Pack a box for Goodwill: Some unsolicited advice

Hello, I'm Katie. I really like things. I like to collect things at yard sales and buy things on clearance. I have lots of crafty hobbies that require lots and lots of things. I don't like getting rid of my things, because I have plans for all of my things. I have an entire closet full of things that are awaiting their intended purpose.

The Closet of Shame

Unsurprisingly, I'm not very willing to part with these things. Any of them. They're important! I got them at a great price! Or, just as likely, I paid way too much for them to just give them away! 

But 'tis the season for giving, and packing up a few boxes for Goodwill might be just the thing to get you in the holiday spirit.* If you are like me, here are ten easy steps to giving away things you don't need.

1. Be in a generous mood. As Winston Churchill said, "Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference." I have decluttered my home many times, but the most productive and fulfilling episodes are the ones when I have a generous spirit, rather than a tidying, cranky, or overwhelmed spirit. (I think this is mainly because when I feel like cleaning, I also feel ambitious, and I look at all the items in the pile and see their unfulfilled potential. When I feel overwhelmed, I am tempted to just shove it all in the closet for another year.)

2. Gather some boxes and bags. Sure, you could start by piling it all on the floor and packing it up at the end, but in my experience, the more separate times I touch an item, the more likely I am to put it back into my closet. Also, if you find out that you don't quite have enough bags and boxes to contain the entire pile you've decided to give away, you are also tempted to reevaluate.

3. Decide on a stopping point. When are you going to be done? I like to do a room at a time, but you could decide to stop when you have three full boxes, or enough to fill up your trunk, or when a certain amount of time has passed. But if you're overly ambitious, and vow to purge the entire house of unwanted items, you might be in danger of becoming overwhelmed or burned out.

4. Invite your imaginary friend. Ok, so maybe you don't need this step, but when I need a little extra encouragement, this really helps me. Think of someone in your life that you genuinely care for and want to help. I usually pick my little sister, because not only is she a poor graduate student, but I also have a lot of practice giving her my old things! (About twenty-three years of practice!)

5. Evaluate each item. This is where my friend comes in. As I look at each thing, I imagine my sister visiting and admiring it. Gushing over it even.** And then I note my response. If imaginary me responds, "Really? I got it at such and such, and I really like it," then it's a keeper. If I think, "You like it? Take it! I'm not really using it," then I chuck it in the donate pile. If it's somewhere in-between, then I consider it for a while, and then make the decision.

6. Pack the items as you go. Don't give yourself any time to second-guess yourself. In the box, in the box, in the box. You'll have time to tidy up the boxes later.

7. Once you reach your stopping point, move all your items to another room. It's important for me to get the clutter out of its natural habitat. I've looked at that necklace on my nightstand for so long that it seems at home there. In the box, though, it looks like what it is - a thing that I don't particularly love, that might be nice for someone else.

8. Repack your boxes and consider donation options. This is the trickiest part, because it is tempting to keep your things. You could of course just throw everything into your car and take it to the same place, but I find this part to be really rewarding, and it helps motivate me to give next time. As I repack items (wrapping breakable things, etc.) I pay attention to the things I'm giving away, and I think about who exactly I'm giving them to. While I have a default thrift-store organization in mind, occasionally I have something that might go further somewhere else. For example, Jonny recently got rid of several shirts and pants he didn't really wear, but were perfectly good clothes. I estimated the sizes of some of the guys I knew and called them up. The shirts went to Jonny's brother, and the pants to a friend from church. Likewise, our thrift store doesn't take opened cleaning supplies or clothes hangers, but the local women's shelter does. Consider regifting possibilities too, if the idea doesn't offend you. Don't give away family heirlooms or important objects without trying to pawn them off on the most appropriate people to assume responsibility for them.

I want to be clear: I don't think the thrift store should only get the stuff no one else wants. I do think that if you put some thought into where your gifts can do the most good, not only does it actually have the potential to help more people, but it also can give you more satisfaction. You get to see the smile on your friend's face when you give her that necklace she has always admired, rather than leaving it in a mountain of things and hoping that someday, someone will rescue it from a thrift store rack. The more I give, the more I want to give to people and the organizations that serve them.

