This is a blog about our journey to simplify. It was inspired by the birth of our son - an event that simultaneously complicated and clarified our purpose in life. This blog is about how to “get to living” one footstep at a time so that he grows up spirited but centered. We are looking for ways to simplify, big or small, and incorporating them into our life as a family.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
WHISTLE WHILE WE WORK
Monday, November 29, 2010
UNEXPECTED GIFTS
The thoughtful gift that got our Christmas season started. |
Saturday, November 27, 2010
THE PHOTO SHOOT (a digital short
Friday, November 26, 2010
A NEW OLD FRIEND
Canine friends are the best |
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
MENTALLY LOST IN WAL-MART
Four of the five items I bought at Wal-Mart last night. The comforter was already in the wash. |
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
33 "Thank Yous"
Sometimes No. 1 is not the best place to be. A child's second Christmas is always more memorable than the first. Turning 10 years old is so much more thrilling than turning 9 just because of an extra digit. Each anniversary of marriage or other commitment signifies another year of choosing to be together through thick and thin.
This year is my 33rd Thanksgiving. While I can guarantee that I was blissfully unaware of the meaning for at least the first few years, the significance of the holiday has grown immensely with each passing year. Just as there are milestones in human development there are milestones in understanding.
The year I understood that not everyone gets to eat Thanksgiving dinner.
The year I knew a family that didn't get to eat it.
The year I first tried to change that by donating money and canned goods to a charity.
The year I realized that canned goods and money once a year isn't enough.
I imagine that even if I live to be a very old woman with many Thanksgivings under my belt, I will never understand why some of us have overflowing baskets of food, shelter and love while others struggle to get by. As one person I can't move a mountain to make it better for everyone. That task is going to take many of us.
Starting this year though I can begin to support the mind and heart of another person who hopefully will choose to join in on that journey. For me, year 33 is when I begin explaining to the Little One why we come together to celebrate all that we have. He is the biggest thing I have to be grateful for this year- the most wonderful gift. It is the least I can do to say, "Thank you."
Monday, November 22, 2010
TIME FOR CHANGE
Sunday, November 21, 2010
THE NEW TRICK (a digital short)
Friday, November 19, 2010
AWAKENED
Thursday, November 18, 2010
HANGING WITH HIS BOYS
Overall good guy Dave stopped by the home to help us remove wallpaper just after we moved in a year ago. |
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
"L" IS FOR LEARNING
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
DOING IT OUR WAY
Three months ago, we were together all day. Starting today, we all have our own places to be. |
Monday, November 15, 2010
FORGET THE JONES'S
We love our neighborhood. It was one of the first things that attracted us to our house. During the summer families, couples and friends walk up and down the wide, quiet street. On Halloween loads of children wander to our door wearing costumes and asking for candy. In the winter neighbors help each other shovel snow from our driveways. When the weather starts to warm up in the spring those same neighbors chat with each other from our respective yards as we garden. It is a modest neighborhood, but comfortable.
That said, sometimes it's hard to keep up with the Jones's. In our case, it is near impossible most of the time. Our house is a fixer-upper and there are days when I think we could wallpaper the living room with our to-do list. Since we worked so hard to get the old 1970's paper off those walls and since our last name isn't Rockefeller, we've had to accept that we won't get the showroom house of our dreams completed over night. We are making slow progress on the inside, but the outside has changed little from the day we first saw it. It is, by no exaggeration, the house on our block that needs a face-lift the most. I've never heard any snickering, but I can't imagine that the pealing paint and tired landscaping is earning us or the neighborhood any equity.
We are trying though, and that counts for something. Little by little we are digging out the old and planting the new. This past spring The Husband tackled an ugly hedge to the ground and pregnant me wore a face mask to keep dirt from my mouth as I dug a new garden. It is discouraging though to walk past peeling paint each day. On down days I'm envious of my neighbor's newer siding and thick, green lawn. Envy is an ugly thing, so lately, when caring for The Little One gives us even less time for outside chores, I'm making mental lists of the things we have accomplished.
Yesterday, we added two things to that list. Nothing fancy- we raked the yard and cleaned out the gutters. Like the Jones's we have ten yard waste bags filled with leaves. We also have a deep appreciation for the playtime, bath time and mealtime that kept us from doing more of these chores. That attitude may not get the house painted, but it will fill it with happiness. I think we made the right choice.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
GOOD DOG, CARL (a digital short)
Friday, November 12, 2010
ALL BECAUSE OF GRACE
Many acts of kindness made the book possible. |
Thursday, November 11, 2010
BABY IT'S COLD OUTSIDE
We did it. We turned the heat on in the house. Actually, we turned it on a couple of weeks ago, but until this week it only kicked on a couple of times a day. Now that the Little One is around we decided to add a few degrees to the near-chilly 66 degrees that we have kept the thermostat set to in winters past. The house is bearable with warm clothes on but not the comfy 75 plus degrees that I'd prefer.
The change in temperature brought on an unplanned chore today. As I put away our laundry it was painfully clear that it will be several months until I can wear the short-sleeve tops and light pants that were still in my closet. It was time for the big clothing switch-er-oo.
