I am so not ready for this

So far this week, my kid has learned, I mean really learned, how to pull up on almost anything, crawl backwards, stand for a few seconds, and get from crawling to sitting. All.this.week. Yesterday while I was fixing dinner, Robert watched her pull up on the side of her crib and then sit down again about fifty times. Today after lunch she scooted over to the coffee table and pulled up with no assistance. She also is able to stand for a few seconds on her own before sitting down. Also, yesterday, I watched her go from tummy to sitting. I had a feeling she had done it before while playing on her own in the living room, but yesterday was the first time I had seen it.

Whoa. All of this is happening WAY too fast for this momma. I have no idea how I want to babyproof. Do I do a gate? Cabinet locks? Door handle covers? Yes, I know, I've had almost ten months to think about this. If you count the pregnancy, it's more like 18 months. Gah!! You know that word that starts with a P and ends in rocrastination?

Don't let the curls fool you, she is plotting destruction in that little head ...

Evidence of a problem

I think I have a problem. Okay, I have LOTS of problems, but this post is specifically about my neurosis involving having things JUST RIGHT and the way I want them. Some might call this  obsessive compulsive disorder, but I am able to function semi-normally under most circumstances, so I don't think this really qualifies as OCD.

When I was a kid, I would count everything. The worst was steps. I would count my steps as I walked to and from school. Even if I was thinking about something else, my subconscious mind would be counting. I learned to kind of ignore the counting or distract myself by reading a book, but to this day I still find myself counting steps. And stairs ... I can tell you that there are 89 stairs leading down to the beach we like to go to from the highway where we usually park. I can tell you that there are 36 stairs from the first floor to the third floor of my doctor's office. If I were ever to be suddenly struck blind, I could probably get around pretty well just by counting steps.

When we got married, we registered for Fiestaware dishes. We got four sets of blue and four sets of white. I stack my dishes in the cabinet blue, white, blue, white. Apparently this is strange to my husband and my mother-in-law, because when they put the dishes away, they refuse to stack them blue, white, blue, white. I can't tell you how difficult it is for me to resist fixing them when I see they're stacked out of order. In fact, I have yet to resist fixing them, even if my mother-in-law is standing right there. Ugh, why am I so ungrateful?  When she first moved in with us, it drove me bananas and I would get physically angry with them for not getting it. I realize now that this is MY problem, not theirs, so I need to just get over myself. However, I still can't resist fixing the dishes when I see two whites next to each other ... *shudder*

I cook a lot. I have three cookbooks from which I get the majority of my recipes. I have a couple of others, but they are in Spanish, and a bit hard to follow, so I generally avoid those unless my husband asks for something specifically. My main beef with these recipes is their lack of any kind of organization. I can't stand it when the ingredients list is in random order. One cookbook I have doesn't even mention all the ingredients in the instructions. I mean, seriously, why don't we put crushed glass in this soup recipe to see if they're really paying attention? ...  I also get upset when, in a recipe that's just "throw everything in the pot and boil for 20 minutes" or "blend all ingredients until smooth," the wet ingredients are listed before the dry ingredients. I hate having to wash and dry my measuring cups and spoons just so I can get a teaspoon of onion powder and have to wash them again. It's so much simpler to measure the onion powder first, then pour the wet ingredients into the spoon. No washing or drying necessary!

My pots and pans are special to me. Especially dear is my griddle. It's non-stick, so it requires extra love and attention not to scratch it and ruin it. My griddle has its own drawer in the hallway cabinet, where it sits perfectly content in its original packaging while the cockroaches fan it and feed it grapes. (Kidding! Our cockroaches don't fan or feed, they just sing La Cucaracha while dancing across the countertops.) (Never mind, that was funnier in my head where it belongs ...) Anyway, no one is allowed to wash it because I don't want them to scratch it, and no one is allowed to put it away because the molded Styrofoam won't fit in the box if you don't put the pieces together just right. It's like a giant foam jigsaw puzzle. When it's right, it just slides in. When it's wrong, the box bulges and it tears at the corners, and it doesn't fit in the drawer. I could just store it without the box, but then it wouldn't stay as clean. I actually had three arguments with different people who insisted that it just didn't fit the same way.

And then, there's the clothes. I love folding clothes. If I were asked to choose my favorite chore, folding clothes would be it. I love seeing that stack of uniformly folded shirts. I love meticulously folding sweaters so that they sit just right on the shelf and wear wrinkle-free. I love (or used to love since I no longer work) hanging my work clothes according to function and color. I still have my work clothes organized just so in my closet even though I haven't touched most of them in almost a year.

I'm sure this obsession is just some immature response to remind everyone that I am responsible enough to run my own house. However, it makes everyone else crazy, and it ultimately makes more work for me. But I really just love having a place for everything and everything in its place.

Hey, at least I don't vacuum my vacuum ... very often ...

The hard stuff

This post is almost two years in the making. This past weekend I learned that a couple I knew at Union were killed in a car accident leaving behind a 2.5 year old daughter. I also learned that another friend from high school split up with his wife. I needed to write this, as a tribute, and also to clear my head. Tragedy strikes when we least expect it. This is for Dan and Aimee, Randy, Eric, Katherine, Debbie, Ryann, and Katie. Lord Jesus, Come Soon.

I had my Holden Caulfield moment, that rupture and shattering of naivete, almost two years ago. Up to that point I had looked on our generation as different than our parents, the invincible generation that would make better decisions, learn from our parents' mistakes, and be happier for it. We were so young, so healthy, we knew so much more about taking care of the environment and ourselves! We would all die in our eighties or nineties, still happily married and surrounded by children, grandchildren, great grandchildren!

