Over the summer I worked a lot on reorganizing and redecorating my office. At one point, maybe two weeks ago, I got to the 4th wall, the official crafting area. It contains an old armoire that holds craft projects "in progress" (i.e. barely started.)
Here is the gruesome thought process involved with trying to decided what to do with one stupid armoire:
I decided that it might be better utilized upstairs as a linen closet. I was thinking it would be better to have more room in my office, maybe a bigger table for crafting. I was also thinking I may move yet ANOTHER armoire to this space, a large one currently in the dining room. Because I want to replace that one with bookcases and make the underused dining room a library instead of a dining room.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Before I do anything with this armoire, it must be emptied!
Thinking about how to empty it has led to a couple of other trains of thought/projects. Among the things in it are incomplete kids crafts, 2 really cool boxes and 2 really cool tins which would also be good for gift containers, and rolls of paper.
These things are an organizational challenge. Because I have no real place to store gift containers, or large kids craft supplies.
And this reminds me that I need to get new craft supplies for the kids for fall, as well as back to school supplies...ugh.
And it also makes me realize that I don't have enough gift wrapping supplies, so whenever we have a party to go to it becomes a bit of a challenge.
So I started thinking that I will put a gift wrapping station either in my new craft armoire or in the new bookcase. And this gets me started thinking about the armoire in the dining room, which is packed with junk, and has those computers that I need to take back to work and also has my photos and scrapbook supplies in it. And I wanted to FINALLY start scrapbooking before fall, but I can't get to anything in the dining room. Because there is a giant fire engine toddler bed in the middle of it. And then there's that cool 20's library table in there that I want to refinish for the kids, and some plants that I started and want to sell on Etsy, and an old sofa that I think I want to get rid of.
But I'm not sure if I want to get rid of it, because what about Christmas? I’ve been pulling it into the living room every year, for extra seating, but that is really a pain and wears me out and disrupts the whole house.
And what about Christmas, too? I want to FINALLY have the laid back open house buffet thing, but I know my mother will have a fit, and since she’s sick maybe I should let it go. But I can’t really put the dining room table back in there because I was planning on making the dining room a library, and I would like to enjoy my dining room all year instead of just cramming people in there at Christmas. But oh, the guilt, the guilt.
And what should I do with the old armoire? Strip it? How many layers of paint is on it? It will look kind of rustic stripped...is rustic really the look I'm going for for the upstairs alcove? Which is where it would go, right outside the laundry room. But then should I just get the washer and dryer stacked? Then I could put shelving in there and wouldn't need the armoire. Then what do I do with it? Just leave it in my office, maybe. Sigh.
Eventually, I overcame some of this and my office is on the way to being done, the armoire is half stripped, and I'll figure out the rest later, but sheesh.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
What I learned on my summer vacation
1. That summer is pretty much like the rest of the year, only hotter. I remember those days of real summer vacation, when summer stretched out, long and waiting and expectant, full of promise and adventure. By the time school was back in session, it felt like a lifetime had passed. Not anymore! Instead of rushing to school, we rushed to camp (movie camp, robot camp, school district camp, anything to keep the little guys active) and while they were gone I hemmed and hawed…what to do first? A yard project? Dishes? The Great American Novel? And ended up, most days, just doing the eternal laundry and spending way too much time figuring out how to fit “personal injury lawyer” “dating” “how to sniff packets” and other such nonsense into a sentence for one of the cheapo writing gigs. The days were long, but not long enough to get anything accomplished; the months were short, and now it’s inexplicably over.
2.That people on Craigslist are unreliable. Seriously, how hard is it to just reply to an email when you’ve already sent an email saying you are interested in something? Way back in June, I scrubbed the crayon off Oldest’s old plastic fire engine bed and listed it. Within minutes, someone wanted it. Hooray! I dragged it downstairs to the dining room. Where it sat for 2+ months. The first woman looked it over and said she’d let me know. Never heard from her. What the #$%^ is wrong with the $%^& fire engine bed, I wondered on many sleepless nights. It still costs $200 in the stores, lady. Sixty bucks! Residual crayon marks or not, it’s still a bargain. Then there was the woman who went on for three weeks that she wanted it but had no transportation and in the end had some long, personal story about why she couldn’t purchase the $%^& fire engine bed. Then the 4 or 5 no shows, including the ones who were ready to put a deposit on it but then never came back. At last, I got a taker; I pleaded to PLEASE LET ME KNOW if she was going to change her mind, which perhaps scared her into buying the thing after all. So there went my fire engine bed, sticking out the back of an SUV an hopefully making it safely to the bedroom of her adorable 1 yr old (and it was sticking out indeed, I almost gave the money back and told her to forget it, because it looked rather dangerous. Almost). And at last, I have my dining room back.
