Paring Down - Week 4

Ok, so our study wasn't quite this bad. Well at least not this obviously bad. We're better at hiding disorganization in unorganized files, "To File" boxes, and paper bags marked "Recycle," "Shred," or "Sort." But it's just a disguise, because our paper clutter is bad, has always been bad. Because I hate this part of organization. Sorting paper requires hours of work to get visible results. I'd rather wash the dishes. But I did manage to get through some of our files this week, resulting in a couple bags of recycling. I decided that counting them individually would be kind of cheating, so I just counted the bags, resulting in this week's total of:

1 unworking fan
89 office supplies
6 magazines
12 books
2 bags of paper

So my total for the week is 110 things, making my total for the month of January 423 things. I hit my goal! (And I didn't even get to every room of the house.) I feel good about that. But what's unsatisfying is that it only made me realized more clearly how many unused and useless things we keep in our home. 423 things gone and probably no one would notice except for Ryan, and maybe visitors who have poked around in our cupboards ;-) These uneccesary things only clutter our lives and take time away from things that really matter. Though we'll never live like this (thanks for the interesting article Teal), I do want to continue to take small steps towards getting rid of things that aren't regularly used and minimizing the constant flow of "stuff" through our home.

If you're interested in more minimal living, check out these blogs I've found helpful:
Rowdy Kittens
Becoming Minimalist
Simpler Living (this post is especially funny)
Miss Minimalist

Home at Last

We crazily decided to combine refinishing our wood floors with some wall painting, staining and finishing new baseboards, and 2 family vacations (St. Helens with my family and K Falls with his family). I'm quite tired of living out of a suitcase (though it probably wouldn't be as bad if I had cute suitcases like those in the picture!). So after 18 days out of our house, we're finally back home. Not moved in, but home.

3 things I've learned from our temporary homelessness:

1. Though we've lived wonderful years as a wandering couple in temporary homes, it's much harder and less enjoyable with a baby. Our mound of luggage seriously triples when we have her: portable crib, stroller, baby pack, diapers, diaper pail, special gentle detergent for the diapers, butt paste & other baby toiletries, portable high chair, extra blankets, fan for her to sleep, monitors ... and the list goes on. It feels seriously ridiculous.

2. My kitchen is better organized than anyone else's kitchen. I'm saying this a bit tongue in cheek, but I have decided that every kitchen is organized around its cook. My mom's kitchen is organized around her cooking style, and mother-in-law's around hers. And neither of them cook like I do. There is no maple syrup or sucanat, much less a dehydrator and lids to sprout wheat berries and quinoa (oh yeah, there's no quinoa either). And there's certainly no room in our trunk for those things. I'm really not knocking my family because their homes reflect their lives, as they should. Sleeping in someone else's bed and using someone else's bathroom is hard enough, but I've realized that cooking in someone else's kitchen is the hardest for me.

3. We really need check-in time at night, really. We've gotten in the habit of sitting on the couch and chatting after she goes to bed. It's just not the same with family around. Enough said, yeah?

Hearts are not had as a gift

Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned
By those that are not entirely beautiful

W.B. Yeats in "A Prayer for My Daughter"

The Problem with Vacations

Ryan and I played hooky today. We went to central Oregon on Sunday (having Monday off because of MLK day), called in subs last night, and enjoyed our extra day looking at beautiful snow-capped mountains and drinking coffee at Sisters Coffee Company. I think everyone should play hooky, guilt-free, at least once every few months. But I guess we have the advantage of calling in a sub. Some people might not have that, and that would be a bummer for their boss.

But the problem with vacations is that sometimes it feels worse when you come back than it did when you left. And by you I mean I. When I go on vacation, sometimes it's so rejuvenating that I'm excited to get back to "normal" life because I'm convinced that this time I can do everything, and better. But sometimes, yes like this time, I feel great when I'm away and then I come back and think, really? this is the life I chose? what can I cross off my schedule this week?

After I finish grumbling (both inside and to my husband) I realize that I'm just reaping the life I've sown, as crazy and too often unhealthy as it is. I have illusions that it will change when this or that happens, but it won't, not unless I make it change. It's a human liability, I believe, that we too often think that life happens to us. It does (yes, I am a divine determinist) and it doesn't (I have almost limitless choice).

And I really don't want my life to be just like a vacation, because then where would the fun be in vacations? But maybe a little bit more relaxation? That would be healthier for us all.

So choices here I come. Harken, New Years' resolutions?

