book club and didn't really like enough to make them part of my book family.  The ones that are staying are books I truly, truly adore (like Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights), books that are classics and have stood the test of time (Treasure Island), and more modern books that I really, really liked (The Secret Life of Bees).

I guess the theme of 2011 was to rid myself of stuff, the extraneous that doesn't really matter now.

When my 20-year high school reunion neared in June 2011, I went through all the photos and albums I had saved from high school and trashed probably 94% of it.  Pictures of my high school friends and their dates at dances (and even numerous pictures of me with my dates at dances) simply aren't important anymore.

As I enter 2012, I am trying to be mindful of how little I need and that much of what makes me the happiest and most content is not stored in drawers and bins and compartments.   

Goals, not resolutions

I don't like the word "resolutions" because it sounds too serious, to committal.  Goals, I think, is a much more, "Well, I'll give it a whirl" word.  This is my semantics discussion for the day.

Some people are very goal-oriented, and some people are not.  I am in the former category.  I think this is why I like saving money because it takes awhile and gives me something to constantly work towards.

Although my anxiety is certainly better managed than its ever been before, setting goals gives me something to focus on besides worry, besides all the things I cannot control in life.  Setting goals makes me feel like I gave a grasp on something.

Some of my goals for 2012 are--

1. to exercise 1 extra day a week (on the treadmill) for 30-45 minutes.

2. to learn to play Happy Birthday on the piano (although with D's help I figured it out last night so I shall say I want to become really excellent at playing it).

3. to read Charles' Dickens A Tale of Two Cities.

4. to paint the basement.

5. to switch the kids' bedrooms so that G and M will share a bedroom and N will have a room all to herself.

6. to make 2 extra house payments (in an attempt to pay this sucker off in 10 years).

I am always glad to see Christmas vamoose so that I can enjoy the days between it and New Year's Day.  There is something about the promise of what is to come that I relish.  It feels exciting and wonderful.

Oh, geesh, I'm talking like an optimist or something.  

I'll complain about my body as I eat another plate of Christmas cookies

Overall, I am not the kind of person who pays much mind to my personal appearance.

I have some standards, although just barely.  I do not wear my pajama pants out in public (and I don't count walking out to my mailbox to retrieve the newspaper at 7:30 a.m. as going out in public).

I keep my hair short because it looks best on me.  I do not wear makeup because it makes my face itch.  I wear clothes that are comfortable.  That is my personal appearance philosophy in a nutshell.

In general, I think I am pretty fit.  It has been almost 2 years since I have been working out with a trainer in a group fitness "bootcamp" at a friend's house.  I started it when M was about 6 months old.  In the early days, Eric, the trainer, had us squat up against the wall and hold the pose.  OMG!  It just about killed me.....my thighs would shake and daggers of pain would shoot up to my hip.  I had to pant to get through planks.  I was on the thin side but extremely out of shape.

At first I could only commit to 1 day a week for a half-hour.  Now I go 2 times a week, for an hour each time.  My goal for 2012 is to add another day of exercise in.....30-45 minutes on the treadmill, probably on a weekend day when D is at home and can keep the kids from bugging me.  While I would love to commit to more, the truth is that I am still woken up during the night at least once every single night and G usually has me up for the day at 6:00 a.m.  Once M is in preschool and I am getting consistently restful sleep I can do more......but not until then.

I am proud of being able to do as much as I do.

But even though my arms and legs are more cut and my A1C level has gone down, my abdomen bugs the absolute SHIT out of me.  And I hate it that I allow my mid-section to bug me.

I know why my mid-section bulges---the 3 babies who grew there, the uterus that still lives there, and my poor posture.  If my breasts were bigger, I don't think I'd pay much attention to my abdomen.  But with my breasts being naturally small and now terribly saggy, they don't stick out enough for me to think my mid-section looks small in comparison.

Even though I'd like for my abs to look better, I am not willing to starve myself or do cardio 7 days a week (for the aforementioned reasons).  When I get all hung-up about how thin people look in magazines, I have to remind myself that I would look amazing too if my livelihood depended on me looking hot and having an awesome body and if I were airbrushed and Photoshopped to within an inch of my life.

I recognize that is is pretty stupid to focus on one part of my body that I don't think looks so great when 90% of me looks pretty darn good.....at least when compared to the general population.

My mom, who will be 74 this spring, said she has finally reached the age where she just doesn't care anymore, and that is nice to know.  It is nice to know there will come a time when I just won't care.  I won't focus on any part of my body and what it looks like because it will all look old.

Ok, now I'm not depressed about my abs.  Just the prospect of aging and death.

Scenes from Christmas 2011

Multitasking......eating peppermint sticks/lollipops and playing with Wheelie toy from Mamaw.  

She wanted a La-La-Loopsy doll.  I don't know why since she doesn't play with dolls.  But her Mamaw got her one which provoked joy.....

and tears.  

Good grief.

The teen years are gonna be brutal, I can already tell.

Mommy and Daddy got the boys some "new to them" Geotrax track and buildings. 

 (Santa brings brand new gifts; Mommy, as expected, goes craiglist.)  

N has been enjoying the Mad Libs.  

M is the sssslllloooooooooooowwwest present opener around.  

Mommy bought each of the kids a Disney ornament from our vacation in June 2011.  N's was Princess Tiana, G's was Mike & Sully, and M's was Mickey Mouse.

A shared gift.  

Santa brought M a "hed," as M calls it.

She has been asking for a pillow pet for at least 2 years; she finally got one.

A new Marvel villain from Santa....Doc Ock.  