3. That some things come back to get me, time after time. I can’t seem to learn from the past, to prepare for the inevitable; there is always the thought that this time will be okay, no matter what. I fail to protect myself, and end up in pain, crawling out of my skin and weepy. You know what I’m talking about:
This is the bastid after spraying it daily for the last week after it attacked me. It looks withering, no? Yes it does! I will defeat this poison ivy, if it takes the rest of my life. Every year it gets me, but I will win in the end; the steroids worked, my eyes are no longer swollen shut, I’m able to sleep through the night again without scratching off three layers of skin and I’m here to tell you, Poison Ivy, that your days are numbered.
4.And that brings me to the (final?) summer reflection: like Spongebob says, sometimes indoors is better – at least when you are as clumsy, impatient, or inattentive as I. Safer. Two years ago was the summer of the poked eyes, when anytime I attempted to weed I ended up scratching open a cornea. Last year was free of visits to the ER. Why? Because I stayed in the house! This year, with the boys more self sufficient, I decided it was time to get in gear and pay attention to the jungle of yard again, make it more comfortable. June was the swingset that got knocked over in Hubby’s impatience (whether it was the instructions, as he claims, or the builder, I still cannot be sure) and konked me right in the temple. I was stunned and bleeding, but a trip to the ER was not required. In July, I decided to tackle the overgrown azaleas. I did good, I did, with that trimmer. Took a break, took of the gloves. Forgot to put the gloves back on. Went back for just the last few minutes of trimming, hot, dehydrated, and hungry, but determined. I stood poised, right finger on the on button. Surprise and Hubby walked out the back door, the noise distracted me, my left hand rebelled against the other side of my body and moved toward the metal, and there was that “Oh crap” moment when you know something bad is going to happen but are powerless to stop it. Fortunately, it wasn’t a power saw, and 13 stitches and some embarrassment (because Hubby insisted on calling 911, because I kept passing out, but I really just needed to sit for a minute but he wouldn’t listen and how could I go to the hospital when I was all sweaty and dirty? So I insisted on a shower and 2 cops AND 2 paramedics came while I was barricaded in there and got very impatient and as a result 2 cops and 2 paramedics have seen me in a towel. I will get back at Hubby for this, one day) later, my fingers are pretty much back to normal.
But none of this would have happened if I would have stayed. In. The. House.
OK, one more. We are pretty much indoor people and we also don’t appear to be vacationing people either. This was the first year we attempted an overnight, since the boys finally seem to be old enough. Only problem is, it was only ONE overnight, and one night away, well, just sucks. We shoulda done a week. One overnight is not vacation. It’s work. Even worse when the overnight is in a renovated caboose, which is nice as an idea but uncomfortable and cramped in real life (maybe I should be glad it was an overnight only, after all) and when the other overnight of the summer, to the mountains, ends up getting rained on, and then my mother goes to the ER that night so that my uncle has to sit there all day and still seems to be pissed about it. Sigh.
So it sounds bad, no? But it wasn’t! Because in between all that stuff was watching my boys jump around in the pool, watchnig them sleep, putting them in summer pajamas, sweating it out while they played at the park, and just being around them every day. Every day with them is a gift.
2.That people on Craigslist are unreliable. Seriously, how hard is it to just reply to an email when you’ve already sent an email saying you are interested in something? Way back in June, I scrubbed the crayon off Oldest’s old plastic fire engine bed and listed it. Within minutes, someone wanted it. Hooray! I dragged it downstairs to the dining room. Where it sat for 2+ months. The first woman looked it over and said she’d let me know. Never heard from her. What the #$%^ is wrong with the $%^& fire engine bed, I wondered on many sleepless nights. It still costs $200 in the stores, lady. Sixty bucks! Residual crayon marks or not, it’s still a bargain. Then there was the woman who went on for three weeks that she wanted it but had no transportation and in the end had some long, personal story about why she couldn’t purchase the $%^& fire engine bed. Then the 4 or 5 no shows, including the ones who were ready to put a deposit on it but then never came back. At last, I got a taker; I pleaded to PLEASE LET ME KNOW if she was going to change her mind, which perhaps scared her into buying the thing after all. So there went my fire engine bed, sticking out the back of an SUV an hopefully making it safely to the bedroom of her adorable 1 yr old (and it was sticking out indeed, I almost gave the money back and told her to forget it, because it looked rather dangerous. Almost). And at last, I have my dining room back.
