Tag: family

Minimize THIS: Part 5 – The Playroom, Revisited

If you have a house with a playroom or designated play area for your little ones, then you will understand why I was absolutely putting this one off as long as I could. It took the kids staying at Grandma’s & Pap’s, a motivated husband, and a little bit of wine to attempt to summit my own personal Everest.

Behold…. the Before:

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Gasp! #shame

I mean, who lives here?!?! Tarzan and Mowgli? Clearly not civilized children.

We went in without holding back. It was a highly tactical mission. I had a few boxes and a few large utility trash bags, and we just started throwing stuff out. It was easy at first:  little broken pieces or random cards from God-only-knows-which-game went right out the door. Once we got the first layer down, we started working on the various “zones” of the playroom:

  1. The Barbie Boneyard
  2. Youth Hostel for Babies
  3. Train Set Junction
  4. The Creation Station
  5. Hollywood
  6. The Parking Garage

The Barbie Boneyard and the Youth Hostel for Babies were pretty simple.  We just got rid of broken and headless dolls and organized the good stuff into its own tote. I do wish to say there is a special place in Hell for whoever thought that silverware for Barbie dolls was a necessary item. Barbie doesn’t even have separate fingers. Nice going, Mattel®.

My husband tackled Train Set Junction. No one really needs 5-6 train sets, right? We managed to narrow it down to two sets only. Hollywood = costumes, accessories and anything a kid needs to have a blast getting all dolled (or ninja’d) up to play and perform. We just removed anything torn or too small, and threw out some broken stuff. Some things that we had outgrown went to littler cousins.

The Creation Station was majorly pared down. This is where we keep all the “arts and crafts” crap that the kids use to glue things to our wall that they shouldn’t; it’s why we can’t have nice things. All things glitter-related were banished and are never to be seen again. That stuff is insidious. #dieglitterdie

The Parking Garage is where a large portion of my son’s little cars (aka Feet Killers) went, as well as any large vehicle that a child can push around, such as a fire truck or Belle’s tea cart, complete with Mrs. Potts, Chip, and “Be Our Guest” on loop. What the heck was Santa thinking on that one?!?!

We were able to empty out and remove one whole bookcase/toybox combo that was falling apart, most likely due to having to contain about a metric ton of toys and other plastic crap. As we moved it up the stairs together and tried to pivot it around the door frame, you guessed it! PIVOT!!!!

One of the more enjoyable aspects of this adventure is that I’ve seized the opportunity to use one of my favorite “Friends” references, PIVOT! It never gets old (to me, anyways. The Huz might have a differing opinion on that).

pivot

I’m also intrigued by why little girls are so “into” super-duper-tiny-little-miniature things. We have Hatchimals and LOL dolls and their various accouterments, but why on God’s green Earth does something such as this even have to exist…

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It’s a miniature perfume bottle, in case you’re wondering.

I definitely broke a sweat on this one, and I was worried for the next day when we revealed to the children their newly organized play area. I felt CERTAIN that they would take immediate visual inventory and know what was missing and completely fall apart and we would have to make an urgent appointment with an interventionist. Not the case.

In fact, they were astounded by how clean and pretty it looked, and played with things they really had not played with much recently. Could this be because they were now able to see the forest for the trees? Without all the clutter and junk in the way, were they able to find joy in things from the past?

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See? Still gadgets and gizmos a-plenty. Who-zits and whats-its galore. (Sorry if you have that song in your head now.)

As we organized, we were able to fill three utility sized trash bags to toss. We gathered three large boxes worth of items for donation or to give away. We gave everything a designated space throughout the process, and set the clear expectation with the kids that once you were done playing with a toy,  you put it back before you moved on to something else. Realistic? Probably not, but it made me feel like a good parent for a fleeting moment.

They played for HOURS in the playroom that day; longer than I can remember in recent past. And not once did they ask for anything that they felt was missing.

This process in the playroom is perpetual. As they continue to age and grow out of things, and gather new things throughout the year, we will have to keep on top of it. But knowing that we took a pretty huge chunk out of it was extremely cathartic. I slept like a baby that night.

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So, here are some tips for tackling that playroom:

  1. Go in with bags and boxes, and maybe a face mask. Gloves. Oxygen tank. (Your call.)
  2. Take some wine, too, while you’re at it.
  3. Wear shoes. Legos suck.
  4. Don’t let the kids help. They aren’t helpful.
  5. Get rid of the first layer: “trash” and broken/misfit toys. They have their own island, after all.
  6. Tackle it by “zones” so that you have distinct areas for certain kinds of toys. This will make it easier for the kiddos to clean up after themselves.
  7. Remember there are a lot of things you can do with items for donation.
  8. As long as you don’t burn their toys in effigy in front of them, you won’t damage your kids emotionally.

Minimize THIS: Part 4 – Playroom, Interrupted

If you’ve been following along, by this time you know that clutter makes me very anxious. In fact, the various shapes of plastic that are kids toys kind of make me want to scream, so when we were shopping for the house we currently live in, one of the selling factors was a finished lower level with what would make the PERFECT playroom. Thanks to this playroom, the mess would be confined to this one room and I wouldn’t have to look at piles of toys and junk and pieces and sticker books and dolls and trucks and train tracks in the other areas of my house.

Aaaaaaaand cue the LOL heard ‘round the world.

That is not what happens. Much like a colorful fungus, the toys and costumes and pretend kitchen items and craft stuff (#glitter; #cringe) have spread to all areas of the house. Creativity and play abounds!