9. Take stock. Take a moment to think about how many things you've decided you don't need, and estimate how much it all costs. (Don't spend too much time on this, lest you be tempted to keep things because you're wasting money!) Think about what good that money would have done if you had just given it directly to charity, rather than spent it on things you didn't need. Goodwill can do a lot more with a donation of $10 than it can with a "ten-dollar" donated item that it will process, price, and sell for $2. Promise yourself you'll do better next time you're tempted to buy something you don't need. (This step is especially important during the holidays - maybe it's time to reevaluate that Christmas wishlist?)

10. Deliver your things. Load up the car and drive the things away. Make sure to check the organization's donation hours and stipulations before you go. Don't let things sit around your house and migrate back to your closets! If you've put aside things  for a friend or another organization, make solid arrangements to drop off the things, or have them pick them up. Set a time limit, give fair warning, and then if they're still in your house, get rid of them.

This list of tips is just one method among many, and is particularly tailored to my personal neuroses and inclinations. But I wrote it all down in case it might help you too! Happy giving!

*Goodwill is just one of the many worthy organizations to which you could donate things. I'm not particularly partial - it's just the first one that comes to my mind, and one I think nearly everyone is familiar with.

**This is particularly humorous if you know my sister - she doesn't gush. Ever.

Making an Advent Calendar; or, Preparing for Preparation

I made an Advent Calendar yesterday:

Cue: ooohing and aahhing. I better see this on Pinterest tomorrow! Just kidding. Mostly.

Inspired by...well, a lot of things. You can go to Pinterest and search for advent calendars and see all the gorgeous DIY options out there. None of them really worked perfectly for me, because I didn't want to buy containers, but I still wanted the option to contain candy or small presents if I wanted to (in future years - Jonny and I don't need any more candy during the holidays!).

I'm not going to write a tutorial, because tutorials take a lot of effort and time and I don't want to and it's my blog so I can do what I want. Thank goodness for all the wonderful people who do like writing tutorials, because I used them a lot. I folded origami cups out of Christmasy cardstock - one of those large square pages divided into four parts. Then I stuck numbers on them, printed from this wonderful free printable. (I had to print two pages to a sheet in order to shrink the numbers to half their size, so they'd fit nicely on the cups.) I made the star from this tutorial, modified slightly to make it flat.

The frame once held this guy:

Currently unavailable on Amazon.com

But the glass broke about four years ago, and Einstein was retired. Though it was a great quote for a thirteen-year-old oddball (thanks, Mom and Dad!), I wasn't rocking it as a grown-up. But I kept the frame in the hopes I could use it for some great purpose. I bought a piece of foamboard and covered it in brown craft paper. Then I stapled the back flap on each origami cup to a strip of paper, secured the paper strips and the cups to the board with duct tape (on the back) and glue, and stuck it in the frame. Voila! The trip to Hob Lob to get the foamboard took almost as much time as the rest of the project. Oh, except the Pinteresting. But I was doing that anyway. ;)

Each cup has a slip of paper with an easy Christmasy activity on it. Jonny and I both get to write down 12 activities, and neither of us know what the other is writing. So we may end up drinking hot cocoa twice, or sitting through more than one Rankin-Bass special. But I figured that if we both wanted to do it, we would probably like it enough to do it twice. Plus, half of all the activities will be a pleasant surprise! And if it turns out that he writes "kissing under the mistletoe" on every slip of paper...well, Advent is about sacrifice, too. Gee, that will be awfully rough. ;)

Love,

Katie

Keeping up with the Joneses

Earlier today, on Gchat, with Jonny:

11:32 AM me: Ok, I'm in a bit of an acquisition frenzy.

  http://www.overstock.com/Home-Garden/Caravan-Medallion-Multi-Rug-5-x-8/6751220/product.html

11:33 AM wantwantwantwantwantwant

11:36 AM I went to FM and found some fabric...and then I thought, well, I shouldn't buy fabric until I get a rug, and I WANT A RUG AND A FABRIC AND A PERFECT HOUSE AND YARD AND EVERYTHING AND A PONY.

  whew.

  I feel better now.

  seriously though. Forget flowers. Buy me a rug.

  Just kidding.

  Mostly.

  Mostly kidding.

11:37 AM I hope you are amused by this one-sided exchange, and not disgusted with my materialism.

  Or annoyed at having your wife interrupt your work.

11:40 AM How's about we don't buy anyone Christmas presents this year, and instead buy ourselves presents? I want a rug.

