9flights

In the Black

via www.dereksanders.net

via oliveryaphe.com
(via a NYT article, I believe, but Oliver Yaphe did not attribute)

I spend an inordinate amount of time daydreaming about winning the lottery.  The scenario is the same, although the amounts vary.  Sometimes I think it is too greedy to imagine winning a really big powerball jackpot, like $130 million, or $216 million and so I think I will win the powerball after one of those and a mere $17 million would do; or maybe just a $1 million scratch off. 

I begin with the amount.  And then I deduct taxes and lump sum vs. annuity decisions.  And then I pay off my student loan, imagining what it would be like to click the button at Sallie Mae, transferring the full payoff sum.  And then, the remodeling begins.  Finding the architect, regrading the land, moving out into a temporary house (a hut on the beach in Tulum, Mexico is the usual location I imagine riding out the remodel).  And then, moving things back in.  But only those things I've cherry picked as absolutely wanting in my newly remodeled house.  I leave all the clutter behind.  In my closets are neat, monochrome rows of straight hanging pants, coats, shirts, and short lines of shoes.  In my kitchen cabinets are stacks of plates with plenty of room to breathe, impossibly straight rows of canned goods, perfectly balanced piles of silverware.  The long hardwood floors and high ceilings gleam in the sunlight that floods in through walls of windows.

In other words, in my head, daily, I rebuild my house.  Mostly it's sleek and boxy and modern.  But some days I decide it would be better to build something new, and I've set my imagination upon a barn house.  And this one always comes to mind.

No Cure

via www.flickr.com

"The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity." - Dorothy Parker

5 inches atop 7 inches and still falling.  A magical, somber day alone in my own head.  Why couldn't he have let the snow melt on its own last week?

Years of Training

Matthew began reading comic books to Sam at the tender age of 8 days old.

Today Sam discovered them for himself.

A big pile on you

via www.flickr.com

"And they took a short nap
In a big pile on you -
I SAY!
What a day
When the babies crawled away!"
The Day the Babies Crawled Away
by Peggy Rathman

Make Do and Mend

 

Whether it be cars,

or a favorite pair of socks, we try to make do and mend around here.  Not because of the economy, but because we've chosen to live on one salary while I stay home with the three wee ones.  I've been through tougher times, so this is nothing new to me.  Instead, I treat it like a game and try to be as resourceful as possible.

Most days I wish I could do much more.  Furniture out of sticks from the yard, pallet beds, a reclaimed wood dining table and shelves from old barnwood are just a few of the things I'd like to make.  But we don't have a garage to make them in, or a place to store the tools needed to build them.  One day I'll find a way around these restrictions as well.

We'll Do What We Can

Tonight it seems to me
That what some friends call energy
Is nothing more than a phenomenon of nature known as
"Incurable Whirling Disease."
-Linford Detweiler

At breakfast it is as simple as a jolt of coffee, warm oatmeal with honey filling our bellies, a clean expanse of cold white snow. The simplicity and ease of New Beginnings. A brand new year. A cure for Whirling.

A Day

I wake at 5 and fold the clothes at the kitchen table while everyone is still asleep.  I tiptoe past the bedroom doors, hoping no one sees my shadow.  There's a big project in the works in the back bedroom:  painting.  I step inside and unwrap a brush and get to work on the closet. 

At 8 Finley begins to cry and before I go to get her I wrap my brush, close the paint can, and go to check on the baby, who hasn't made a peep since 11 the night before.  I worry, so I put my hand on her chest to feel the rise and fall of her quiet breath.  After this I go to Finley and Sam pops up.  Everyone is smiling this morning, thank goodness.  It's not a tantrum morning.

The twins eat Cheerios in yogurt for breakfast and listen to their Elizabeth Mitchell cd and I go to wake the baby.  She greets me with a smile and a wiggle and I feed her at the table with the twins.  After breakfast they watch tv for a while so that I can shower and get everyone ready for a shopping trip.  We leave the house at 10 and I can't believe it. 

We go to a discount store and then to the fabric store, where we wait on line forever to have fabric cut.  The kids are all amazingly well behaved, and so I walk them down to the pet supermart.  We watch the birds, the hamsters, the chinchillas.  We check out the fish wall.  The intense blue and darting fish fascinate the baby.  We see three dogs get haircuts in the grooming center.  The groomers all stop to smile and coo at the kids.  The kids smile and coo at the dogs.

We eat chicken nuggets in the car and when I give the twins their nugget boxes, Finley says, "Cute!" and then, "Thank you, Mama!"  Everyone falls asleep on the way home.

After naps we all watch tv, even though I know it will make for a difficult bedtime.  And sure enough, after dinner and a bath, everyone is still riled up.  They wiggle and scream for an hour before they tire themselves out.  Even the baby is overactive and has to be nursed down after her bath.

It's after 10 and I'm exhausted.  So much for painting the rest of the closet.

I belong in London

You Belong in London

A little old fashioned, and a little modern. A little traditional, and a little bit punk rock. A unique soul like you needs a city that offers everything. No wonder you and London will get along so well.

What City Do You Belong In?

And if I were there, I'd definitely be hanging out with Emily, who does the coolest things.

A Day

I wake and bring my daughter into bed with me.  We watch the news for a while.  She snuggles up on my growing belly and runs her fingers through my blanket. 

My son wakes and cries and we go to get him out of bed, to change his diaper.  He takes the diaper like a treasure and carries it to the trash can, stepping on the foot to open it and cast the diaper in, like ashes into the sea.

We eat breakfast.  Milk and cinnamon/raisin bagels, and orange juice for me.  They have stopped eating bananas for now.  Tired of them, I guess.  It was so easy, I am sad and confused at what to feed them now.

After breakfast they run around the house picking things up and throwing them down, carrying toys from one room to the next, crying over the same empty macaroni box.  I don't know what to do with them so I decide to let them figure it out on their own until someone gets hurt. 

I fold the nightly wash of diapers and assemble them in a basket.  I do this 4 or 5 times because the kids like to pull them all out after they are folded and put the basket on their heads.

Later we go to the grocery store.  I buy chips and cookies and pre-made meatballs and vegetable protein sausages.  Junk food for me and convenience food for the kids, with a smattering of "healthy", just for show?  I don't know.  I have to forgive myself these little indiscretions.

We return home for naps, and because the day is dreary, tv in the late afternoon while I start a dinner and wash the floors, and sing songs with the kids, and teach them how to hop like kangaroos.

In between I've thought of a million art projects and several house things I would like to do, but there just isn't time.  By night I am too tired to do them and I fall into bed and sleep fitfully while the baby squirms in my belly.