And yet, much like the saying goes, they have really enjoyed just “playing with the box.”box toy We apparently purchased something that came in a massive box, and now the pretend shopping mart that it has been shaped into is my kids’ prized play thing. Looking at it makes my stomach turn, but I’m trying to see it through their eyes. They envisioned it and created it, and made it into their own and actually play with it. So who am I to judge? (Ugh. It’s just so displeasing to my eyes and hurts my soul.)

 

 

I think that playrooms fall subject to unrealistic expectations and what parents envision versus what actually facilitates healthy and stimulating play for children.

Furniture stores, such as Pottery Barn (oh how I looooooove me some PB!) and Ikea would have you believe that kids’ playrooms are always neat and organized with little pods of tidy learning and play. Those of us who are parenting from the trenches of this War on Excess, however, know that these images are clearly the calm before the storm and that clearly no child has come in contact with these “play rooms.” Like, ever.

 

I have not actually tackled the playroom. In fact, past attempts at minimizing it have only slightly delayed the total bursting of the seams, which is about where we are now. The other night, I was working on the garage (a whale I am eating one bite at a time) and Little Princess came out to “help,” only to find baggies of toys that I had sorted and earmarked for donation. She claimed to have been “looking for those forever” and immediately reclaimed them. They were scattered over her bedroom floor within minutes.

The girl . . . she emotionally attaches to things. I get it; I have a tendency to overthink my connection to “things” as well. I think that shows she is empathetic; she feels as though her things can feel, and opens her heart. The boy . . . he does not really care. He is still pretty concrete and out of sight = out of mind for him. But the fact remains that the playroom and other nooks and crannies in our house are filled with broken and fragmented items, things that have been long outgrown, and duplicates. These are what I am going to address first with the playroom and toy situation, as the kids are still young and I don’t want to scar them. (I can envision them telling a therapist that things were going well in life until their mom threw out all their stuff in a fit of minimalistic rage.)

I want this to be a positive experience for my kids.

I want them to understand the value of things and what we can do with things we don’t use or are too grown-up for. This has led to some deep-ish conversations with the kids (ages 6 & 3) about how fortunate we are and how others do not have as much as we do, and if they no longer play with a toy, how wonderful would it be for them to show love to another child by giving it to them to play with.

Easy, right?

I’m kidding. That was a hard sell and immediately aroused suspicion in the ranks. It’s like the scene in Toy Story when the all band together to make sure none of them get tossed. And in a way, the Toy Story saga shows a great evolution of the problem we are dealing with here:  How do we hold onto what we love? And once we have no use for it anymore (such as a toy we played with as a young child), what is the point of holding onto it? SPOILER ALERT COMING – IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN TOY STORY 3, AVERT YOUR EYES…  Just as Andy does, he realizes that he loves his toys and wants them to continue to be loved and therefore hands them down to his little neighbor.

I love that concept:  Sharing and passing on the love of special items. It’s hard to get rid of things sometimes because a memory is attached to it. But just because the item is no longer with you, that doesn’t mean the memory disappears.

I read a trick once where if someone had a hard time parting with something “special” but knew it just served no purpose any longer, she would snap a picture of it so she always had that visual reminder of the memory and could do away with the tangible item.

So back to the Kids’ Playroom…. I’m going to tackle it little by little. It will be more organizing and sorting than removing, I am sure, but I know I will focus on eliminating (as much as possible) these things:

  • Toys & items that are no longer age appropriate
  • Things that have been broken or are mismatched/missing pieces
  • Duplicate toys

Exceptions to this will be:

  • Removing of anything that causes the kids emotional angst*

*That exception might not seem very “minimalistic” or make me sound like a softy, but as my mom always says, one day they will be completely grown-up and moved out, and that will give you a really sad reason to get rid of all of it.  I will not miss stepping on a Lego, but I will miss the happy colors and sounds and joyous faces of play.

The playroom is a big project that must be tackled, but it is not a huge priority at this point. I just want it done before Christmas, giving Woody and Buzz time to strategize on what to do when the new toys arrive.

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There will be more to come on the status of the playroom.  I know so many people with kids who are overwhelmed by all the play “stuff,” and when kids are involved, it isn’t as easy as just bagging it up and tossing it. It’s a journey for them, too, and should be a gentle and positive one.

 

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Minimize THIS, Part 2: Red Dots of Shame

I am the “NO RED DOTS” kinda gal. I hate to see those pesky little things. When I look down at my phone and see a Red Dot of Shame, I instantly feel compelled to address it. I’m sure that says a lot about my personality, but for the purpose of minimizing, it was something that I knew I simply had to address as they represent clutter to me. A task undone or something that needs put behind me so I can relax.

So, I spent an hour or so cleaning up my phone. I deleted apps that I rarely or never use. I left unecessary group messages and Facebook groups. I even removed some people from my social media accounts (gasp!). It felt good to clear the virtual clutter. Probably the biggest source of the red dots that drives me nuts are the emails. I have three email accounts linked to my phone, and I truly do use all three of them. One gets maybe 2-3 emails a week (totally manageable). The other is for work, so those emails are necessary. The other account is my main “personal” account, and it is OUT OF CONTROL. Of course, it is the one I used to sign up for accounts to buy things or sign up for stuff or get on a mailing list. Basically, it is where marketing and promos come to die. It’s a black hole, and I’m constantly hitting delete, delete, delete.