11:41 AM ok, just kidding about that one. Really.
Later, Jonny reminded me that we have been saving eating-out money for occasions such as these, and that my half of the pot o' money was technically enough to buy the rug. (I was planning to save it for a porch swing...well, a yard-swing, since we don't have a porch. But you get the idea.)

12:24 PM me: ...oh.

  damn.

  Now I actually have to consider it.

 Jonny: :)

  Sorry, didn't mean to make things harder.

12:25 PM me: no, it's ok!

  It's not harder. It's just more complicated.

  It's like saying, yes, you can eat the cheesecake, but you have to skip dinner. Instead of just saying, NO CHEESECAKE. MAN UP.

 Jonny: Or, in average person parlance, "It's not harder. It's just harder."

  

I'm a bit childish when I really want something.

Anyway, I debated it all afternoon and tried to envision it in my living room. I read every product review. I imagined stretching out on it and burrowing my face into its cheap low-pile. (It is only $100, after all.) I reminded myself that I will only do this once, because after Gus spits up on it a few times, it will smell like sour milk. I pictured myself cleaning spit-up off the rug every 24 hours.

But our living room desperately needs a textile infusion - it looks and feels cold and uninviting. And I thought it would be much easier to match new drapes to a rug I already have than it would be to try to buy a rug online and match it to my drapes. (Colors are never quite what you expect.)

So I clicked "Confirm Purchase," and felt that lovely adrenaline rush that only spending moderate to large sums of money can give me. And there was much squee-ing. And hopefully when it arrives next Monday, it will be just right, and not too orange, or too beige, or too brown, or...

It will be just right.

(Hopefully.)

Love, 

Katie

When the baby doesn't sleep

When the baby doesn't sleep
I cuss and slam the doors
I cry, "I am the Babe
Destroyer of Sleep
Ruiner of ambition
Bringer of despair!"

I scream and throw things
He screams too
We scream at each other

And then I stomp away
To the closet where I keep the sheets
I fling open the doors
Grabbing at the stack of towels
The old ones Grandma gave me to clean baby messes
(because, when you're young, all your towels are new)
I bury my face into the threadbare terrycloth
and sob and scream, chest heaving
and I smell my grandmother

And she is here, with her baby
Crying tears that burn
And her baby is here too, with her baby
In the middle of the night
And we're all screaming together
Banging our fists against the wooden slats
The baby, the mother, the grandmother, the great-grandmother
And I am not alone

I go back to my baby
Draw him from the crib
And wrap him in the crocheted afghan
That my mother used to wrap me in

We rock and rock and rock
as he sobs, tiny chest heaving
and I whisper,
"It's ok, I'm here."

Changing the world

When I was young, I set out to change the world. When I grew older, I perceived that this was too ambitious, so I set out to change my state. This too, I realized as I grew older was too ambitious, so I set out to change my town. When I realized I could not even do this, I tried to change my family. Now, as an old man, I know that I should have started by changing myself. If I had started with myself, maybe then I would have succeeded in changing my family, the town, or even the state - and who knows, maybe even the world! 

- Unknown Rabbi

I don't know where this quote comes from. (Maybe I should ask a librarian!) I heard it in a sermon last week. But it has been true to my experience, at least recently. God does a lot of fantastic miracles, but one of the most incredible is the healing and sanctifying of his children's souls. I think sometimes the world (and the Enemy) can distract us from this holy work by confronting us with "larger, more important" problems to worry and pray about: war, famine, elections, sickness. We certainly should think and pray about such things. But so many times when I bring these things to God, He responds by bringing to light the dark hidden places within myself that He wants to right. Perhaps healing a broken world starts by healing broken people.

A Dream Deferred

A Dream Deferred

Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up 

like a raisin in the sun? 

Or fester like a sore-- 

And then run? 

Does it stink like rotten meat? 

Or crust and sugar over-- 

like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags 

like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

What I'm reading...

When I worked at the library, I had no shortage of books on my "to-read" list, since interesting titles would come my way all the time. Now I'm a little more out of the loop, so I have to actively search for something to read next week. I generally try to have at least four books out at once: A fiction book, a nonfiction book, an audiobook (so I don't get bored when I have to do mom-things), and a God-book. So here's what's on my shelf this week, and maybe you can make some suggestions for me!

