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Browsing Tag: organizing

Even Though ‘Starting Small’ and ‘Brain Reprogramming’ Aren’t Exactly Synonymous

If I make just one resolution this new year, I think it’s going to be something like: Make Intentional Use of Time. And also maybe Write Shorter Blog Posts. But one thing at a time. That’s it. It’s all I need: intentional use of time. I’m not talking about adhering to a super-strict schedule. In six years of parenthood I’ve learned that if there’s anything I can count on, it’s going to be that I can’t count on anything, “schedule”-wise. Someone’s bound to wake up with a nightmare the night I’ve decided to set the alarm for five. Some’s probably going to get sick and barf all over herself at the breakfast table on what’s supposed to be the busiest day of the week. Someone else might, oh, I don’t know, partially dislocate his elbow on New Year’s Day and necessitate an eight p.m. trip to the local urgent care center (looking at you, Cian). It’s just…life right now. It is what it…

I Mean It This Time

So, we’re putting the house on the market again, this time for good. David’s had to resort to using either the girls’ room or ours as his office, depending on which has fewer people in it at any given moment, so it’s time. We like our real estate agents, I’m not knocked up, I’m getting more than four hours of sleep at night. No time but the present. No excuses. And, if we sell the darned house before the weather gets warmer, I won’t have a chance to weep the tears of longing into a pool that won’t be ours for much longer. So, to that end: There is a desk chair in my living room. It was in the family room, then the girls’ room, and now has migrated there while we wait for the newly-cleaned carpets to dry. Carpets are disgusting. When that much dirt is pulled out of your carpets, it is entirely possible to hear your grandmother tsp-tsking you from heaven with the hand she’s not using to hold a vodka martini (what kind of liquor…

Hitting the Fan

I totally realize that my entire last post was about chicken stock.  And I am completely aware that those of my friends who work or go to school full-time while raising a family wanted to roll their eyes, bop me over the head and/or have some other form of physical reaction because I spent an entire blog post talking about chicken stock, but what can I say? I’m writing this blog to remember all the stuff that happened when our girls were just wee ones, and some days, well, chicken stock is what happened. I’m quickly realizing that a big part of a happy life–for me, anyway–is getting rid of the “extra” stuff:  the silly worries, the swarm of toys and paperwork and spontaneous, silly purchases and the gross lump of salad leaves that I forgot about in the back of the fridge’s crisper drawer. And this paring down, this getting rid of the extras takes a lot of time.  And concentration.  I am not the best multi-tasker, as I’ve established before.  I totally know I go in fits and phases and waves…