Is it just me?

Confession: I’m totally addicted to design blogs right now. LOVE THEM.

Problem is, they’ve got me wanting to completely organize and revamp my whole household. Organizing and cleaning out is great, except we’re still rather transitional right now so I don’t want to spend the time (read: money) it would take just so I would have to do it all over again in a year when we move a-g-a-i-n. I am all about do-it-yourself-ing, though, and repurposing old items, and I am already pumped to go shopping at local Goodwills and other thrift stores so I can have pieces with tons of character, custom fit to me and super cheap!

One blog I read said it perfectly: “I’m not so much a clean freak as I am an organization freak.” Clutter makes me clausterphobic. It makes me feel overwhelmed and then I can’t think straight. It doesn’t mean I don’t have crap around the place, it just means I keep my crap in neat piles or in its designated “home.”

I love the clean, bright, open designs on these blogs, rooms with lots of white or neutral colors as a base – but having 2 small children probably makes that a pipe dream at the moment. Oh, who am I kidding? I make that a pipe dream. Seriously, I don’t think I own a shirt that doesn’t have a stain on it. I’m just rough on my things. And as graceful as this ex-gymnast can be, I tend to barrel through and force a lot of things because I’m in too much of a hurry and can’t be bothered to do complete a task without breaking something.

Little known tidbit – I used to draw a lot growing up. I’m nowhere near as talented as other members of my family, but I can do more than stick figures. And I used to create and sew clothes for my Barbies. I still love to sew…..and paint and put things together, and I think I love these blogs so much because they have reawakened my creative side and got me dreaming again. *Sigh*

Life with Toddler

Michael: Hey, Camille, how are you doing?

Camille: I......EAT.......BOOGERS!!!

Oh, joy.

Old Age

I know I'm not really old, but I'm losing it already. I just finished watching North by Northwest for the first time. Again.

Yeah, people at work were talking about the movie, how good it was and how it was the favorite movie of so many people from all different generations. And I thought, you know, I've never seen it. It's one I keep meaning to see and I never have. So I had Michael put it on our Netflix so I could finally see it. Look at me getting it done.

And then I'm watching it, thinking it's so familiar. I couldn't ever tell you what came next, but I recognized several scenes. I couldn't have told you how it ended, but I remembered it once I saw it. Now I even remember having a nightmare the night I saw the movie for (the real) first time involving the villain's house at the end. But nope, last week I'd never seen North by Northwest.

Good grief. Funny thing is, I've done this before. I've watched another movie for the first time a couple times. But true to the nature of this post, I can't even tell you which one it was.

Discoveries

After my pregnancy with Camille, I found out I love Moon Pies. LOVE MOON PIES. Where had they been all my life? In truck stops, I guess. That being said, I switched from craving sweet things to craving salty. After Talya, I found I love pears (and Multi-Grain Wheat Thins (known around our house as Crack) and in a pinch, regular Wheat Thins (Crack-light)). And now I'm back to craving sweet. The crazy things pregnancy does to a body.

Reflection

Every parent knows the difficulty that is termed “children.” And every parent is keenly aware of the days, weeks, and months of any number of difficulties. The lack of sleep. The not being able to accomplish anything. The less-than-stellar result of anything you do happen to accomplish, which makes you wonder why you bothered in the first place. The way life doesn’t seem to wait for you to catch up. The tripping over words. The falling asleep mid-conversation. The constant re-analyzing of what you’re doing and saying and whether it is beneficial or detrimental to the well-being and outcome of your children. The constant prayer over them and for them. The days you want to rewind and start over. The days you want to stick your head in a hole and disappear for a while just so you can breathe. The days you wish would end. The nights you wish would end.

The past few weeks in our household have been no exception. Camille is 2, so that needs no further explanation. Talya had a fussy night after a couple weeks of a weird nighttime routine, so Michael and I were awake in bed discussing her current eating and sleeping schedule at 3, 3:30, 4, and 4:45 a.m. This was after a 1 a.m. feeding. So I slept almost an hour past my alarm and was scrambling to get ready this morning. Camille was underfoot and into almost everything I was trying to do, so I was tripping over her and knocking things down as I went. I needed to shower, but didn’t have time. I had no idea what I was going to wear, so I was grabbing whatever I could think of that would be halfway decent for work and hopefully match.

As I flew around my room, exhausted and flustered, I said to Camille, but more talking to myself, “I need shoes.” Camille said, “Okay!,” ran to my closet and picked out a pair of shoes for me. Then she ran back to me and set them on the floor so I could step into them, saying, “Here you go, mommy. Here you go.”

I almost brushed her aside to dig for the pair of shoes I had in mind. I would never have picked out the shoes she did, but I paused in my tornado and tried them on. Turns out I love how they look with what I am wearing. They probably don’t even go well with the outfit, but I don’t care. The part of my heart that I was allowing to harden softened quite a bit. The simple helpfulness of my 2-year-old stopped me in my tracks. And after my morning frustrations and my a-bit-too-snippy tone of voice with Camille, all I could think was, “What would I do without my sweet little girls?”