I wonder how many of these emails are things I actually need? Which of them adds value to my day or life? Certainly not the multitudes of notifications about sales and discounts. The goal here is de-cluttering, right? Not buying more crap. Bottom line:  This inbox is a challenge.

Well, CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. I decided to go one week without deleting the red dots in this particular inbox to see how many I received versus how many actually contained valuable info.

Challenge-Accepted

I made it one day. I just hate those dots so bad!

So in this first day of what was supposed to be a week of ignoring the Red Dots of Shame on my email, I had over 100 emails come in. Of those 100+ emails, ONE of them was worth my time in opening (it was from The Skimm, in case you’re curious).

The rest were notifications of notifications from Twitter and Facebook (who needs an email when you have the red dots staring you in the face on the app itself), sales from Zulily, Dick’s, Nordstrom, J.Crew, Gymboree, Pottery Barn, Oriental Trading, eBates, eBay, Shutterfly, Old Navy, Draper James (Dear Lord, I’m as basic as they come, aren’t I?)… and a couple other stupid things I have signed up for along the way in the hunt for retail therapy. I also get some political emails and such from “causes” or organizations wanting donations or support of some kind. I thought long and hard about getting rid of  those because I don’t just want to cease being involved, but these emails are not what makes me “give” to things that are important to me or wanting to be involved. I get these emails because I did make a donation or gave support in some shape or form at some point in time, and if I want to give or support them more in the future, I know where to find them. Therefore, they’re gone from the inbox.

Well… NO MORE! I saved these emails for another reason:  At the bottom of alllllll these emails is the option to Unsubscribe, which is what I will spend some time doing until my inbox is back under my control. I did the same for ads and groups on social media, getting rid of what isn’t contributing positively or adding distraction.

It is also worth noting that, sure, I could maybe try to change my thinking on the red dots. Maybe the emails/group messages/app notifications can wait and I don’t need to be so uptight about them. But that’s not my goal here. I am prioritizing, organizing, and minimizing. If it isn’t adding value to my life, then it is going away. I’m not going to change who I am or how I feel (can’t teach an old dog new tricks, amiright?), instead I am going to change the circumstances and conquer The Great Red Dot Reduction of 2018 with joy. I also know that you can disable notifications within apps, but that doesn’t help the amount of crap flowing into the app and therefore jumping into your face when you open said app or inbox. This is a reduction act, not a disabling act.

In my research and self-reflection for this piece, I came across an article about young folks/millennials who are using flip phones instead of smart phones. It’s a little bit about cost and durability, but it is also about their realization that life exists outside of their device. From a more “minimalistic” standpoint, that completely makes sense! (Remember…. I bought something with my FACE! Which means that the phone is quite often pointed at my face.) Much of this journey toward less means getting more out of life, and I don’t know that we can do that with a phone scanning our face all day long.

To be clear, and to avoid any accusations of hypocrisy or being preachy, I am not going to give up my phone, nor do I think that anyone should give up their phone. Like I have said before, I don’t think that I will ever be a true Minimalist in every sense of the word. This is more about the journey to realize what brings value to our lives, hence the removal of the DRD’s (Damn Red Dots), unnecessary apps, and people on social media who I wouldn’t say “hi” to if they passed me on the street.

That was my litmus test, by the way. As I went through Facebook for example, I asked myself,

“if this person were to pass you on the street, would you say hi?”

If the answer to that question was no, off they went. It’s a friends list, after all. Wouldn’t you say hi to a friend you passed? And would you want people who you don’t really feel comfortable saying “hi” to seeing pictures of you, your family, and things going on in your life? I’m a very social person; I always say hi (thanks for that life skill, Mom), so this was a pretty good test as I am not a shy person. More reserved folks might not find this a good way to weed out unnecessary floating heads on your page, but it sure worked like a charm for me!

Minimalism. It’s not just about tamping down the “stuff” in our houses or literal junk surrounding us. It’s about slowing down a little bit and realizing what is necessary and valuable to us in our lives. I, like many, feel as though I look at my phone too much. Part of that was because of those damn red dots. What an epiphany it was to realize that I have major control over these little phone pimples that draw me in and away from the real world.

Minimize THIS, Part 1: Important Papers & The Kitchen

We have plans to remodel many parts of our home. Yes, I realize this may sound counter-intuitive to my journey in minimizing, but hear me out.  Our home is where we spend much of our time. We bought this specific house because of its layout that we felt made it a place where our family could really maximize our time spent together. We also love to entertain (a more mature and professional way of saying we like to party I suppose) friends and family. It adds value to our lives. So, there are certain specific changes to our home that I do want to make because this is our “Forever Home” and we don’t have any plans to leave it. Therefore, we want it to be ours and exactly what we want and purchased it knowing there were changes we would be making.

It is actually the thought of remodeling that made me want to start sorting, organizing, and purging. Let’s take the kitchen, for example. If we want to renovate it, that is going to involve removing all the junk from within. SCARY! Wouldn’t it be nice if, come time to remodel, we only had the necessities in there that would require temporary relocation and then subsequent replacement back into the new space? Aha! See… It’s not about buying more stuff; this is about making our kitchen and family living space more functional and organizing it in such a way that makes the remodel process more efficient. Prioritize, minimize, organize! Plus, we all know what happens when you box up junk you don’t need or use:  It ends up staying in said box in the garage/attic/storage unit until Kingdom Come. I want to avoid that.

I digress.