3. That some things come back to get me, time after time. I can’t seem to learn from the past, to prepare for the inevitable; there is always the thought that this time will be okay, no matter what. I fail to protect myself, and end up in pain, crawling out of my skin and weepy. You know what I’m talking about:
This is the bastid after spraying it daily for the last week after it attacked me. It looks withering, no? Yes it does! I will defeat this poison ivy, if it takes the rest of my life. Every year it gets me, but I will win in the end; the steroids worked, my eyes are no longer swollen shut, I’m able to sleep through the night again without scratching off three layers of skin and I’m here to tell you, Poison Ivy, that your days are numbered.
4.And that brings me to the (final?) summer reflection: like Spongebob says, sometimes indoors is better – at least when you are as clumsy, impatient, or inattentive as I. Safer. Two years ago was the summer of the poked eyes, when anytime I attempted to weed I ended up scratching open a cornea. Last year was free of visits to the ER. Why? Because I stayed in the house! This year, with the boys more self sufficient, I decided it was time to get in gear and pay attention to the jungle of yard again, make it more comfortable. June was the swingset that got knocked over in Hubby’s impatience (whether it was the instructions, as he claims, or the builder, I still cannot be sure) and konked me right in the temple. I was stunned and bleeding, but a trip to the ER was not required. In July, I decided to tackle the overgrown azaleas. I did good, I did, with that trimmer. Took a break, took of the gloves. Forgot to put the gloves back on. Went back for just the last few minutes of trimming, hot, dehydrated, and hungry, but determined. I stood poised, right finger on the on button. Surprise and Hubby walked out the back door, the noise distracted me, my left hand rebelled against the other side of my body and moved toward the metal, and there was that “Oh crap” moment when you know something bad is going to happen but are powerless to stop it. Fortunately, it wasn’t a power saw, and 13 stitches and some embarrassment (because Hubby insisted on calling 911, because I kept passing out, but I really just needed to sit for a minute but he wouldn’t listen and how could I go to the hospital when I was all sweaty and dirty? So I insisted on a shower and 2 cops AND 2 paramedics came while I was barricaded in there and got very impatient and as a result 2 cops and 2 paramedics have seen me in a towel. I will get back at Hubby for this, one day) later, my fingers are pretty much back to normal.
But none of this would have happened if I would have stayed. In. The. House.
OK, one more. We are pretty much indoor people and we also don’t appear to be vacationing people either. This was the first year we attempted an overnight, since the boys finally seem to be old enough. Only problem is, it was only ONE overnight, and one night away, well, just sucks. We shoulda done a week. One overnight is not vacation. It’s work. Even worse when the overnight is in a renovated caboose, which is nice as an idea but uncomfortable and cramped in real life (maybe I should be glad it was an overnight only, after all) and when the other overnight of the summer, to the mountains, ends up getting rained on, and then my mother goes to the ER that night so that my uncle has to sit there all day and still seems to be pissed about it. Sigh.
So it sounds bad, no? But it wasn’t! Because in between all that stuff was watching my boys jump around in the pool, watchnig them sleep, putting them in summer pajamas, sweating it out while they played at the park, and just being around them every day. Every day with them is a gift.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Another update
On a more personal note, I decided I really need to get back into this blog, and REALLY need to devote it to my kids. Because they are just so frigging cute and interesting right now! I need to capture it. For the first time since they were infants, I can honestly say that I am really enjoying being a mother and feeling comfortable with it. I know that sounds horrible, but the toddler years really wore me out and shredded my nerves. But lately, wow. They listen, sort of. They are semi-polite. They have real conversations and say things that are just amazing. It's occurred to me lately that I can remember stuff from when I was their age, so all of this will be remembered by them. Pretty amazing, and at the same time a little scary. This is the time that will shape the way they feel about me. Hopefully it will be quotes about how great I was when they accept their awards and degrees 20 years from now, and not bitching about me on a shrink's couch. Just sayin'.
I've been making more of an effort to get down and play with them or just be near them instead of doing more chores or going into my office to work - and truly enjoying just being around them. And all of a sudden I can picture them clearly as babies, can remember what they smelled like and how it felt to have their little bodies against my shoulder. For awhile these memories were lost, and I feared it was forever, but now they are back with clarity. As they grow older, the memories get clearer.