Fiction Book: Beauty and the Werewolf, by Mercedes Lackey (most recent book in the Five Hundred Kingdoms series)

This is book 6 of the series. In the world of the five hundred kingdoms, a mindless force called The Tradition influences mortals to shape their lives into stories that it recognizes. For example, let's say a father dies, leaving his only daughter in the care of her stepmother and two stepsisters. The Tradition is going to do everything it can to make the stepmother evil and the stepsisters jealous and petty, and then to get the daughter rescued by a handsome prince. But The Tradition just wants fairy tales...not necessarily those with happy endings - a girl could just as easily be shoehorned into becoming a "Little Matchstick Girl."

Godmothers and others who know about the Tradition work to manipulate it into positive stories and outcomes. For example, a girl who wants to fight a dragon might first disguise herself as a boy, since she knows The Tradition favors the heroic-girl-soldier-posing-as-a-boy story. She might then find herself learning key fighting skills twice as fast, since The Tradition has taken an interest in making her live up to her heroic potential.

I would actually love to run an RPG in this setting, where PCs could get significant bonuses to rolls if they were invoking a Traditional path.

Nonfiction Book: Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day by Jeff Hertzberg and Zoe Francois

Sounds great, doesn't it? The trick is that they mix up a big batch of dough at the beginning of a two week period, and then just bake it a loaf at a time (that's the "five minutes" part). The title's a bit deceptive, but not all bread dough recipes can hold up to storage in this way, so at least this gives me a start. A few of the dough recipes can be used in multiple variations (one dough can be used to make regular loaves, pita bread, or pretzels), but the book lacks the indexing necessary to make this as useful as it could be. *librarian peeve - needs more metadata*

Audiobook: Justice Hall by Laurie R. King

I've been reading/listening to the Mary Russell series, and this is number six. It's essentially a Sherlock Holmes fanfic (but good) - he "retires" to the country to keep bees and takes on a young female apprentice. They investigate things. Mary Russell's insufferable perfection irritated me at first, but then I remembered that Sherlock Holmes is about the same breed of insufferable, and sure enough, I came to like Mary too.

A condition for my audiobooks is that they must contain no scenes that I would uncomfortably skim over while reading them...because when it's all spoken, you just have to sit there and listen to it and blush. So only very prim and proper, non-graphic mystery novels for me, so far.

God book: The Selfless Way of Christ: Downward Mobility and the Spiritual Life by Henri J. M. Nouwen

Great book - very quick but dense read, like a sermon series in a book. I read "Letters to Marc about Jesus," so when I heard about this from a friend's blog, I requested it from Mobius. Nouwen argues that the Christian life is really the opposite of "upward mobility," which he compares to the temptations of Christ in the desert - the temptation to be powerful, relevant, and spectacular.

Some excerpts that particularly hit me:

To be a person and to be seen, praised, liked, and accepted have become nearly the same for many. Who am I when nobody pays attention, says thanks, or recognizes my work? The more insecure, doubtful, and lonely we are, the greater our need for popularity and praise. Sadly, this hunger is never satisfied. The more praise we receive, the more we desire. The hunger for human acceptance is like a bottomless barrel. It can never be filled.

Later, he writes something that ties in nicely with this post I made a few months ago:

For most of us it is very hard to spend a useless hour with God. It is hard precisely because by facing God alone we are also facing our own inner chaos. We come in direct confrontation with our restlessness, anxieties, resentments, unresolved tensions, hidden animosities, and long-standing frustrations. Our spontaneous reaction to all this is to run away and get busy again, so that we can at least make ourselves believe that things are not as bad as they seem in our solitude.
The truth is that things are bad, even worse than they seem. It is this painful stripping away of the old self, this falling away from all our old support systems that enables us to cry out for the unconditional mercy of God. When we do not run away in fear, but patiently stay with our struggles, the outer space of solitude gradually becomes an inner space, a space in our heart where we come to know the presence of the Spirit who has already been given to us. In the solitude of our heart we can listen to our questions and - as the German poet Rilke says so beautifully - gradually grow, without even noticing it, into the answer.

Overly-long post, I know. Can you recommend some more books for me? What are you reading?

On giving until it hurts...or doesn't

Gus-Gus is six months old on Friday. I can't believe it's been half a year. Just think:

I live that amount of time again, and he'll be a year old.

I live it seven more times, and he'll be starting kindergarten.