Back to the “Important Papers.” Being an adult requires some semblance of having your s*** together, so a while back, we had purchased a fire-proof safe for our important documents such as birth and marriage certificates, deeds, passports when not in use, etc. It has been sitting in our family room for weeks and weeks. I think since Christmas to be exact, but who’s counting? (I am.)

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I became overwhelmed as I sat in our family room (didn’t help that I surrounded by piles of laundry and watching that darn Joanna Gaines build a dream home) thinking about how in the heck I was even going to start getting this place into order. You know that saying, “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.”? The important papers were Bite #1. I went through the old file we used and sorted out old stuff that is now pointless, such as the papers on a car that I haven’t owned in five years, and filtered out the important documents, realizing that I am actually missing one of our social security cards! Yikes! I managed to get about eight “folders” of crap into two folders in the new box. It felt great, and I was instantly proud of what a responsible adult I am.

Then the kitchen knocked my ego down a peg or two.

I started with the infamous Junk Drawer. We all have one, right? Tell me you have one. I know you have one. It’s a drawer in your home (ours has always been in the kitchen) that you have to yank a few times before it actually opens because of all the eclectic items contained within that are blocking it from opening. Sometimes, you might actually be afraid to put your hand into it because nothing is off-limits in The Junk Drawer, and who knows what tetanus-inflicting sharp you might blindly encounter.  Full disclosure:  I found razor blades, lighters, crayons, glue, a Q-tip, $1.50 in change, five different kinds of tape, and allergy medicine in mine, just to name a few. In fact, go ahead and Google images of “junk drawer” and I guarantee you will see some images and think they sneaked into your house and took a picture of yours. All junk drawers were created equal, apparently.

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Then that one drawer turned into the two next to it, then the cabinets above, and then a mini-meltdown later, my very sweet, supportive, patient, and tolerant husband was in on “the fun.” Off to the Dollar Store he went to (eeeeeek! Not buy more stuff, right?!? Well, yeah… read on) get some organizational supplies such as drawer organizers, gallon Zip-Lock bags, and large totes (which will be emptied by the end of all this minimizing and eventually ditched as well. After all, less stuff = no more totes).

Next thing you know, I realize that I own over 30 wine glasses, and that we have way more drinking vessels than a family of four should have. Hell, we have more drinking vessels than the Von Trapp family would need. Out they go! Tote #1 is filled, along with three very full trash bags of pure, undeniable JUNK.

So tell me, what’s in your junk drawer?

Now, go empty it.

Minimize THIS: Stuff = Stress

I bought something with my face. Yes, you read that right. I wanted to purchase something on my iPhone X, and all I had to do was look at the screen and POOF! Purchase confirmed. I have also purchased things with my thumbprint or a quick little password (which my devices all so very conveniently save for my own ease and comfort – how thoughtful!). It’s that easy.

It’s too easy. And now there is stuff everywhere and I’m drowning in it.

I’m the opposite of a procrastinator, more of a ruminator really – anything hanging over my head MUST get done before even a modicum of relaxation can flutter in. I dwell on things more than I should. I have also never been one who can relax in a mess or surrounded by clutter, so the combination of all our “stuff” (that’s putting it nicely) and the need I feel to sort and purge is becoming overwhelming to me lately. It’s not so much a need for “spring cleaning” as it is to feel like have regained control over my home and the things in it. I crave organization, and we are nearing max capacity.  We love to have fun and enjoy life, and often time that fun means acquiring the appropriate “stuff” with which to have specific said fun.  But in this life, especially with kids, we have accumulated SO MUCH STUFF that I almost cannot even stand it. It’s making this perpetual worrier even more uptight, and one weekend it came to a head…

jerry mcguire

Enter “Minimalism.” I have been reading a little bit about this concept lately and researching it just out of curiosity (and maybe a tad of desperation). I recently heard a story about a person who has one plate, one fork, one cup, etc, for each person in her family and that is it in the way of dishes. When you use your plate/cup/fork/whatever, you immediately wash it and put it away. I don’t know that I will ever achieve that level of minimal possessions, but I am very interested in the idea of filling our lives with things other than knick-knacks, plastic goodies, things we don’t really need, and plain old junk. I’m skeptical that I will ever pare down our belongings to the point that I can actually declare myself a true Minimalist, but I am sure as heck going to learn about this concept and take away things from it that I feel will benefit my family and the way we want to live on our little piece of this third rock from the sun. I want to feel like I can truly organize what we need versus just trying to find an unoccupied space for something. I want to evolve, explore, and experiment with maybe not buying that thing I want from Amazon just because I can buy it and think I need at that very second, only to have it soon forgotten and left to contribute to the mass of stuff. (Instant gratification, anyone?) I want to get real about the shame I sometimes feel about the massive collection of toys (for both adult and kids) that sometimes seem to have taken over our home. I am going to have the uncomfortable conversations with myself and my family about what it really means to feel fulfilled, and where that fulfillment comes from, and how we can start peeling back the layers to truly reveal our love-filled home. It’ll be a journey, for sure, and not something that will happen quickly at all. As I have heard from some friends of mine, “Experiences; not things.”

I’m thinking of this as “exfoliating” our house (and life), one section at a time. And I cannot wait to see the gunk that comes off her face!

