They have called 911 several times, each time exclaiming with increased urgency that the babies are coming and they don't know what to do. They seem scared. Come quickly! they yell, There isn't much time!
The youngest throws the toy phone to the floor in disgust when she gets the prerecorded message: Do you want to play? She doesn't want to play, she yells, she wants the amby-lens to come and save the baby kitties who are having trouble being born. She calls again and is put on hold, I can hear the muzak while she impatiently taps her foot. The oldest tells the mama stuffed-cat to push and take short little breaths. After much loving guidance and stern support the kittens are born, the mama lives, and the family room pet-shop/veterinary hospital is returned to order. All is well in the universe once again.
Oh, how our afternoon playtime has evolved!
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Wanted: Fairy Godmother
Some days, living in an old house, I wish I wish I wish I had a magic wand. Or a great deal of money-that would work, too. I would love it if we could be the people who moved in and instantly got to work gutting the kitchen, putting up a pretty new privacy fence, installing the beautiful landscaping that I can so clearly picture in my mind, putting in windows that actually open and close, building a lovely pergola for a shade room behind the garage, and completely starting over with each bathroom. Brendan and I know both know how this house should be, should look, should function. Getting from point A to point B on the roadmap to awesome house is not as easy as one would hope.
What we do have is love, determination, and a lot of sweat equity. We are our own free labor and we have learned over the years (this is our fourth house, after all) that we can learn to do anything. We also have an acute appreciation for the age and character of our home; we want to keep all of the quirky details that make it cool while updating the "improvements" that others made over the years, many of which simply do not do the house justice.
I have been working on the kitchen for a few weeks now. We replaced hardware on the cabinetry earlier in the spring and that alone made an incredible difference in the overall appeal of the room. Now I am painting the walls and trim, covering up the blue and gold that predominated the room and reminded me of a high school pep rally (go Spartans!). It has not been easy, nor fun, but the results are a soothing reminder of what will one day be the "heart" of our home. We're using Behr's Green Tea for the walls and Ultra Pure White for the trim, doors, and banquette.
While the room is going to feel a whole lot better just with paint, we're also saving for new appliances and lighting. Have we mentioned our stove? It's an old school JennAire with a grill on one side and two electric burners on the other, and no hope of buying more burners because it is so old. We plan our meals around how many pots it will take to cook each dish...I am serious. The oven door doesn't close so when we want to bake something we have to jam an old wrapping paper tube between it and the opposing cabinetry. Have we mentioned our fridge? It's a reasonable appliance, though oversized for the allotted space such that the trim was ripped off so it could be shoved into position. It is a double door monstrosity that emits the lovely aroma of cigarette smoke when the door is opened and sports the largest rust spot I have ever seen on an indoor appliance.
We make it work. We have dinner parties and laugh about the state of our kitchen; we live, eat, breathe, dance, and play in this room and it works, whether it looks pretty or not. And though I wish we had that magic wand, and often, I still know beyond a doubt that the true heart of our home lies not within cabinetry and walls, but within the family that lives together beneath this old slate roof.
What we do have is love, determination, and a lot of sweat equity. We are our own free labor and we have learned over the years (this is our fourth house, after all) that we can learn to do anything. We also have an acute appreciation for the age and character of our home; we want to keep all of the quirky details that make it cool while updating the "improvements" that others made over the years, many of which simply do not do the house justice.
I have been working on the kitchen for a few weeks now. We replaced hardware on the cabinetry earlier in the spring and that alone made an incredible difference in the overall appeal of the room. Now I am painting the walls and trim, covering up the blue and gold that predominated the room and reminded me of a high school pep rally (go Spartans!). It has not been easy, nor fun, but the results are a soothing reminder of what will one day be the "heart" of our home. We're using Behr's Green Tea for the walls and Ultra Pure White for the trim, doors, and banquette.
While the room is going to feel a whole lot better just with paint, we're also saving for new appliances and lighting. Have we mentioned our stove? It's an old school JennAire with a grill on one side and two electric burners on the other, and no hope of buying more burners because it is so old. We plan our meals around how many pots it will take to cook each dish...I am serious. The oven door doesn't close so when we want to bake something we have to jam an old wrapping paper tube between it and the opposing cabinetry. Have we mentioned our fridge? It's a reasonable appliance, though oversized for the allotted space such that the trim was ripped off so it could be shoved into position. It is a double door monstrosity that emits the lovely aroma of cigarette smoke when the door is opened and sports the largest rust spot I have ever seen on an indoor appliance.
We make it work. We have dinner parties and laugh about the state of our kitchen; we live, eat, breathe, dance, and play in this room and it works, whether it looks pretty or not. And though I wish we had that magic wand, and often, I still know beyond a doubt that the true heart of our home lies not within cabinetry and walls, but within the family that lives together beneath this old slate roof.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Seven Months
I think it takes a year.