I've been thinking about Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree lately. It was one of my favorite books as a child, before I realized it was about parents.

If you haven't read the story, there is a video of Shel narrating an animated version here. It is rather melancholy, so take care if you have mommy hormones.

The tree gives and gives and gives until she becomes just an old stump. And then the ungrateful little boy/old man sits on her. And she's happy. As if mom-culture didn't have enough guilt in it already. Sure. Reduce me to a stump. Take everything I have. And if I am sad about it, obviously I just don't love you enough.

But I think there's two types of giving here - the renewable kind and the nonrenewable kind. And making peace with the first helped me with the second. 

At first, the boy and the tree play together. She gives him shade, and apples, and leaves, and cuddles. These things don't take anything away from the tree...or if they do, they grow back. Apples fall every autumn and grow back in the summer. Leaves bud in the spring, no matter how many times you rip them off and make crowns from them. 

We make small sacrifices all the time. We stay up late for heart-wrenching conversations with family. We postpone lunch with a friend because a child is sick. We spend an afternoon volunteering instead of playing board games with friends. We wake in the middle of the night to soothe a crying baby. We give twenty dollars to hungry people instead of eating at a restaurant. We can always sleep later. We can always have fun some other time. And sometimes when we give, especially if we do something pleasing to God, I think He blesses us - with five hours of sleep that's surprisingly more restful than it should be, or an unexpected peaceful moment in the grocery store. It's true that sometimes He doesn't - there's no guarantee that you'll be blessed if you give. But I've learned to have confidence that even if He doesn't bless me, at least He gets me through.

But then, the book brings out the heavy sacrifices - the ones that eventually reduce the tree to bits. The boy sells her apples, builds a house from her branches, and uses her trunk to build a ship and sail the world. Here's where the giving seems unjust - how can making such large sacrifices give the tree such delight?

What if she hadn't given the boy those things? She would have kept them for a while, maybe shared them with another child or two. But what she never gives them to anyone? If she keeps them all to herself? Eventually, the fruit will stop bearing, limbs will break and wither, and even her trunk will rot. She'll still become a stump. But the boy wouldn't have gotten his house, or his boat. And she wouldn't have been as happy, seeing her good gifts go to waste. 

We have to give our lives to something, or some things. And for now, I've chosen to meet the needs of my child. And my husband. And my friends and family. And most of all, to seek after God. God willing, I will live to give months and years of my life to many worthy things. I just hope that I can always give it joyfully and intentionally, rather than wasting it on anxiety or fear or tvtropes. Because I only get so much of it, and trying to hoard time is just ridiculous. 

Love,

Katie

He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose."  - Jim Elliot

Josh and Kara

I'm so unhappy when I have to say goodbye to friends.

I don't know what heaven is like, except that I'm pretty sure Jesus will be in charge and that we'll get to see loved ones again. 

I used to think eternity might be boring - what will we do? 

That was before people I loved started moving away.

Maybe just being with all of the people that you love, and knowing you have all the time you want with them, and never wondering when or how you will be separated, is enough.

If I won the Publisher's Clearing House sweepstakes, or in some other way came into a large sum of money, I would buy a huge amount of land and pay all of the people I care about to live there with me. After tithing, of course.

I suppose that doesn't leave much room for all their hopes and ambitions. 

But we could have goats. I would feed and milk the goats and Sadie could make the goat milk into cheese. Sean could make vegetables grow, and Renee could...live in a house on the corner of the land that's right next to town.

And Kara and Josh could just live there. They could preach if they wanted to. But they don't even have to pull weight - they could just come and freeload off my massive winnings so that I could have the pleasure of their friendship and company.

Ok, I guess that's not realistic.

Kara would probably insist on pulling her own weight.

And I guess the land wouldn't be big enough to hold all the people I care about (the above was just a tiny, tiny sampling, I promise).

And I don't think God wants us to just hide away with our friends and live nice little lives.

Oh, and I don't have a large sum of money. Right.

Still, it would be nice.

I hope Philadelphia knows how good they have it.

Music Video Monday: Safety Dance

I think the only excuse for not finding and loving this music video earlier than this is that it's older than I am. But it is now firmly on my list of favorite ridiculous 80s music videos.



I think it's actually a metaphor for the communist revolution - they're all wearing red, and marching, and then it quickly devolves into chaos and destruction. Those chicken masks have to symbolize something.