So, I invite you to join me on this exploratory adventure to unburden ourselves from much of the truly unnecessary and excessive as we try to enrich our lives with the more meaningful. If anything, for entertainment value because I assure you, it will probably get ugly at times. At the same time, I’m also looking forward to the side effects of this and the things we learn as a family. I mean, there are obvious financial benefits to procuring “less,” and I am envisioning the yard sale to end all yard sales. It’s about a quality of life and living a lifestyle that is truly our “style,” not the one that we think we are supposed to have. It will truly be an adventure. There’s got to be a happy medium on the spectrum between drawers too full to close and tiny house dwellers. Please do not picture us living in our yard in tents with only a backpack to survive; that is not what this is about. I’ve never been one to rough it, but it’s gone too far.

TBH

PS – You should prepare yourself for Troop Beverly Hills references if you come along on this journey with me.

I had a small, but poignant, epiphany recently from our family vacation to Canada:  I cannot remember ever feeling so relaxed and my heart so full as I did during this entire vacation (not an easy task when trapped in a car for several hours with two young kids), and yet we did not come home with ONE. SINGLE. SOUVENIR. The thought of purchasing anything besides food, tickets to attractions, and cold drinks never really crossed my mind. We came home with two Christmas ornaments that our friends so graciously gifted to us to always remind us of this amazing trip and experience, but aside from that, nada. No stuffed animals (that would soon be forgotten), no shirts (that would fall to the back of the drawer causing a clothing clog), no tangible mementos of any kind. When I realized this had happen, I panicked at first. “Shouldn’t we have bought something for our parents?! What about something cute for the kids so they remember this trip? Oh my gosh we literally brought back nothing except dirty laundry!”

Ummmmm . . . we also brought back about gazillion lifetime memories with our kids and great friends, Holly. Geesh. Get a grip.

This is going to be one heck of a journey.

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Honorary Aunt

When I was growing up, it was a “thing” for us to refer to certain special people in our lives as “Aunt” or “Uncle,” regardless of relation. I don’t know if this is a WV thing, a Smith-Family thing, or just our way of giving people titles of endearment, but I love it. I have several biological aunts and uncles, but I also have many, many other important people in my life who bear those titles.

One of these amazing “Aunts” in my life growing up – and still to this day – is my Aunt Carol. No, biologically not an aunt, but being my mom’s best friend and growing up with her kids and actually being taken care of by her own mother, my Grandma E (no, not my biological Grandma), she definitely earned the title.

Pause here for a moment to talk about my Grandma E. Holy moly the importance of that grammaEwoman in our lives and the love I have for her is still in my heart, though she is no longer with us. Grandma E was tasked with watching me, my little brother, and my Aunt Carol’s two kids while our parents worked as teachers during the day. Back in those days, in rural WV, there wasn’t a day care on every corner, and finding someone to watch kids often fell to family members. Grandma E did it with ease. (Side note, E = Eleanor; I love that name.) I could write a book about the adventures the four of us had with Grandma E, whom she called her “Four Mice.” The word ‘special’ cannot even begin to describe her, so I’ll stop there so I don’t cry.

Any time I get to see my Aunt Carol feels like, well, a big warm hug. She was a teacher like my mom, and an amazing one at that. They met as two young educators at a new elementary school, having both been recruited from out of town. My mom still remembers the day she met my Aunt Carol, and they have been best buds since, with neither time nor distance getting in their way.  She is a pioneer in her own way for attending college as a woman and then working while she raised kids…. Not too common then as it is now! She was raised by her parents and lived with her two siblings, who were much older than she is, and always knew she could count on her parents’ love.  Aunt Carol said she can sum up their parenting philosophy by a quote from John Wesley,

“Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can.”

Not a bad philosophy! I’m going to keep that handy…

College life was a memorable experience for my Aunt Carol as it exposed her for the first time in her life to very liberal and forward thinking views and ideas that were quite the opposite from her upbringing. She loved learning and reading, and even participated in a couple peaceful protests! (How cool were the 60’s?!?)  She chose teaching as her path, and eventually chose her specialty as Special Education. I actually remember from my elementary school days going into Aunt Carol’s special ed room. It was such a blessing for me to see kids who were different than I was and their learning environment; it was unique and special and filled with love, just like Aunt Carol!  She always kept a sign hanging in her room that said, “ALL CHILDREN CAN LEARN.” I remember when we were growing up, Grandma E would occasionally ask us kids what we wanted to be when we grew up. As with most kids, what we “wanted to be” certainly changed over the years, ranging from vet to banker to fortune teller to garbage man to doctor to teacher to lawyer (just to name a few), but regardless of what we said, Grandma E would tell us as long as we were happy, that’s all that mattered. (None of us turned out to be any of those listed, of course, but we eventually all found our way.) This philosophy was reinforced and passed down the generations, as Aunt Carol’s career advice to her kids growing up:

Be happy. Find an occupation that feeds your soul.