One whole year in any new place is about the length of time it takes to feel settled, to feel as though you are a part of place, rather than a visitor just occupying a space. We have been here nearly seven months and I am starting , just now, to feel the twinges of belonging, of ownership, of a sense of "this is my home". It feels good, as if something really, really great is just around the corner and all of this hard work we have been setting forth to do will be so very worth it in the future.
I believe that you must witness the change of all four seasons in a place before it can feel like home. You have to know where the day lilies push through the soil in order to know where to expect them the next spring. You have to know the order in which the fruit trees will bloom and you have to know when the maple trees will drop their spring flowers so that you don't open the pool too soon. You have to dig your bare hands into the soil, pulling out years' worth of garbage left behind by previous owners, before you feel the sense of ownership that allows you to scold the schoolboy who shamelessly litters on your front lawn right in front of you. "This is my front yard, not your garbage can!" you will yell, feeling a sense of pride and indignance that has not been there before.
In five months' time I expect to be there, all the way there. Right now we are building the attachments and relationships with neighbors, our house, and our community, that will help make this place really and truly our home. Every day that we spend working around the house and the yard, walking to the library and school and work, and chatting with our own series of Wilsons* over the top of the fence, bring us closer to home.
*Please tell me you get this reference! From the t.v. show Home Improvement...
One whole year in any new place is about the length of time it takes to feel settled, to feel as though you are a part of place, rather than a visitor just occupying a space. We have been here nearly seven months and I am starting , just now, to feel the twinges of belonging, of ownership, of a sense of "this is my home". It feels good, as if something really, really great is just around the corner and all of this hard work we have been setting forth to do will be so very worth it in the future.
I believe that you must witness the change of all four seasons in a place before it can feel like home. You have to know where the day lilies push through the soil in order to know where to expect them the next spring. You have to know the order in which the fruit trees will bloom and you have to know when the maple trees will drop their spring flowers so that you don't open the pool too soon. You have to dig your bare hands into the soil, pulling out years' worth of garbage left behind by previous owners, before you feel the sense of ownership that allows you to scold the schoolboy who shamelessly litters on your front lawn right in front of you. "This is my front yard, not your garbage can!" you will yell, feeling a sense of pride and indignance that has not been there before.
In five months' time I expect to be there, all the way there. Right now we are building the attachments and relationships with neighbors, our house, and our community, that will help make this place really and truly our home. Every day that we spend working around the house and the yard, walking to the library and school and work, and chatting with our own series of Wilsons* over the top of the fence, bring us closer to home.
*Please tell me you get this reference! From the t.v. show Home Improvement...
Friday, March 19, 2010
Six months in and the bottom fell out.
We were playing outside a few days ago, the weather having turned so very nice that we just could not continue with indoor projects for another minute and had spent the day, instead, running around in the backyard sunshine. After stepping inside briefly to gather refreshments for the children, I tried to close the back door behind me on my way back out and found that it would not close. Like every person who finds a door stuck, I tried again and again to close it, looking all around the opening to see if there was something blocking its progress, but nothing could be seen from outside. When I poked my head in a perplexing sight met my eyes: the bottom had, quite literally, fallen out of the door.
The door I speak of is a metal, insulated exterior door, relatively new compared to the rest of the house. Such doors have wooden spacers at the top, bottom, and sides to hold the insulation in and give the door framework upon which to place the metal. It was the bottom piece of wood that we found on the floor. Why had it fallen out? Ah, funny you should ask! It fell out because the duct tape that was holding it up inside of the door finally gave out. We didn't even know the duct tape was there because the previous owners had painted it to match the door. So many things in this house are just this way: a cob job to hold things together just long enough. It is frustrating, but we knew when we bought the house that there would likely be many offenses of this nature. As Brendan so aptly put it, "I don't like it when the house chooses the projects for me".
Truthfully, we knew the back door was messed up or at least improperly installed, because there was a giant gust of air spewing from it each cold winter night. It was, most definitely, "on the list". This week it got moved up a few notches in priority. You cannot simply go buy a new door and install it the same day, or at least we cannot, so for the time being we have used our stash of packing tape to shore up the bottom which looks pretty terrible. And embarrassing. But we are learning that this old house ownership is a process, that things do not get done in one week, one month, or one year. We are learning to pace ourselves and that is a valuable lesson learned.
The door I speak of is a metal, insulated exterior door, relatively new compared to the rest of the house. Such doors have wooden spacers at the top, bottom, and sides to hold the insulation in and give the door framework upon which to place the metal. It was the bottom piece of wood that we found on the floor. Why had it fallen out? Ah, funny you should ask! It fell out because the duct tape that was holding it up inside of the door finally gave out. We didn't even know the duct tape was there because the previous owners had painted it to match the door. So many things in this house are just this way: a cob job to hold things together just long enough. It is frustrating, but we knew when we bought the house that there would likely be many offenses of this nature. As Brendan so aptly put it, "I don't like it when the house chooses the projects for me".