I also think Anthony C should dress as this guy for Halloween.

Music Video Monday: A Professional Pirate

More of a movie scene than a music video, but I couldn't resist. In honor of Pirate Dan's birthday:

Pirates, Muppets, and the immortal Tim Curry. What's not to love?

And now for something completely different:

I'm not generally an introspective person. I'm not very comfortable with myself, so I tend to fill up my mind with tasks, to-do lists, projects - always planning the next five minutes, the next day, the next week. I'm comfortable analyzing myself. I'm an ESFJ, I'm a lion (a task-oriented quick-decider), I know my strengths. But actually spending time with myself, examining who I am and what I want, freaks me out sometimes.

I never realized how much a job joyfully distracted me from such heart-wrenching self-reckoning. Talking to other people, driving to work, and doing my job filled up the minutes of my days almost entirely, leaving me no time alone with my thoughts. While introverts rue their lack of contemplative time, I consider it a delightful bonus; I can glide through my days on to-do lists, never considering my place in the universe.

While I'm certainly not gaining any free time while staying home, I am gaining significant self-time. Not alone-time, when I don't have a baby in my arms/crib/house and I can do what I really want/need to do in order to recharge. But time by myself, alone with my thoughts and a baby who won't be capable of distracting me from them until he's at least ten, and by then he'll have more important people to talk to.* I feel almost as if I've been put in time-out with my feelings. "Just sit there and think about who you are." And who I am is frightening.

When I'm really left alone with myself, I'm plagued by fear. Considering my blessings and my joys only seizes me with the fear of losing them. I live a comfortable life in a beautiful home, but I've read too much dystopian fiction (and historical fact); I know that nations that are rich and powerful can lose it all in a disaster, an uprising, a new emerging power. I have a beautiful baby boy, but I hear reports on the news; children die everyday of hunger, illness, and sheer absent-mindedness, which I've certainly been guilty of.**


I grieve that these tragedies occur and for the people they affect. But mostly I am afraid. I am afraid these things will happen to me. It's an entirely selfish fear; it springs less from wanting to protect Gus and more from wanting to spare myself hurt. I know this because when I examine my fear, when I imagine the worst, the worst is this:

Something terrible will happen, and it will be my fault. I will make some kind of epic mistake, and all my earthly joys will disappear and be replaced by guilt and grief for the rest of my life.***

I try to do damage control. I pray for the victims of tragedy. I donate money and time. I cry. But nothing alleviates my fear and guilt. Confronted with my own brokenness, I can't turn anywhere but to God. I need Him so much more than I ever have, just to get through the day. I need to cling to Him as the source of life and meaning, because He can never be stolen from me (or rather, I cannot be stolen from Him!).


The title of this blog, "A Nice Little Life," comes from John Eldredge's Walking With God:

I want two things that are mutually opposed—I want to live a nice little life, and I want to play an important role in God’s kingdom. And it’s in those times that I am trying to live a nice little life that I make decisions and choices that cause me in small and subtle ways to live outside of Jesus. The shepherd is headed one direction, and I am headed another. Not some flagrant sin—that’s too easy to recognize. Instead, I’m simply wandering off looking for the pasture I deem best. I don’t even think to ask God about it. A very dangerous way of thinking. As Christians we don’t get to live a ‘normal’ life, and accepting that fact in all the details of our lives is what allows us to remain in Jesus. 

In the same book, he writes:


And so God must, from time to time, and sometimes very insistently, disrupt our lives so that we release our grasping of life here and now.  Usually through pain.  God is asking us to let go of the things we love and have given our hearts over to, so that we can give our hearts more fully to him.  He thwarts us in our attempts to make life work so that our efforts fail, and we must face the fact that we don’t really look to God for life.  Our first reaction is usually to get angry with him, which only serves to make the point.

I created this blog to talk about the small things: the to-do lists, the books I read, the places I go. By choosing this title, I was making a deliberate choice to talk about only safe things. Obviously, that's no longer the case. But I felt like this was the only thing I could say without ignoring a huge part of my life for the last two months. (Which is also why you haven't gotten any progress on the to-do list, btw.)

Perhaps I should rename it. I'm open to suggestions.

But even if I do rename it, you can't expect me to think this deeply all the time. It makes my head hurt. Plus it doesn't feel nearly as safe as a cute kitten video.