The grinch in me still lives

I loved Christmas as a kid until I stopped getting toys as gifts.

After that, Christmas was mostly a form of torture---being stuck in my house with my family, all of whom were perfectly able and willing to go off and entertain themselves (a skill I only learned in the past few years).   I think Christmas is part of the reason I liked the idea of having a larger than 2 children family.

As a young adult, I was more or less a grinch.  But the truth is I was kinda grinchy about everything.  Christmas just made it worse than usual.

And then I became a mom.  Once N came along, and certainly once she got old enough to understand Santa and the fun of opening gifts, Christmas became enjoyable.

Now with 3 children, Christmas is full of activity.  Children make Christmas magical for their parents.

But with this holiday season having been in full swing for a month now, my inner grinch is starting to poke his head out.

For example:
1. I am itching to take all these infernal Christmas decorations down.  About 3 weeks is all I can stand of holiday decor.

2. I am sick of other people being on the roads.  One of the greatest benefits of being a stay-at-home mom is being able to be out and about when kids are at school and the majority of other adults are at work.

3. These same people on the roads are also in the stores, and while I long ago completed my shopping, I did have to pick up our Christmas morning doughnuts at the bakery this morning.....along with 10,000 other people.  One particular dumb-ass was picking up pies for someone else and didn't know what exactly he was picking up so had to make a mobile phone call while in line (with MANY of his fellow shoppers behind him).  And then he also had to order a latte and a cinnamon twist, which he could have done earlier when he was standing in front of the case instead of waiting until he was in the check-out line.  He got a little huffy at the bakery staff for not hearing his latte/twist order, but apparently his head is stuffed very far up his own tail because he didn't seem to notice that everyone behind the counter was a little harried due to the 10,000 other customers behind him.

4. The kids holiday break should begin on Christmas Eve so that they have only 1 day of being home and not having new toys.  Not being in routine and not having much to do (because of the aforementioned traffic and people that makes their mother refuse to go out in all the mess) are a recipe for occasional bouts of inspired cooperative play but mostly bickering, which drives their mother bonkers.

So I will enjoy this evening and tomorrow and then be ready to move on with normal life.
Although I will have to wait until Jan 3 to actually do so.

Gingerbread lean-tos

Yesterday N and I made gingerbread dough.

This morning, N, G and I rolled the dough and cut out shapes for our gingerbread houses (plus some Christmas trees, stars, snowflakes and gingerbread men).

This afternoon, N and G made and decorated gingerbread houses lean-tos.  I'm sure there are some gingerbread squatters living inside.

This was the first time we've ever attempted this, so I wasn't sure how it was gonna go.  Fortunately, given my penchant for pathetic looking birthday cakes, the kids had no problem with the houses not looking picture perfect.

The kids did really well.  They helped me unwrap candies and put them in little bowls.  They helped carry the bowls to the table.  They each waited patiently while I was helping the other one.  It was remarkably calm and fun.  Oh, and messy.

D served as photographer/camcorder operator/gingerbread house critic.

Breaking up the peppermint pieces.

The kids putting candies in dishes.  Oh, and eating the candy too.  

Everything all laid out....ready to go.

N's house before her high-style decorating was added.

G's BEFORE picture.

Working.....

Still working.....

G's finished house.

N's finished house.

Me and my big ideas

In my 38 years, I have discovered that I often get ideas that seem to come from nowhere.  I just get a notion of something I'd like to do.  Soon after this idea takes seed in my mind, it seems there are always these strange conversations with people or I meet a person with a skill or information that reinforces whatever idea was taking shape in my head.  These serendipitous events make me think that I should run with my idea.  That maybe this is the universe saying, "Go for it."

I always, always listen to these instinctive gut reactions I have.

My most recent "big idea" started in the late summer/early fall.  I determined that it was important to me that my children be exposed to a musical instrument.  Neither of my parents play instruments so they never encouraged it.  As a child I took 10 years of dance lessons but never had any desire to do music.  I attended Catholic school from grade 1 to 12 that did not offer band or orchestra (another reason why I'm pro-public education).  Our music classes were students singing.  I don't even remember being instructed on how to play the kazoo.

As an adult, my lack of musicality bothers me.  I wish I could play some kind of instrument.  In the weeks after college before I found a full-time job, I began taking guitar lessons but once a steady paycheck and 9-5 hours called, I dropped them.  After I had N, I took an adult education guitar class for awhile.

As it normally happens, after this idea began taking shape in my head, I happened to meet someone at a dinner with friends who teaches piano to children.  I was telling her how I'd like for my kids to learn an instrument, and she gave me some information about piano lessons.  Serendipitous event #1.

A few weeks afterwards, I met my oldest and dearest friend for breakfast.  She plays piano, and her husband is a music teacher.  I told her about my big idea and about what this friend of friends told me at dinner.  I mentioned something about renting a piano.  Kris informed me that once her husband's home sold, they would be needing to get rid of his piano (since she has one in her house where they now live), and maybe D and I could buy theirs.  Serendipitous event #2.

Fast forward 4 months or so, and we now have an upright piano sitting in our dining room.  N and I are scheduled to begin piano lessons on Jan 2.

Like my fitness "boot-camp" classes I take with a couple friends under the guidance of a trainer, I need the structure of lessons and being accountable to people other than myself.  By taking lessons with N, I will be far more likely to practice because I want to set a good example for her.   We can support each other in our efforts.

I don't expect either of us to become Chopin but it would be nice to be able to play the Happy Birthday song or a Christmas carol.

Let's hope this big idea works out as well as some of my other big ideas of the past.