Truthfully, we knew the back door was messed up or at least improperly installed, because there was a giant gust of air spewing from it each cold winter night. It was, most definitely, "on the list". This week it got moved up a few notches in priority. You cannot simply go buy a new door and install it the same day, or at least we cannot, so for the time being we have used our stash of packing tape to shore up the bottom which looks pretty terrible. And embarrassing. But we are learning that this old house ownership is a process, that things do not get done in one week, one month, or one year. We are learning to pace ourselves and that is a valuable lesson learned.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Life Lessons, Coffee Version
I was about to post all about the horrific coffee date I had yesterday, in full detail with arrows and exclamation points to further express my point, but sometimes the delete button is my best friend. What purpose would it serve to write it all out? Would it help anyone if I spoke poorly of another mother's parenting choices? No. The more important things to remember are those I learned from yesterday's outing:
1. Trust your gut. If someone seems like a Big Sigh when I pass them in the hall three times a week, their drama like a cloud around their shoulders, they are probably not someone I am going to want to hang out with. Giving people the benefit of the doubt is a worthwhile application of my optimism in most circumstances, but that sinking feeling in my gut should also be listened to. Yesterday's ugly scene could have been avoided if only I had trusted my gut about this particular person.
2. Stick to anonymous places when having a first, and dubious, coffee date. It's not about saving face, it's about respecting the people and business you have come to know and love, and understanding that they don't need that sort of customer.
3. Memorize the phrase "I'll have to go home and check my calendar".
4. When things get ugly, I do have the right to leave or suggest that the other party leave.
5. We all have ugly parenting moments. We all have moments, perhaps even days, that we would like to rewrite. If only we could go back and hand oursleves the edited script for that moment in time, so that we could be more patient, more in the moment, less grumpy and lousy. If only we could go back and recognize that giving in to the child's polite request for a cannoli would not break any profound law of the universe, but perhaps it might buy us an hour's peace, an enjoyable cup of coffee, the respect of someone who has taken a chance on you. I think the other mom would take yesterday back if she could, at least I hope she would. I hope she would take back the yelling, the screaming, the bullying, the setting of her three year old on the stoop of a business located 15 feet from a busy street by herself, to wait until said mother had finished her cup of coffee. If I could take yesterday back, rewrite the script and hand it to myself, I would not have gone to coffee at all. Of if I had gone I would have spent less time trying to disarm the awkwardness of the situation and asked the mom if she needed help...with parenting, with her kids, with anything at all. Because looking back at yesterday I see a woman floundering, grasping, clinging with her fingernails to an edge of what she saw as control but what the rest of the world perceived to be chaos and mean-spiritedness.
6. Children can be unruly, rude, bratty, and out of control, but they are still kids and more often than not it is our reaction to their actions that sets the tone for our relationship in any given moment or even a lifetime. React wisely.
7. I have the best kids in the world and I am a good enough mom.
8. Above all else, be kind.
1. Trust your gut. If someone seems like a Big Sigh when I pass them in the hall three times a week, their drama like a cloud around their shoulders, they are probably not someone I am going to want to hang out with. Giving people the benefit of the doubt is a worthwhile application of my optimism in most circumstances, but that sinking feeling in my gut should also be listened to. Yesterday's ugly scene could have been avoided if only I had trusted my gut about this particular person.
2. Stick to anonymous places when having a first, and dubious, coffee date. It's not about saving face, it's about respecting the people and business you have come to know and love, and understanding that they don't need that sort of customer.
3. Memorize the phrase "I'll have to go home and check my calendar".
4. When things get ugly, I do have the right to leave or suggest that the other party leave.
5. We all have ugly parenting moments. We all have moments, perhaps even days, that we would like to rewrite. If only we could go back and hand oursleves the edited script for that moment in time, so that we could be more patient, more in the moment, less grumpy and lousy. If only we could go back and recognize that giving in to the child's polite request for a cannoli would not break any profound law of the universe, but perhaps it might buy us an hour's peace, an enjoyable cup of coffee, the respect of someone who has taken a chance on you. I think the other mom would take yesterday back if she could, at least I hope she would. I hope she would take back the yelling, the screaming, the bullying, the setting of her three year old on the stoop of a business located 15 feet from a busy street by herself, to wait until said mother had finished her cup of coffee. If I could take yesterday back, rewrite the script and hand it to myself, I would not have gone to coffee at all. Of if I had gone I would have spent less time trying to disarm the awkwardness of the situation and asked the mom if she needed help...with parenting, with her kids, with anything at all. Because looking back at yesterday I see a woman floundering, grasping, clinging with her fingernails to an edge of what she saw as control but what the rest of the world perceived to be chaos and mean-spiritedness.
6. Children can be unruly, rude, bratty, and out of control, but they are still kids and more often than not it is our reaction to their actions that sets the tone for our relationship in any given moment or even a lifetime. React wisely.
7. I have the best kids in the world and I am a good enough mom.
8. Above all else, be kind.
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