Out with the summer clothes and in come sweaters, long pants and dressy scarves. It only took about 10 minutes to gather everything and put it in neat piles on our bed. Then I trudged down the hall to the Little One's room and grabbed the "sad pile." By that I mean the two large gift bags that have been sitting on the floor collecting clothes he is now too big to wear. We call it the "sad pile" because it gives our hearts a little tug in two directions to both see how much he is growing and to remember the tiny guy we brought home who fit into the newborn Redsox onesie.
I stood next to my bed and sighed as I tried to figure out how to contain the mountain of clothes before me. We have a designated storage spot downstairs, but somehow the plastic bins we usually use had found another purpose in the house. I was clueless for a minute when I remembered that the Little One's frequent diaper-filling habit meant that we also own a collection of large, empty diaper boxes. Once again, but not in the usual way, Pampers saved the day.
In the end, the boxes were the perfect fit. I loaded, closed and labeled five in all. Our closets and drawers are not the cramped mess they were this morning. And downstairs, in a dry, dark, cozy corner of the house, our family's summer clothes are tucked in for a long winter's nap. I'm sad that it is cold outside, but take comfort in knowing the joy I will feel when I open those boxes next spring. I wonder what I will wear first?
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
GOODBYE, FOR NOW
Watching Grandpa read to the Little One was a great experience. |
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
WARM THOUGHTS
Monday, November 8, 2010
ALWAYS A SILVER LINING
If I cleared the driveway, this blog entry would not have happened. |
Sunday, November 7, 2010
WAITING FOR GRANDPA (a digital short)
Friday, November 5, 2010
MONKEY SEE MONKEY DO
Parenting is the best job in the world. It is also the hardest. We knew what we were getting into though when we had the Little One, and we welcome all of the responsibilities that come with him. His "owner's manual" is quite thick but luckily it is written in a language that we (usually) understand.
At the top of the list of responsibilities, after providing for his basic needs and loving him unconditionally, is being a good role model. It is a job that goes beyond the basics of eating right, exercising, telling the truth and keeping our language clean. There is a big bucket of things we are working on doing better than we did pre-baby. We now eat
vegetables with dinner every night, even the kinds that are not our favorites. We go to bed in darkness and quiet instead of to the sound of the TV. We read every night, even if they are kid's books. And, starting today, I wear my glasses.
Glasses? Yes, that seems to be something that I shouldn't need to make a habit of doing. Like all bad habits though, I have a background story that explains (makes an excuse) for not wearing them.
When I got my glasses almost three years ago the doctor advised me to, "Wear them as much as you want." She did not say this to go easy on me or because I don't have a need for them. She said it because she knew I could function fairly well without them. Like many people, I have an astigmatism. Fine details are out of focus, similar to the difference between regular television and high definition television. I like it, but can survive without high definition.
About a year ago now, when we were expecting the Little One, morning sickness hit me hard. There were days when brushing my teeth and putting my hair in a lazy pony tail were as detailed as I got. During this foggy time my glasses stayed in their pretty little case in the bottom of my purse.
Then, a few months ago, I stopped at Panera Bread for lunch and had an awakening. When did they shrink the print of the letter board? Sadly, they hadn't. A kind woman standing in line next to me saw my perplexed face and turned and asked if I was okay.
"Yes, thanks. I just can't see what it says."
Shamefully, I put my hand in my purse and pulled out my glasses. I put them on. You know how this story ends. I read the menu hanging ten feet in front of me. Ten feet.
The Little One came along soon after that day and for awhile I was back in the "tooth brushing and pony tail" mode. He is almost three months old now though and sleeping through the night. Before I know it he will be a talking toddler wondering why I am always squinting at him. I have no more excuses and I have an example to set. I am what I am. I am a thirty-something mommy who wears glasses.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
MOVEMBER MOVEMENT
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
FEEDING THE HEART
A while back we told you about the much needed big dining room table clearing that took place after we finished writing our thank you notes. Once it was done we sighed a huge breath of relief and spent the next week smiling every time we walked by the table. Since that day we've undertaken a couple of quick projects at the table - including making our Halloween costumes last weekend - and cleaned up our messes immediately each time. Other than that though, the table has sat vacant.
That all changed this week. We started a wonderful practice at our house - the family dinner. It all started when we remembered that the Little One's highchair not only reclines but can also be lowered to table height, thus making it possible for him to "sit" with us as we eat. A few weeks ago we tried putting him in the bouncy seat during meals, but this left him awkwardly staring up at us from the floor or down at us from above if we carefully placed the seat on the table between us. Neither of these situations invited him into the conversation. The highchair, however, brings him right to our level.
Instantly, our family dinner became my favorite part of the day. I'm not one for regrets, but I can't believe it took us so long to start doing this. The Husband and I were both lucky enough to come from "family dinner" homes. Occasionally sporting events or after-school activities interrupted or delayed the start of these meals, but they were regular events in our childhoods. Even as a sullen teenager, I came to rely on these dinners. I knew that if I wanted to talk about my day I could. Sometimes the table was quiet, but it was always a welcoming place.
That is exactly what we want to make happen for the Little One. Over the coming weeks, as we fall into a busy evening routine of baths, packing lunches and diaper bags and picking out clothes for the next day, family dinners will become our special time together. I can't think of a better way to end the day then to stop and smile at each other, say 'thank you' for what we have and to let the Little One know that he is our priority.
Let the babbling begin!