So the sun came out and it's not a cloudy day after all. It's actually warm and glorious and spring came back again. I'm sure that's why the birds were singing so much – they knew winter was faking us out. Again.
It's actually been a rather disappointing winter, in that it's been entirely too warm even to light a fire on the long winter's nights. But the days are getting longer now and the weather is only getting warmer, so I'm giving up on winter and going ahead and getting in the spirit of springtime.
Of course, we could still have a blizzard in March. It wouldn't really be surprising, and definitely not unheard of. You just never know around here.
But as for my list of things-to-do. Well. We went shopping. And that is all we've done so far. The kitchen is a mess, and the kitchen table is absolutely covered with...stuff. I don't know where Stuff comes from, but it is always showing back up just when I think I'd conquered it. I have trouble believing the sheer amount of Stuff that ends up piled on the table.
All of you organized people out there...my hat is off to you. Except that I never wear hats. But really...I admire you. Immensely. When I get hit with Stuff, I can never seem to figure out what to do with it in just seconds, because there isn't a really satisfactory Place to put most of it. So I put it in piles that are as neat as possible. Because, really, if I file away coupons for free dishes at restaurants, I will never remember that I have them. Of course, when they get buried under new magazines, catalogs, and ads for Events that I want to Remember...well...they kind of get forgotten anyway. Until three weeks later when I get sick of the piles and go on a cleaning frenzy and discover – oh, yeah – I could have gotten two free dishes at the new Mexican restaurant. Too bad they expired yesterday.
That's life as a disorganized person who desperately wants to be organized, because I'm not good at being disorganized. It doesn't seem to inconvenience some people. It really flummoxes me. But my brain is surprisingly not wired when it comes to simple concepts like: where is the best place to put this flier about the new nature center that I want to remember to go visit soon, and what to do with journals that I'm wanting to remember to actually write in...because for me, if it's out of sight, it's out of mind.
Perhaps I should convert one entire wall into a giant bulletin board. That might do the trick. And it would be really, really ugly. But I still couldn't pin a journal to a pinboard. I would probably stick it in a basket, and of course we all know how that would turn out. I'd never see it again. At least, not until the basket overflowed with Things To Be Sorted and I had to clean it out again.
But, disorganization aside, we had a lovely time. In spite of the fact that, invariably, when I am in the middle of loading or unloading the two littles from their carseats, the cars parked on either side of me immediately begin to buzz with activity. Seriously. I came out of a store with my one little find – yes, I talked myself out of some over-priced Easter dresses for the girls and was feeling victorious – and began to load up my eldest. Immediately, the people belonging to the cars on either side of me showed up. The parking lot was not that busy. Just the two cars on either side of me. Yes. I think the odds are curious, too and was pretty sure I was flunking some kind of Stress Test. The Lord sends me a lot of those and I continually flunk them. When will I ever figure out to just calm down? Breathe, honey. It's okay. Really.
But there I was, panicking a bit inside as I realized that I was surrounded by people wanting to leave and who were probably not a bit happy to find me there holding up the works. The man on the left side just looked at me like, “You do realize that I am about to back this car out whether you are finished getting her in or not.” And I did, in fact, realize that, and was already clearing out of his way to go put my youngest in on the other side.
At which opportune moment the lady parked on that very side showed up. She was trying to be polite and waited quietly. This made me even more nervous so I just halfway buckled Baby and backed out of the way, telling her to go ahead.
“Oh, no,” she said very sweetly, “That is fine.”
It was nice and all, but I knew that I still had to finish buckling, tighten the straps (which never goes as quickly as it ought to) and unclip and reclip the pacifier holder. This is fine when no one is waiting on you, but it was stressing me out having to do it with someone standing there waiting for me to finish so they could get on with their Entire Day. Oh, and I never love having someone standing there staring at me while I'm bent over. It's just not the most dignified position to be caught in for extended periods of time.
I was very rattled by the whole thing when I was finally out of everyone's way. But then, of course, at our next store – wouldn't you know it? Right when I came out and started loading my baby up in her carseat, someone pulled up and decided that, of the 20 empty parking spaces surrounding us, they wanted That One. The one right next to me, where I stood trying to load my baby up.
So I frantically got out of the way again, this time to avoid having me or my babies run over by the person in question. I was angry. I probably showed it. But thankfully, since I'm shy, I didn't have enough nerve to say anything. In this case, this was a good thing. I usually mutter to myself when I'm upset, but I am learning that this is Not Okay. It's not okay whether anyone's listening or not, but it's especially Not Okay when you have children listening to you sharing your bad attitude with them. It's excellent accountability. Had I muttered, “That person is selfish and rude,” my 2-year-old would have shrieked, “That puhson SALFISH? WOOD??? Dat BAD lady!!!” And it would have been extremely awkward. I am learning a great deal about self control already, and that's a good thing. If only I could learn how to control my facial expressions a bit more. I'm pretty sure I looked like a thundercloud. I tried to hide my face so the offending woman would not see. It wouldn't have accomplished anything.
Anyway, those kinds of things stress me out, but it was otherwise a very nice shopping trip. I found a few springish things to wear. I am never the same size for more than a few weeks at a time, these days. I'll take it. It's for an excellent cause. And no, in case you're wondering, I'm not growing. I am still shrinking. ;)
I melted when I put on a very pretty cardigan with a very pretty skirt, and my 2-year-old looked at me in the mirror and froze, smiling. “Oooooooh,” she whispered. “Pretty Mommy.” I was so touched, even though the skirt actually looked absolutely dreadful on me. It was a beautiful skirt, and she was appreciating that. So I kept the cardigan and got rid of the skirt.
A few minutes later, I tried on a shirt that I was not quite sure about. Jokingly, I asked my big girl about it.
She crinkled up her nose and cocked her head to one side. “Ummmmm...” she had a very definite Now-How-Do-I-Put-This-Delicately look on her face. “Ummm...it's not very bad, Mommy.”
“What?” I squealed, trying not to laugh.
She looked sorrowfully at me, with eyes insisting that I-Cannot-Tell-A-Lie, and whispered sadly, “Umm...it not very bad, Mommy. I no like it.”
This from a two-year-old. I started howling with laughter and she looked extremely relieved that I was taking the bad news so well. I assured her that I didn't much like it either, and put it away. I love the honesty. I love that we're starting to have these little conversations. It is all so. Stinkin'. Sweet.
:)
What else I love:
Standing outside the shop looking at the $2 rack and watching my big girl out of the corner of my eye as she stomped up to a springish-clad dress form and shouted, “Whatcha doin' there, you boy?”
Me: Trying not to snort too loudly
She: “Come on, boy! Dat's a BAD thing ta do. You never not never not do dat AGAIN. Now. Dat's bettah. You ah such a clevah boy.”
She sighed deeply.
“Buzz Lightyear...” she still seemed to be addressing the dress form, her volume rising with each word. “You. Ah. A. TOY!!!!”
I'm lovin' it. Only a 2-year-old could pull quotes from Winnie-the-Pooh, Toy Story 2, and Veggie Tales, and weave it all into one surprisingly entertaining monologue.
So many gifts, my friends, so many gifts. If I'd stopped to count them while I was stressing about being parked around, perhaps I would have stressed less?
Beautiful afternoon. Blue skies, glorious warmth.
Dishes to wash. I'd better go.
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