April 13, 2009

grace in small things: Thalon

My friend Shana’s baby son passed away yesterday; he was wee and precious and perfect, and my mama heart is breaking for her.

Sarah has set up a PayPay account to help with Thalon’s medical bills and funeral expenses. Her heart is breaking, too.

For those of you who have had the pleasure of meeting Shana in real life, you know she is quite the Mama Bear. Long before she birthed her three beautiful children, she was the kind of friend that would fight dragons tooth and nail for you. Fiercely protective. Loyal. She might even throw a Cape Cod in the face of your nemesis. You know, the kind of person you always want on your side.

However, behind that boisterous Mama Bear exterior lies the most enormous, the most feeling heart you could ever encounter. In all honesty, she’s a total sap.

There is no grace in the death of a child; there is only a crushing sadness. But all these arms reaching out to Shana, all these prayers and messages and offers of help and condolence — maybe that’s where the grace is.Please keep Shana and her family in your thoughts today, and please hug your children. Tight.

April 10, 2009

86. Use what you have

Austin, March 2009

The following things are piled on the table in our foyer (organizing project? what organizing project???):

Paint swatches. We’ve finished the downstairs; now we’re working our way slowly through the upstairs. Swatches include all the paints we’ve used so far plus the final candidates for the guest room, the hallway, and the playroom. Before we actually paint, though, so much time will have passed that we will have completely rethunk all our choices and will have to start over with new chips.

Henry’s class picture. The kids all had to wear their dress uniforms for the class photo, but since it’s the end of the year, the boys’ shirts are all too small and their pants are all too short. And it was a warm day, so everyone is wearing a short sleeved shirt with a tie. They look like they’ve been transported back to the early 1970s. Classic.

Two paintings Charlie made at school. I’ll be honest with you: I throw out 90% of what my kids bring home from school. In the morning, when I’m packing their lunches in their school bags, I pull out all the papers they’ve brought home, flip through them to see what’s what, and then toss them on the table. Wade goes through them while he eats his cereal and talks to the kids about what’s going on in class. After breakfast, I clear the table and toss the papers; anything that’s a keeper (which is virtually nothing, really) goes upstairs to be framed or stored.

Two Schleich knights. We have a whole army of these; they’re not poseable, they don’t shoot things, they don’t make any noise, but the kids love them. These two are from the same regiment, although one has a sword and one has a crossbow.

Flyer for swim lessons. Henry says he doesn’t need swim lessons this summer; I disagree, but I don’t know why I’m keeping the flyer, since it’s for a woman who comes to your house and teaches your kids to swim in your pool and we don’t have a pool. I’m trying to talk up diving lessons, though — I think that would be fun.

Circle pin that belonged to my great aunt. I found it in her night stand when we were cleaning out her room. It’s little and delicate and will be perfect on my beaded cardigan. Very 1950s housewife-ish.

Star Wars junior novella. In an effort to get Henry to read something other than Batman comics, Wade bought him this novel. Henry read most of it in the car on the way home from the bookstore, and then finished the entire book that day. And then went back to reading Batman comics.

Easter cards from my parents. My mom sent the boys new khaki shorts and polo shirts, which they are pretty ambivalent about, and cool t-shirts with sports stuff on them, which they love. Henry read both their cards out loud, in a funny voice, and made Charlie laugh and laugh and laugh.

Thanks to Maggie for the inspiration.

April 9, 2009

I’m also having chest pains, but that’s not nearly as entertaining

Last night I dreamed that I was interviewing Heather Armstrong but I was in the hospital and couldn’t leave, so she came to my room so we could do the interview there. Chris came, too, for moral support, but she got in my hospital bed and wouldn’t get out and then she was telling jokes about not wearing underwear and Heather couldn’t stop laughing long enough to answer questions, which was fine because I didn’t have any questions for her anyway.

Then we were all riding around Austin in a taxi and I was trying to get Heather to tell me what percentage of the time she felt like she was a good parent (60%? 75%? 18%?) and Jon Armstrong was driving the cab, very badly, and every time he rounded a corner, Chris went flying through the air over our heads.

And I woke up and thought, Shit all I have to write about is how Chris doesn’t wear underwear.

April 7, 2009

in more interesting news, I’m growing my hair out

Last night, while the kids were getting in their pajamas, I was digging through the pile of crap assortment of things that have accumulated next to the bed, trying to find the book Charlie and I have been reading. I have a little old fashioned book table that we use for the lamp and the alarm clock and whatever we’re reading; it has a neat little v-shaped shelf in the bottom so that you can stand your books up and see the titles. This shelf was jammed full of books no one has read in oh I don’t know how long; the space under the table was piled high with Lucky magazines going back months and picture books the kids had dragged into our room on various nights.

It was a mess.

I started sorting everything into piles, based on where it was actually supposed to live: playroom, office, my neighbor’s house, the giveaway bag. Eventually I found Charlie’s book, but first I found a signed copy of Donna Smallin’s The One Minute Organizer Plain & Simple. I have no idea where I got it, or why my copy is signed, but I started reading it, right there, sitting in the half-sorted piles while the kids were running up and down the hall.

(Which gives you a little insight into my current organizational dilemmas, yes?)

Smallin breaks organizing down into very basic tasks: sorting your sock drawer, clearing the kitchen counter, emptying one drawer in the bathroom. She suggests making organizing a daily task, but she also suggests keeping the time you spend organizing to under 15 minutes a day, if possible.

And she also suggests that you tell someone about your organizing project, in order to make it real. So I’m telling you, Internet! I am going to get organized! One drawer at a time.

Tonight I cleaned out the cabinet under the sink on my side of the bathroom. I threw away the deodorant that smells like candy and the two almost-empty lotion bottles and the glasses case that I have always hated. I found my self-tanner in the back of the cabinet, which is great because I wore a skirt today without tights and I think I blinded a couple of people at Starbucks this morning (so sorry you all). I found a bag of 300 cotton balls, which was funny because I just bought a new bag of 300 cotton balls yesterday because we were out of cotton balls. I found a can of volumizing mousse, thank god, because I’m serious about growing my hair out and right now I look like a mushroom with really pale legs.

I have a long list of Things I Want to Organize (the playroom, the laundry, the piles of I don’t know what all on the bar, my laptop) but when I think about that list I get tired and give up. I also tend to over think individual things, like that Stila eye shadow that turned out to be blue, not gray, and that never really worked because I wanted gray not blue, and I paid EIGHTEEN WHOLE DOLLARS for that eye shadow, and it’s STILA for god’s sake, what’s not to LIKE? other than the color, of course, which is all wrong.

That kind of attitude makes it hard to get rid of the clutter, you know. I mean, what if I decide after I toss that eye shadow that I really liked it? Even though I’ve had it in my makeup bag for I don’t know how long and have never liked it, at all, and every time I look at it I kick myself for buying it in the first place.

(I just got up and threw the eye shadow in the trash. Go me.)

Tomorrow I’m going to get all the laundry out of my bedroom. I might even put the kids’ clothes away in their rooms! Although I wouldn’t want to overdo on day two, so I’ll probably just pile their stuff on the chairs in their rooms. Baby steps, people, baby steps.