“Married… with Children”  Like my mom, she’s been married a looooooooong time (but how is that possible, Aunt Carol, when you are SO young?! Inside joke between me and Auntie C.) She has been married to my Uncle Carl for 40 years, and they have two awesome kids, a son and a daughter, close in age to my brother and me. My cousins are, like their parents, amazing adults with wonderful, loving spouses. Growing up, they enjoyed camping adventures (my family would tag along sometimes too!) and traveling.  Aunt Carol & Uncle Carl still love to travel, and now, Gumby goes with them! As you can see from the slideshow, Gumby gets around and is a pretty good time…

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Life Throws a Curve-ball  A few years back, my Uncle Carl was diagnosed with Behavior Variant Frontal Temporal Dementia (bvFTD), which is a type of dementia that causes major changes in social behavior and conduct, and poor impulse control. Basically, it turns a person into a version of his or herself that can anger quickly, act inappropriately in situations, and is apathetic to the feelings of those around them. Quite the test for any marriage, to have the person you have spent your life with change into someone you don’t recognize. aunt and uncleBecause of this diagnosis, my aunt and uncle packed up their 40+ years in the small town we grew up in and moved to Milwaukee, WI, to be closer to family and medical care. They went from a town of 800 and their large farmhouse in WV to a city of 600,000 and an urban condo! Her heart is still in WV where they will always have strong ties, but as my uncle’s symptoms worsened, the close proximity to my cousins and big-city medical care was a must. Making such a huge change at a point in life where people are usually strengthening roots is scary, but she followed Grandma E’s advice to “bloom where you are planted,” and she most certainly has! They even got rid of their car!! I cannot fathom it, but it piques my interest to think about just jumping on the bus at the corner and being dropped off wherever you need to go… no need for gas, parking, etc. I wish I could do that! #nocarpayment

Like me, Aunt Carol is an avid reader. We often exchange book ideas and talk about what we are reading. She has a friend with a book coming out soon called Is it Time to Freak Out Yet, and I can already tell from the title I will be adding it to my list! She loves to volunteer and work in her new community and has definitely “bloomed” there. She met a friend, Anita, whose husband suffers from the same bvFTD as my uncle, and knows this woman was placed in her life by God. On my aunt and uncle’s refrigerator is a bible verse.

1 Thessalonians 5:13:  In all things give thanks.

Gratitude   Days are hard, but life goes by fast. Along the way various obstacles and burdens and excitements and celebrations come your way, but the attitude with which you approach these things makes all the difference.  “Pick your battles,” Aunt Carol says. “Save your battles for the big things in life.”  Or maybe employ the “10-Second Rule” …

“Our family has employed the 10-Second Rule many times. When something dire/horrible happens, 10 seconds from now it will still be bad. 10 minutes from now, still bad. 10 hours, less so. Then 10 days… less. Days turn to 10 weeks, then 10 months, then 10 years…”

It’s all about attitude. When Aunt Carol met her friend Anita, she shared with Aunt Carol that, in her experience in dealing with a loved one with bvFTD, you just have to accept what is, let go of what was, have faith in what will be. Time will continue to march on, but how we choose to face obstacles and all the things that life can throw at us will impact us and the people around us. We have choices in these situations, but we have to keep moving forward. Choose a perspective and attitude that will help you gather the strength in any situation, just like my Aunt Carol. Life is SO good. Have faith.

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National Lampoon’s Trip to Backyard Pizza & Raw Bar

Setting: Early on a Friday evening. Planning to leave later that night for a weekend getaway. Must pick up kids and feed them. (*sigh* Fed them yesterday, but whatever.) Decide on Backyard Pizza & Raw Bar as dinner locale. Princess agrees that this is a winner. Head to pick up Little Man.

5:03pm:  Arrive at day care to get Little Man. He is curiously wearing the shirt I sent him in, but not the same pants. Hmmmmm.  Today’s “Day Care Potty Training Pants of Shame” are Mickey Mouse Clubhouse pajama pants that are too small for him and therefore look like capris and come nowhere near matching his shirt. #pottytrainingsucks

5:10pm:  After wrangling both kids into my Pimp Mom Van, I become wary of my decision to attempt a meal out alone with the two of them, realizing I have forgotten any kind of pee-barrier for Little Man (translation: no extra pull-ups). Should these pants become soiled, we are royally screwed. They are literally the Last Frontier tonight.  Question this dinner decision out loud; Princess will hear none of it. We are GOING to Backyard. I then ask myself how the heck this power shift between me and 6-year old occurred. Promise self to download book on parenting that will go unread.

5:18pm: Score a great parking spot, albeit across a busy street. Threaten kids within inches of life to hold my hands as we cross. (I’m talking clenched teeth threats in Batman mom voice.)

5:20pm:  Text Grandparents to see if they would like to join us at “backyard.” SURE! Comes the reply. Yay! Reinforcements.

5:23pm: Realize as we are walking to our table that my children look kind of like disasters. One has pool hair and the other, well, he’s his own man. I think people might be staring. Hipster host makes comment about Little Man’s cool wardrobe choice. Oh well. No turning back now.

5:30pm:  Have booth in back and message Grandparents our exact location. Response from Grammy? Ohhhhh, they thought we meant we were eating dinner in our actual backyard. My mistake was not capitalizing the “B” in backyard. Teachers are such sticklers.

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5:31pm:  Lied to my mother. It’s actually not funny. Crap. Realize I’m on my own. Promptly order (small) beer.

5:32pm:  Order chips and cheese for kids, but “not the spicy cheese.” Where did these divas come from? Cheese is cheese. Maybe I will read that parenting book after all. 🤔

5:33pm:  Look at our young, carefree waitress with a touch of envy as I try to connect to restaurant WiFi so kids can watch something on my phone. (Don’t judge. You know you do it too. And did you not see that text from my mom?! They’re NOT coming.)

5:37pm: Beer arrives, and not a minute too soon. Chips and cheese also arrive. Little Man immediately spills cheese down his shirt, but quickly remedies that by simply scraping it off with a chip and shoveling it into his mouth. “Waste not, want not” is his motto.