This sort of ties in with the realization that Tiberius is not going to happen. Hubby changed his mind and it's not changing back. At first I was resigned - all right, at first I cried and freaked out and yelled, but then resignation started creeping in. And the more I thought about it, the more I thought it was probably for the best. More than babies, I've been noticing crazy people with more kids than they can handle. I watched a friend change a diaper the other day and somehow the thought, what a pain in the a** that must be creeped into my head. I've been noticing how the calm of a day with no kids crying and fewer kids' needs to attend to is really just, well, awesome. Besides all that, now that my memories are back, I have something to hold onto; although it would be nice to feel that tiny head on my shoulder again, I can reach back through the years and feel it clearly anyway. There is talk about adoption, maybe a Tiberius of Asian or Indian or South American heritage in the future, but I'm not counting on it - and it's OK.
I've been making more of an effort to get down and play with them or just be near them instead of doing more chores or going into my office to work - and truly enjoying just being around them. And all of a sudden I can picture them clearly as babies, can remember what they smelled like and how it felt to have their little bodies against my shoulder. For awhile these memories were lost, and I feared it was forever, but now they are back with clarity. As they grow older, the memories get clearer.
This sort of ties in with the realization that Tiberius is not going to happen. Hubby changed his mind and it's not changing back. At first I was resigned - all right, at first I cried and freaked out and yelled, but then resignation started creeping in. And the more I thought about it, the more I thought it was probably for the best. More than babies, I've been noticing crazy people with more kids than they can handle. I watched a friend change a diaper the other day and somehow the thought, what a pain in the a** that must be creeped into my head. I've been noticing how the calm of a day with no kids crying and fewer kids' needs to attend to is really just, well, awesome. Besides all that, now that my memories are back, I have something to hold onto; although it would be nice to feel that tiny head on my shoulder again, I can reach back through the years and feel it clearly anyway. There is talk about adoption, maybe a Tiberius of Asian or Indian or South American heritage in the future, but I'm not counting on it - and it's OK.
An update
As promised, here are the things I've been working on:
First, I got accepted to Suite 101. It's not a pay-per-article site, but a revenue sharing one, supposedly one of the most profitable. I've only submitted one article so far, because as usual I'm a bit paralyzed with fear. And too sensitive.
I think I'm spoiled by my first editors, who were so kind and glowing all the time that I started thinking I was Hemingway. I've had a couple others who were less demonstrative, but still pretty kind.
This one is a little chilly.
I was cautioned that the first article would need lots of revisions to get used to the style of the site. It didn't, just minor technical changes. Cool. But, the editor didn't have much to say. Why? I ask myself. Does she think my article sucks? Is she wondering why I got accepted in the first place? There was no feedback, no this is good or this is just awful! So now I am procrastinating about submitting more. I'll get over it, in fact I have to to get the required 10 articles up within the next 60 days. It will be ok. Deep breaths. Really!
I also started a few new blogs. Right now, they are low on posts, but I am getting in a groove, now that I got the design and the links and everything else worked out. Yeah people these are totally monetized blogs, meant to get you to click. Click, click, click! (but only if you want something in the ads. Encouraging to do otherwise is illegal, I think.)
So here goes:
The Homestead Blog: because it's (sort of) a new hobby of mine. Actually, I was intrigued by what I read about Urban Homesteading, planted some strawberries and lettuce, decided to call myself a suburban homesteader, started a blog and now I have to really follow through or there will be nothing to put there. I'm already pretty frugal and simple, but I'm going to try to get more in touch with nature and get into self-sufficiency and simplicity, dragging my Lego clutching menfolk along kicking and screaming. I envision a goat named Gibraltar in my future.
Creative Organizing: ideas and stuff to make your office pretty.
The Best Kids Rooms: This is truly a passion, so I thought it would be fun to blog about it. I loved decorating my kids rooms! I loved coming up with elaborate ideas and surfing for ideas. I love themes! As the boys get bigger and things get painted over in favor of ideas they choose on their own, I thought this would be a great way to preserve some of it. And jeez, I spent so much time Internet window shopping, maybe someone can benefit from it.
Magic Wanda is tied to my new etsy store, also called Magic Wanda. Yes, they are fairies. In jars. Before you get all WTH? (my BFF said, "people actually BUY those things?") know that there are actually other people who sell these and collect them. I came across them a year ago or so on eBay and as usual instead of thinking, wow, that's cute, I think I'll buy one I thought wow, I bet I could make those and sell them! So I started looking for Victorian photographs (they use them because of copyright issues, since they're over a certain age they are in the public domain,) found they were hard to work with, and started buying altered photos. So then I had pages of them, and started collecting jars, and had baskets and drawers full of empty jars until I finally decided to just get em done. I actually did sell a few under a generic Etsy store, but found that sellers with real stores and stories behind their items seem to do better, and just look better. I am so done with the jars now and will be moving on to terrariums, fairy gardens, other paper crafts and maybe fimo soon.