2 Weeks Down

2 weeks down and I haven't counted how many to go until the end of the school year, but the very fact that I'm thinking about it and it's only mid-January is not promising. The funny thing is (but perhaps funny isn't the right word) that I'm still enjoying teaching. It's a nice change from being at home all day, and middle schoolers are some of the funniest people I know. I can't wait to know Riley as a middle schooler (well, yes I can, but you understand).

So it's not that I'm not having a good time teaching, and it's not that I mind being away from Riley for several hours every morning (because I don't, most of the time). It's just that the human mind is only meant to juggle so many things and I think I'm pretty close to my limit. Over, on some days. I would like to be able to juggle being a great teacher to struggling readers so that they have a better shot at life, coming home to play with my baby girl and teach her how to grow up in this crazy world, planning and preparing nutritious & yummy meals for my family, exercising so that I feel healthier physically and just generally better about myself, keeping on plugging away at the children's writing program I'm in the middle of, finding time to read for pleasure, calling my siblings and close friends who live out of town to catch up more often ... my mind whirs just writing the list.

Since becoming a mom, I've realized, in a practical way that I hadn't before, that choosing to do something means choosing to not do something else. I honestly don't know what I did with all my free time before I was a mom, but I remember feeling that I had enough time to do the things I really wanted to do. I could do the have-tos and the want-tos. And now I can't. Now I have to choose to cook and choose not to read, and this one isn't actually so bad because I like cooking. What I don't like is choosing to prep for school and not to relax when Riley goes to bed, choosing to clean the bathroom and vacuum and not to write during her afternoon nap time, choosing to prep food for the week (I like cooking, not prepping) and not to go for an evening walk.

I know this is the same struggle most people in the world face. And I know I'm lucky to have the opportunity to make even some choices that feed my independence and creativity throughout the week. I have an amazing life, but the transitions are hard. Transitioning to parenting was hard, and now transitioning to being a working mom is hard too. But I think that avoiding that transition would have been just as hard. I'm giving up something either way, so I guess I've just got to figure out what I'm most willing to give up ... maybe that's a glass-is-half-empty way to look at it. Transitions force re-prioritizations. That to come.

Writing

"Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholy, the panic fear which is inherent in the human situation." Graham Greene

I wonder.

P.S.

Jan 11 P.S.

I also had no idea how much I would enjoy my daughter. I have never been a baby person. I knew that I would love her from the beginning, but I didn't think I'd grow to like her so much so early in her little life. I thought it might take a year or so before I would find myself really enjoying my time with her. I know you already-moms are sitting there with a knowing smirky smile on your face right now because you know how quickly they develop a personality that just captures you. I didn't know. I had no idea how soon she would start to reveal herself as a unique little girl. And that's fun. Amazingly fun.

Knowing Myself

I'm realizing, yet again, how bad a predictor I am of myself. In general, I feel like I'm fairly good at predicting how I will react to something or someone. I thought it would be the same with parenting. This is not turning out to be true.

First, I thought that I would never enjoy being a stay-at-home mom. Not me, no way. I am a professional, and I'm good at what I do, and I really like it. When I was pregnant, the idea of giving up my job brought me to tears on a number of occasions. I felt like I was being robbed of something, not being given a gift. (Part of this is probably due to the fact that we weren't trying to get pregnant, so it wasn't like I'd chosen to take a professional time-out.) But the 6 months between when Riley was born and a week ago were amazing. Hard, absolutely, but amazing nonetheless. After the rough September transition when Ryan went back to work and I was on my own all day for the first time, we got into a groove and I really enjoyed my days with her. I also ended up doing a lot of cooking and reading about nutrition, which was great. I don't know why I thought those days would be so bad.

Second, I thought that I would be a relaxed, easy going, roll with the punches kind of parent. My parents weren't this way, and I wish they would have been. I see the effects of over-parenting all the time, both in me and my students. I figured that understanding this would be enough to help me make different choices. And it is ... sometimes. But when you start with a little wee one who can't do anything for herself, you have to be really intentional each day about taking a tiny step back so that she can grow into her own person. The tendency I have to control her life (forged primarily I believe by the way I was parented and the cultural parenting norms of the people I grew up around) run deep and are, at times, hard to resist. Giving her the freedom to make mistakes that she'll regret is going to be ridiculously difficult.

There are more, many more ways in which I've mis-predicted my responses to becoming a parent. She is another step in my own education of myself. Hard. Beautiful.

Thanks Riley.