Lessons Learned Lately

I am either delusional or optimistic.  Either way, I never finish my to-do list.  Maybe I will again someday when I don't have so many beloved "distractions" around who need such constant attention.  Then again, maybe I put more on my to-do list than anyone could actually accomplish, ever.  And really, I am not necessarily looking forward to all my "distractions" leaving.

Having someone else do your remodeling costs a lot of money.  We have received multiple bids for flooring, windows, garage doors, totally re-doing our master bathroom, replacing our all-galvanized water pipes and doing some electrical updates.  We are sitting back and letting the high costs absorb until we are willing to cough up the dough.  If the shock doesn't wear off, we may have to figure how to carve out time in our hectic lives to do-it-ourselves.  Noooooooo!

Costco shopping is a 4-hour chore, if you count putting it all away.  I love Costco, but it is very time (and money :) ) consuming.

I love hand-me-downs.  I have been getting the next size of clothes out for Lucy, and it has been fun to see lots of cute things that Sophie used to wear, as well as donations from cousins and friends.  It's also been fun to package up the things she's grown out of to give to some friends at church who are expecting baby girls.

Volunteering at school is fun.  I was an art docent (taught an hour-long art class) in Lukas' class this week and it was precious.  We did chalk drawings of leaves in the style of Georgia O'Keefe.  Some of his classmates made me drawings and notes to say thanks.  One of the kids (who had chalk all over his face and on his arms up to his elbow) came up and said: "This is the funnest thing I've done all week."  Awesome.

80's sitcoms sure were innocent.  We've been streaming "Alf" from Amazon (lots of free content with a Prime membership) and our kids think it's hilarious.  It is definitely in the "so-stupid-it's-funny" camp, but I was struck by how much edgier/raunchier lots of prime time T.V. comedy is now.  Times they are a changin'.  

Getting anything extra accomplished around my house takes a looooong time.  It seems like a two steps forward, three steps back sort of deal.

Trying not to eat sugar for a month is hard, but I feel a lot better when it is a very restricted part of my diet--doh!  One of my good friends threw down a "No-sugar November" gauntlet and I couldn't resist.  Yes, if she jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge, I would be right behind her :).  I am definitely a sugar-a-holic.  I need a 12-step program, but I am doing a pretty good job myself, one day at a time.

When your newly daytime potty-trained 4-year-old (hooray!) falls asleep on the couch sans pull-up, and a voice inside you tells you to put a pull-up on him "just in case", you should listen to that voice.  Just sayin'.

And last, before climbing on sculptures in parks and having a fun photo-op with your family, you should really read the signs nearby.  People walked by and I thought they were just smiling bemusedly at my cute family's antics, but I think they were thinking, "What a bunch of idiots!" to themselves.  I can hardly blame them.

I have a few fun posts planned for next week (I've been sewing up a storm!), so stay tuned!

Decorators and Marriage Therapists

"True love is not so much a matter of romance as it is a matter of anxious concern for the well-being of one's companion." 

— Gordon B. Hinckley (Stand a Little Taller: Counsel and Inspiration for Each Day of the Year)

I have done something for my marriage lately that I am actually proud of.  I don't know about you, but I find that marriage is sometimes equal parts connection/love/peace/fun and dismal realization of your own imperfections.  I don't like the second half of that equation.


Anyway, I have been amassing pillows for about a year at the Goodwill and Deseret Industries in order to make my master bed a thing of wonder and beauty.  As all good decorators would tell me, pillows are an inexpensive way to bring color and texture to your bed.  Finally, I had a glorious concoction of pillows that would have pleased most decorators, even the most spendthrift (the accent pillows in front cost a total of $8--less than $2 a piece at thrift stores).  My heart would leap with pride and satisfaction whenever I walked in and saw my beautiful, thrifty bed.

Isn't she lovely.  Ah, yes.

However, about a month ago, my husband said something that caught my attention.  He said: "I hate having all these pillows on the bed."  In all fairness, he had said this before, but I had not really paid him much attention. I had sort of listened the way you listen to a two-year-old's temper tantrum "Yes, I know you want an ice cream cone for breakfast, sweetie..."  Anyway, for some reason, that day was a day I actually listened to him and asked some probing questions.  Does he hate having to throw them on the floor at night?  Hate having to feel like he has to make the bed with them in the morning?  Hate having them in his way when he wants to take an after-work catnap (don't worry, his catnaps aren't as frequent as Will Ferrell's George Bush).  Hate the way they look?  It boiled down to the fact that they get in his way and that his heart does not give the same sort of leap when he sees them.  In fact, in sounded more like his heart would sink when he thought of dealing with the unwanted pillows every day.

Now, the selfish part of me thought, "Eee gads man, get some taste.  Of course the pillows stay."  But then I realized that he wasn't asking me to give up the pillows on my side of the bed.  He just didn't want to have to deal with something that didn't bring him joy or satisfaction.  Really, that seems pretty fair and reasonable.

So, this is what our bed looks like now:

You know, I really thought it would bother me every time I walked in my room to see my hideous Two-Face bed.  But surprise of surprises--it doesn't bother me a bit.  My heart leaps when I see my pretty pillows, and when I see my husband's plain, ascetic side, my heart leaps when I think of him :).  

I am sure that we are not going to win any decorator's awards, but not having to go to a marriage therapy because of $8 worth of pillows: priceless.