Feedback and gentle criticism is welcome. Please. I am new to blogging with the hopes of making money from it, and can use all the help I can get. At least on the blogs. I don't want to hear any nasty comments about my fairies!
First, I got accepted to Suite 101. It's not a pay-per-article site, but a revenue sharing one, supposedly one of the most profitable. I've only submitted one article so far, because as usual I'm a bit paralyzed with fear. And too sensitive.
I think I'm spoiled by my first editors, who were so kind and glowing all the time that I started thinking I was Hemingway. I've had a couple others who were less demonstrative, but still pretty kind.
This one is a little chilly.
I was cautioned that the first article would need lots of revisions to get used to the style of the site. It didn't, just minor technical changes. Cool. But, the editor didn't have much to say. Why? I ask myself. Does she think my article sucks? Is she wondering why I got accepted in the first place? There was no feedback, no this is good or this is just awful! So now I am procrastinating about submitting more. I'll get over it, in fact I have to to get the required 10 articles up within the next 60 days. It will be ok. Deep breaths. Really!
I also started a few new blogs. Right now, they are low on posts, but I am getting in a groove, now that I got the design and the links and everything else worked out. Yeah people these are totally monetized blogs, meant to get you to click. Click, click, click! (but only if you want something in the ads. Encouraging to do otherwise is illegal, I think.)
So here goes:
The Homestead Blog: because it's (sort of) a new hobby of mine. Actually, I was intrigued by what I read about Urban Homesteading, planted some strawberries and lettuce, decided to call myself a suburban homesteader, started a blog and now I have to really follow through or there will be nothing to put there. I'm already pretty frugal and simple, but I'm going to try to get more in touch with nature and get into self-sufficiency and simplicity, dragging my Lego clutching menfolk along kicking and screaming. I envision a goat named Gibraltar in my future.
Creative Organizing: ideas and stuff to make your office pretty.
The Best Kids Rooms: This is truly a passion, so I thought it would be fun to blog about it. I loved decorating my kids rooms! I loved coming up with elaborate ideas and surfing for ideas. I love themes! As the boys get bigger and things get painted over in favor of ideas they choose on their own, I thought this would be a great way to preserve some of it. And jeez, I spent so much time Internet window shopping, maybe someone can benefit from it.
Magic Wanda is tied to my new etsy store, also called Magic Wanda. Yes, they are fairies. In jars. Before you get all WTH? (my BFF said, "people actually BUY those things?") know that there are actually other people who sell these and collect them. I came across them a year ago or so on eBay and as usual instead of thinking, wow, that's cute, I think I'll buy one I thought wow, I bet I could make those and sell them! So I started looking for Victorian photographs (they use them because of copyright issues, since they're over a certain age they are in the public domain,) found they were hard to work with, and started buying altered photos. So then I had pages of them, and started collecting jars, and had baskets and drawers full of empty jars until I finally decided to just get em done. I actually did sell a few under a generic Etsy store, but found that sellers with real stores and stories behind their items seem to do better, and just look better. I am so done with the jars now and will be moving on to terrariums, fairy gardens, other paper crafts and maybe fimo soon.
Feedback and gentle criticism is welcome. Please. I am new to blogging with the hopes of making money from it, and can use all the help I can get. At least on the blogs. I don't want to hear any nasty comments about my fairies!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Ah, closeknit computing time
For my b-day, Hubby got me a new computer. I gave the kids my old computer. Instead of junking up the house with more computer gear, I decided to share a desk with them - they are on one side, I'm on the other.
Have I mentioned that my boys fight with each other? Like, almost every moment of the day?
Heard just moments ago from across the desk (accompanied by music from the Lego website):
“I’m gonna punch you in the face! Weally hard! And your eyeballs will fall out!”
“You’re making me woose! Woose my wego game!!”
Maybe sharing a desk wasn’t such a great idea.
Have I mentioned that my boys fight with each other? Like, almost every moment of the day?
Heard just moments ago from across the desk (accompanied by music from the Lego website):
“I’m gonna punch you in the face! Weally hard! And your eyeballs will fall out!”
“You’re making me woose! Woose my wego game!!”
Maybe sharing a desk wasn’t such a great idea.
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