5:40pm: Little man has to pee. Oh joy. I leave Princess to man the table, again employing the Batman mom voice regarding strangers and leaving the table for any reason at all. I’m such a good mom. I don’t need that parenting book.

5:41pm:  In the restroom, solidly plop a little pale butt onto the toilet seat. Distracted by his oohing and aahing over the trees in the bathroom (they are pretty cool), I fail to notice that he is not, ahem, appropriately “aimed” and pee squirts all over the back of the aforementioned Day Care Potty Training Pants of Shame. Luckily, I think I catch it in time to avoid too much damage. Doesn’t matter anyways. He has no other options besides total bottom-half nakedness, which is frowned upon in public places, even hipster joints like Backyard.

5:46pm: Hands washed and back at table, I quickly realize that the pee damage is a little more extensive than I thought as a wet trail is left behind Little Man as he scoots across the booth. No worries, we have lots of napkins. After years of mothering (six = Expert Level), I now know to ask for extras of these absorbent miracles. I smoothly wipe it up and throw the napkin aside on the table. Totally zero need for parenting book.

5:47pm:  Princess lets me know that, in my absence, she summoned our lovely, young, carefree server over to the table. Why? Just to let her know we didn’t need anything. Note to self: I shall tip server well.

5:50pm: We have food, we have wifi, all is right in the world! Parenting book be damned.

5:55pm: Little Man spills more of something all over the place. Again, I shall tip well.

6:10pm:  We are wrapping up, and Little Man crawls over to me. I grab the napkin that I had tossed aside earlier and dabbed it in my water to wipe off his shirt a little better. He goes back over to his seat. I gulp down some water as my beautiful and angelic children sit quietly side by side as we wait for our bill, silently gloating and congratulating myself on a job well done. We are on the home stretch. Perhaps I shall write my own book on parenting; I’m that good. 👏🏼

6:11pm:  Like a bolt of lightning, it hits me that the same napkin I previously used to mop up pee with is the one that I just dabbed into my water to clean off my son’s shirt, and then I proceeded to gulp down that same water. So, I guess I ingested some pee. Great. #pottytrainingsucks

6:15pm:  Bill paid. Server well-gratuitized for her patience and the phantom pee on the bench, etc, etc.

6:18pm:  Batman mom voice as we cross the street again back to the van with bellies full, and I  make peace with the fact that I definitely drank some pee. Will definitely need that parenting book. Will skip right to chapter on potty training.

“You got this, Mom!”

Last weekend we made a family trip to the Columbus Zoo, on what will forever be known as one of the hottest zoo trips EVER. Adding to that fun, 3-year-old little man is potty training, so we made multiple pit stops in the various “continents.” (I know for sure he peed in North America, pooped in Africa, and did a little bit of both along the “Shores” region, among others.)

Potty training sucks. Taking young kids to the bathroom also sucks. Taking both of them at the same time in 90+ degree heat in a large stall in a public bathroom…. “Off the charts” on the Suck-O-Meter.

sucks

So there I was, sitting on the pot myself (moms pee too; who knew?!) and trying to wrangle both kids to just hold still for one friggin’ minute and do not touch the door latch while I did my business.

I ask for so little.

It’s almost like, in their brains, they heard me say “definitely unlock the door and let it swing wide open for me to bare my mom-butt to the public.” 

Not only am I sweating from the heat, I’m also sweating in fear of what is inevitably going to happen:  One kid (can’t remember which, but does it really matter? They were both being hellions) undid the latch as the other leaned back against the door, forcing the outward-swinging partition to open to the bathroom crowd.

#momondisplay

WITHOUT. MISSING. A. BEAT. Some other mom – henceforth known as Super Hero Ninja Mom – turned with one swooping motion from her hand-washing position at the sink and pushed the door shut so I could latch it. #legendary #teamwork

Cherry on top:  On her way out the door, Super Hero Ninja Mom yelled,

“You got this, Mom!”

I think she was wearing a cape. Yeah, I definitely saw a cape. (Might have been hallucinating from the combo of heat & panic though.)

My daughter heard Super Hero Ninja Mom’s supportive solidarity and said, “Who was what?” That, my dear girl, is a legend.

Super Hero Ninja Mom, if you’re out there (and if you were in the bathroom adjacent to the food court in the Congo region this past weekend and caught a glimpse of something you’d rather not have), thanks for being you. Next drink is on me.

ninja mom

Get the Funk Outta Here: Carolina BalloonFest

Even after all the trips and flights I’ve taken in my life, I still want the window seat, and I still look out the window in pure awe. At the risk of looking like a newbie flier (heaven forbid), I just cannot help taking the occasional picture. But it never fails that the picture doesn’t do it justice anyways. Maybe it’s the cold meds I’m on right now, but how can we img_8032not look at this beautiful, amazing, world and not gasp sometimes?  It can affirm or maybe even make you question everything you know and believe all at the same time. Regardless of beliefs on how this universe and all of us came to be, can we all agree what a beautiful world this truly is!?  (But Lord help the jerk who tries to take my window seat; I’m here for the scenery, not the opportunity to give you a lap dance should I need to use the lav. Namaste and Amen. 🙏🏼) This was a pic from this morning. Again, the pictures never do it justice but the sun had lit up the clouds in a stunning array of colors over our beautiful state of WV as we departed.