Love,

Katie

*Gus-Gus is great at distracting me from simple thoughts, such as, "I am going to fold the laundry now," or, "The bathtub is running." As these thoughts are the ones that distract me from deep thoughts, this only complicates the problem.

**The News-Leader reported today that a toddler in KC died after his mother left him in a car. She thought she had dropped him at daycare, and she accidentally left him in her car as she worked an eight hour shift. I can't even imagine the pain she and her family are experiencing - rather, I can imagine, and it's terrifying. See above.

***In my moments of despair, I can attribute nearly anything to a mistake on my part. Terrorist nuclear attack? That's what I get for enjoying American prosperity for too long. Zombie apocalypse? Should have learned how to use a shotgun and stockpiled canned food.

****That and my limited success in accomplishing it. Note to self: stop posting to-do lists, because then people actually expect you to complete them.

Music Video Monday: Pollywog in a Bog

This week's video is in honor of my nephew Joshua - "Pollywog in a Bog" by Barenaked Ladies. With puppets. Check out their album, Snacktime, if you want to listen to some children's music that doesn't suck.

Happy birthday, Joshua!

Sick Day

I made some progress on last week's to do list...but not much. My desk is still clean-ish, and now the bed is even cleared off. I did manage to organize my fabric scraps into a few projects, but I haven't started on the yarn or other craft supplies. No baby-proofing or closet cleaning, either. I did manage to stay up until four this morning, though. (I needed to wash diapers, then I was wide awake and couldn't sleep, then I was finishing Catching Fire.)

This lack of progress on the list is mainly due to the cold I caught last Thursday (excuses, excuses). So today I had the following conversation with myself:

All right, you. Nap.

I don't want to. *pout* Naps are boring. And I have lots of stuff to do.

You are sick. You need to get better. 

Yeah, I guess. But I'm not tired. 

Look here. Hot soup. Vicks Vaporub. Now.

Ok! I don't mind those things. Food = good. And vaporub does not interfere with any fun I want to have! Deedleedee!

No way, missie. To bed with ye.

*channels Chip from Beauty and the Beast* But I'm not sleepy!

Bed. Now.

Ok. But at least I have seven overdue library books and a plethora of electronic devices to amuse me!

*taps foot impatiently*

Look, if I get sleepy, I swear, I'll take a nap. And I won't get up from bed unless it's necessary. But don't take away my toys!

I suppose this is the best we can do. You are impossible.

*childish snicker*

Music Video Monday: Somebody that I used to know

This week's video brought to you by the letter O and the number 5.

O is for Overplayed - which is what "Somebody That I Used to Know" is getting to be on my radio station. Great song, but it's quickly bordering on tedious.

5 is for five members of the a cappella group Pentatonix, which won the last season of The Sing-Off on NBC - definitely my favorite reality show/singing competition.

Thank you, number 5, from rescuing this song from the letter O.

Staycation

My last official day at the library was Thursday, so I'm officially a housewife/full-time mom. But since my arm is still broken, and I can't lift my baby (or at least I shouldn't) he's still in full-time daycare until it heals. Which leaves me all dressed up in heels and pearls with no floor to vacuum, so to speak. Gus's last day of daycare will be July 13th, barring any unforeseen problems with the healing process (so far, it's gone really well). Which gives me an entire two and a half weeks of stay-at-home-not-mom, Today-Show-watching, bon-bon-eating bliss.

After spending the first two days floundering around and half-accomplishing things, I decided I need a plan. For some people *cough cough Jonny cough* to-do lists are overwhelming and distressing, but for me a plan is like exercise - sure, I might want to skip it, but if I do, I feel guilty and not-awesome, so a 20-minute workout would have saved me hours of worrying and unproductiveness.* Plus, creating and accomplishing a list of tasks makes me feel like a rock star, and who doesn't want that?

So here is my vacation list - my hopes and aspirations for the next few weeks:

1. Develop an exercise habit. Going to the Y with a baby is only marginally harder than going without one (and certainly easier than packing him for daycare), so I want to get in the habit of going several times a week. Plus five minutes of walking and stretching on the off days (five minutes is once around the block - so easy! And I can stretch while I play with Gus on the floor).

