Did you know I used to be a crafting wizard? It’s a fairly well-known fact among those who know me that I’m very creative and know my way around a wide variety of supplies from any arts and crafts store, but most of the friends who I’ve met in the past decade have no idea how big my obsession was. (I did craft shows, for goodness’ sake!) I come by it honestly; a love of creating with our hands runs in the family. I vividly remember following my mom into Lee Wards Craft Store when I was very young. At every visit she picked up the supplies she needed for…
-
-
There Are Worse Things To Obsess Over.
I have an odd obsession: toilet paper. My preoccupation doesn’t have anything to do with a particular type of toilet paper or even having a firm stance on whether it should roll over or under. I’m obsessed with having enough in the house. Weird, I know. I have worried about it for as long as I can remember, and I was never able to figure out why until I came up with a theory a while back. More on that in a minute. I get extremely nervous when the stash in the house goes down to single digits: heart palpitations and all. What if someone has a bathroom crisis and…
-
Spring Cleaning
Back when the boys were younger, spring cleaning happened in all four seasons. Rather, it was attempted in all four seasons. As a young family we were constantly bringing stuff (and more stuff) into the house, whether we purchased it or it was given as gifts or hand-me-downs. The struggle for extra space was real, all the time. Coming from a long line of packrats and being a mostly-recovered one myself (long story) it shouldn’t have surprised me when my older son D was traumatized at the mere suggestion of getting rid of, well, anything. It was his opinion that we should keep everything, because we might need it someday.…
-
On Being Me, Him, and Us.
D has been living at home for the past few months, commuting to the city for his full-time job and taking on extra freelance projects at night. While he’s got the normal twenty-three-year-old desire to get back out on his own because living with his parents again is just annoying in general, it’s been really nice having him around. As I watch him juggle all the things, all the time, I alternate between smiling and cringing. On one hand, I love that he seems to have my sense of overdrive; on the other hand I feel terribly guilty for passing that gene down to him. This conversation actually happened last…
-
Three Bags Full
I used to have a really hard time getting rid of stuff. I remember spending weekends in the first couple of years we were married, crying about things Jim thought we should drop off at Goodwill. The reasons behind that could fill a whole other blog post so I won’t go into detail, but suffice it to say that over the years I have become much better at letting go of extra stuff and now I enjoy being surrounded mainly by the things I love. Still, I look around my house and know that I could get rid of more. Clutter is the enemy of my mind, and affects how…
-
Go Big Or Go Home Didn’t Start With Me
I would be hard-pressed to find just one favorite picture of my mom, because there are so many. There’s the one that used to hang in my Grandma’s house: mom wearing her ballet shoes and posing on pointe so beautifully. There are the black and white ones: her wearing knee-high white boots with a skirt/blouse vest outfit that is so 1960’s it hurts, and just hanging out with my dad next to one of their many VW Beetles. There’s the one that was staged by her wedding photographer: mom, the young bride, pulling twenty-dollar bills out of my dad’s jacket pocket. There’s the one of mom, my sister and I…
-
Stay Hydrated, You. (And You, Too.)
I am going to Six Flags this weekend (with D) for the first time in years and years. Yikes. I used to love Six Flags until it played a role in one of the scariest experiences I’ve ever had as a parent. Long story short, when the boys were seven and ten we had an exciting day planned at the park. We were having one of those summer weeks during which it’s even sweltering hot in the morning, and literally the minute we handed over our tickets and entered the park, D passed out from heat stroke. It was a scary couple of days (understatement) and truly affected all of…
-
Be Careful What You Wish For
I have a reputation for being organized (or at least making it look like I am!). I have a reputation for going above and beyond, and I have a reputation for being overly busy. I have a reputation for getting things done. Bear in mind I’m not typing those words with any bit of ego: if you know me, you get it. Every now and then someone will say to me (either verbally or via internet) something along the lines of “I wish I could be like you.” It happened again today, thanks to my dear, sweet friend from north of the border (The Illinois/Wisconsin border, that is). She typed…
-
I’ll Do It If She Will.
One of my favorite things to eat (besides steak) has always been movie popcorn with extra butter. I know it’s horrible nutritionally, but it tastes so good. I literally did a happy dance years ago when one of our local theaters installed the “butter-your-own-popcorn” stations because, you know, extra butter. Related: those stations can be dangerous for someone like me. I can out-eat anyone when it comes to movie popcorn with extra butter. Well, except for maybe one person: my mom. If my mom and I were each given a bucket of movie popcorn, buttered just the way we like it, I would be hard pressed to guess who could…
-
Bags.