I know travel doesn’t entice everyone, and there are many influencing factors such as cost, anxiety, fear of unknown, in a funk, etc. But some of our own most memorable trips have been mini-adventures that haven’t required much money, setting foot on an airplane, or going anywhere remotely glamorous or getting crazy. And there are some folks who fear flying or are just afraid or paranoid to travel in general. I get it. Sometimes the news does not paint the most beautiful picture that would entice one to travel, but we have to do it anyways. We have to get out of that bubble. We just have to expose ourselves and our kids to all the awesomeness that is out there.

So I shall say it as nicely as possible: Get the funk outta here. See what this amazing world, or your state or region have to offer. Go off the beaten path and try new things. Even if it turns out to be a flop of an experience, at least you gave it a shot. Eat a weird food (i.e. Canadian Poutine), hike some lakeside paths, kayak a local lake as smooth as glass before the fog even lifts and embrace the total silence, snorkel somewhere with water that is clear for miles, or scoop your first born out of a dolphin tank in the Bahamas (ok that last one I don’t recommend, but you get my drift). Watch for local or regional events that spark your interest, and just go for it. As the cliche says, life is too short.

The very same happened to me recently. Facebook “suggested” (in the creepy way it knows everything) that I would be interested in an event coming up in North Carolina. Creeper Facebook was RIGHT! So we loaded up the family truckster and embarked on a quick little turnaround trip to the Carolina BalloonFest in Statesville, NC. It was everything we hoped for and more, not to mention budget-friendly and easy. (A few years back, some of my best buds and I took a hot air balloon ride in Napa, CA, and it was one of the coolest things I’ve done, and I wanted my family to experience that as well, but perhaps closer to the ground and without having to fly cross-country.) After a quick MapQuest to see how far away it was – about 4 hours from Huntington, WV, and a little hotel research, we decided this could be a fun and unique little weekend trip for all of us to experience.

Knowing that the balloons would not fly in any kind of inclement weather, we waited until a handful of days out to purchase our tickets while watching the forecast for that area. Adults were $20 each; kids under 12 free admission. We also sprung for VIP parking (another $20), and I would have paid double for it, maybe even triple. If you take only one nugget away from this post, let it be that VIP parking is the way to go. Otherwise, there after shuttles and lines and waits involved. The weather ending up looking pretty good in the days leading up to the event, so tickets were booked! They warn you ahead to take cash, and that was wise advice as only a couple vendors took cards, and ATM’s were hit or miss. Cell service is also splotchy (the event takes place in a massive field near the Statesville airport).

The festival was basically a fair/bazaar on steroids, but the balloons made it just magical. As I’ve said, pictures just don’t do it justice, so do yourself and favor and check it out personally next year! The balloons fly in the mornings and evenings, so we were sure to get there early to see the morning ascension. It’s a 3-day long festival, and we made it to Saturday/Sunday. We originally booked a Hampton Inn, but got “walked” (hotel-speak for “bumped”), but it worked out hugely in our favor. We were moved around the corner to a newer Hilton Garden Inn, and our whole stay was paid for. Breakfasts too. Woo hooooooo!

They had Kid Zone with several inflatables for kids, mostly free. Some things charged extra (i.e. Bungee jumping trampoline thing and balloon animals). There were tons of food selections (not free, but very yummy), and GREAT live music! We loved the bagpiping, didgerigdoo-playing group from Scotland called Albannach. We stayed to watch them twice! Adults: fear not…. there is a wine and beer garden. $20 got you unlimited sampling from some of my favorite NC area wineries and breweries.

And then there are actual hot-air balloon rides. Jeremy and the kids did the tethered ride. If I was gonna put all my eggs in one basket, literally, they were only going up about 40 feet. It cost $10 for adults and $5 friends for kids. And for shorter kiddos, like my son, they had a peep hole to look out of toward the bottom of the basket, so no need to lift over the edge of the balloon so he can see (whew!). The kids were enthralled, and now we are 4/4 as a family for having ridden in a hot-air balloon, and it was close and affordable and FUN! You can also do an actual balloon ride (untethered and floating around in the sky), but those were about $250 and you had to make separate arrangements with the pilots.

Major takeaways/advice:

  • Take cash
  • Take sunblock
  • VIP Parking = MUST!!!
  • Take chairs and a blanket (maybe even a wagon for kiddos) so you can get comfortable.
  • Check the weather before you commit! Without the balloons it would have still been fun, but the balloons were the main attraction and kinda the main reason we made the trip.
  • Get there EARLY! You do NOT want to miss the balloon races and games. Awesome!
  • And if you want to take a tethered balloon ride, get in line for it FIRST thing.

They do offer a VIP Experience, but it ran $300 for our family, and even after scoping it out this year, I’m not 100% sure that juice is worth the squeeze. Hmmmmm…. we’ll see. They had a tent and food and beverages, and they also provided “upgraded” port-a-potties. I need to know more about this; seems steep. And to me, a port-a-potty is a port-a-potty. Not too many ways to upgrade that experience in my book.

The Carolina BalloonFest is always the 3rd weekend in October, so mark your calendars and watch the weather! Maybe next year, we will see some familiar faces! It was certainly a highlight of the fall for our family, and overall just the perfect “festival” for a family. We definitely want to go back.  At the end of Saturday evening, they did what is called an “All-Burn” and a “Twinkle-Burn” with the balloons where they all light up together or twinkle, respectively, in the middle of the vast field. This spectacle alone was definitely worth sticking around through the evening hours. To see dozens of massive and colorful hot-air balloons lighting up right in front of you was an amazing sight to see, but again, the pictures just don’t do it justice, so I guess you’ll have to go check it out for yourself!