2. Develop a devotional habit. Daily Bible reading and prayer, even if it's only five minutes.

3. Clean out my closets. Boy howdy, does this need done.

4. Get an oil change. Done! And they found and fixed a hole in my tire, too. My tires are nail-magnets, apparently.

5. Clean off my desk and keep it clean. Desk is clean. Bed behind it is full of junk that was on the desk.

6. Blog more.


7. Help out other mommas. Where I can, of course. I can't hold their baby either, but I can watch toddlers or just keep an eye out while they do things they are itching to get done. Time is a blessing few moms receive, so I need to be thankful and tithe on all my blessings. Plus, otherwise I'd get lonely.

8. Get a haircut. Haven't decided yet whether this will be a trim or a mom haircut. We'll see.

9. Childproof the house. Crawling is only a short time away!

10. Prioritize pending projects. I have supplies and ideas for so many projects that I'm not even sure what I have or what I want to do. I want to make a list (ok, so I have a list obsession) so I know where to start, and don't freeze in panic when I do have ten spare minutes.

I think I'll stop there - ten is a nice round number. But expect sublists in the future!

Love,

Katie

*In fact, the amount of unscheduled time in Jonny's Saturday is usually directly proportional to his enjoyment of it. Since I am freaked out by unscheduled time and Jon needs it to function, I often plan (in my mind) to leave unscheduled time for him...but of course, I can't tell him when that's happening, since that would kind of defeat the purpose. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the intricacies of a marriage between a task-oriented ESFJ and a people-oriented INTP.

Music Video Monday

Thursday was my last day at the library, and now the real work begins. But full-time moms need social outlets, so hopefully you'll be seeing a bit more activity around here in the months to come. Silly babies and their rearranging-of-all-life's-goals-and-aspirations.

To encourage consistency, I'm introducing a series called Music Video Monday (not entirely a new concept). Because even if I don't feel like being creative, surely I can at least find a good music video, right? Kick off the work week with a smile.

This week's video is Fatboy Slim's cover of "The Joker" by the Steve Miller Band, in honor of my older brother's birthday this week, because he used to go around singing it all the time in high school. I prefer the original song, but Fatboy Slim's video is superior to many things on the internet. Thanks, Sadie, for introducing us.*



Happy Monday!

*Introducing me to the video, not me to my brother. Of course.

Babytalk

An exchange between August and me, after a long day of traveling (and lots of screaming from the backseat):

Katie: Ok, time to go back into the carseat. I know you don't want to.

Gus: *raises his eyebrows, looks away*

But we have to. To keep you safe. 

*looks back at me* "Ehh...eh, eh"

If you don't go back in the carseat, we can't go home. We'd sit in this parking lot forever. You want to go home, don't you?

"...Eh!"

So into the seat! We're going home!

*coos and smiles*

Aww! I love you! And you love me too, don't you!

<pause>

*spits up*

...I'll take that as a yes.

Nursery Tour

One brand-spanking new nursery, eagerly awaiting New Baby's arrival:

Obligatory "Before" picture:

I can place the blame for the paint color solely on the house's previous residents.

And the "After":

Dawww...

Bookshelf with baskets on clearance at Hob Lob, a ring sling my mom made (I helped), art by crafty Heidi, and books (of course). The birdcage on top is filled with baby cards, and the sippy cup is actually from my mother's childhood (and thus only for decoration).

I made the tree by painting the branches in white, cutting leaves out of fabric, and applying them to the wall with a cornstarch-water solution.

That baby blanket is the one my Grandma made for me. DAWW!

Rebecca already took awesome photos of the bird mobile that put mine to shame:

The mobile instructions are here; the hanging birds underneath are here.

And the crowning achievement, the Alphabet Wall:

My favorite is the Luigi "L." And the Z. And the K...

But believe it or not, it all started with this chair:

I know it sounds crazy, but I was debating several color schemes for this room, and I picked this one because it would go with the chair. The chair called to me at a yard sale (I believe it said something like, "Only $3? Please don't leave me here with these people - obviously they have no idea how awesome I am!") but it's a bit old and fragile. I can't always count on guests to be gracious sitters, so I've tried to keep it out of the main rooms, which before now meant keeping it in the guest room. But now there's no room for it in the guest room/office combo, so if I didn't find some way to work it into the nursery, it was goodbye. So I picked a yellow paint, and meandered about a bit until I found the fabric I used for the window shade. That pulled the whole thing together.

Thanks to Mom for making sure it all actually happened. Now there's nothing to do but wait...

Love,

Katie