And then disaster(s) struck. The first crack in the fragile shell of my ignorance came when my best friend from high school and his wife split up. I don't know the circumstances or exactly when it happened, but one day I saw a "people you may know" on my Facebook page. It was his wife, but her maiden name. I checked out my friend's page and his relationship status had changed to "divorced." I was crushed. This was not supposed to happen to him, to anyone close to me. We were all supposed to live "happily ever after." I walked around in a daze for a week or two.

That was, until another of my friends from high school sent me a text message one morning, asking what had happened to another of our friends. Immediately I signed on to Facebook and followed a trail of funeral announcements, condolences, and shared memories. His wife had passed away. Again, I was crushed. I shed angry tears for him and their 18-month-old son. How could God let this happen? What about happily ever after for their little family?

Then, suddenly, we received word that my cousin had lost her battle with cancer. We had known for some time that she had been receiving treatment, but most of us had thought she was in remission, so this was a total shock. She left behind two beautiful girls and her talented husband. My Grandma had now attended two funerals that should never have happened, one for her daughter, and now her daughter's daughter. No parent should have to bury their child, and no grandparent should have to bury their grandchild.

And then, one early Tuesday morning in May, the last week of school, I signed on to Facebook once more to see a funeral announcement. This time it was from my college friend. In utter confusion I searched her page ... It was her daughter, her adorable, active, smiling-all-the-time, 19-month-old daughter, who I had never met but had watched grow up through pictures and videos since my friend had gotten pregnant. I screamed, right there in my office at work. I wept bitter tears for half an hour, until my students came in and I had to pull myself together. I messaged her cousin to ask what had happened. He said he didn't know, that no one really knew yet. I cried for days, every time I thought about my sweet friend and her husband, now childless. My stomach sank when I read the story of how it happened. A genetic fluke that no one saw coming. Why, God?

Then, the very next day another friend from high school posted a cute picture of her daughter, still just a baby, with the caption, "She doesn't look like a leukemia patient, does she?" Another sucker punch to the gut.

Things were falling apart all around me, and I couldn't do a thing. I couldn't hug my friends, cry with them, help them with housework, cook for them. They were scattered from Washington to Kentucky, and I was stuck in stupid, stinky California. I sent notes of encouragement but words seemed so empty. I sent cards and money, but those don't bring people back.

In all of this, I just kept thinking "What if that had been us? What would I do, how could I go on?" There are no answers.

There's just no way for us to make everything okay again. The hurt heals, but it leaves an ugly, permanent scar, a constant reminder of what might have been.

I'm not going to go in to "Where is God in all this pain?" because many people have said it better than I ever could. I do believe that God brings good out of situations that the devil caused. And I do believe that Jesus is coming soon to raise the dead and reunite broken families. What other hope could there be?

Life has never quite been the same since that Spring. I've thought about my friend who lost her daughter every single day. I've been reminded of the fragility of life, of relationships, of health. I've feared losing my own child, losing my husband, losing my family. But seeing the courage and faith of my friends has helped me see that life goes on, that there is always a ray of hope, that God provides for us even when we think He's taken everything away from us.

Since that horrible spring, my best friend is in a great relationship, my widowed friend married an amazing girl, my cousin's husband is playing professionally for a high-profile orchestra, my friend and her husband had a little boy not too long ago, and the sweet little girl is still receiving treatments for her leukemia. Their paths took some awful twists and turns, and the wheels will always squeak a little from the strain, but the hope of what's ahead keeps them going. And, if tragedy should strike here, I know God will bring us through whatever it is. Because I know that at the end of the road, I will see Jesus, and He will wipe away all tears from our eyes, there will be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, no more pain, for the former things will all pass away. And then, sweetest of all promises, He will declare IT IS DONE. And then, what a reunion!

She crawls ... Backwards

This kid keeps surprising us. We were certain she would walk before she crawled. We were wrong. She's been working in earnest on this crawling thing for a few weeks. She starts in a sitting position, then rocks herself forward, but up until about Friday she would just let her knees collapse underneath her so she looked like a seal pushing its chest up. Then, Friday, she started going between hands and knees and sitting, then she started getting her knees underneath herself and staying on all fours for a few seconds. Then, today, she started pushing herself backwards. She travelled about 10 feet towards the kitchen, where she stopped right where the floor gets cold. Smart girl. Stay OUT of the kitchen as long as possible. It's like the Hotel California. Once you enter, you may never leave.

Week 5: To clean, or not to clean?

Ugh. This week is questionable. I'm still coughing like a smoker, Robert is starting to display symptoms, and his mom is still here, which, one would think would make it easier to clean, but for some reason I can't function normally with her here. I get nervous and feel weird indulging my desire to deep-clean when there's food to cook! Babies to play with! Dishes to wash! Why does this happen to me? Why can I not just be normal? I haven't figured it out yet, so maybe I need to dedicate a blog post to that later in the week so I can get it worked out.

This week's goals are numerous and daunting, yet again, but I'm sure I can get at least a few items checked off my mile-long list.

I still need to finish deep-cleaning the fridge, which will involve scrubbing one side, the top, and the inside, vacuuming the coils, and cleaning behind and underneath. I'd really like to spray paint it white one of these days, but that will have to wait until I'm finished with the rest of the house. I also need to scrub down the walls to the side and behind the fridge, which will involve moving the fridge out of the alcove of doom, organizing the recycling/bag station, and much step-ladder climbing.

Then, I need to deep-clean the toaster oven and scrub the unreachable, unusable sink that's underneath it. Also, there are several cabinets there and above the stove that need scrubbing, contact-papering and reorganizing. I'm dreading scrubbing the tops of the cabinets above the stove. I've only cleaned up there once since I moved in 5.5 years ago, and it seems to be a popular haunt for cockroaches. I can handle spiders, I can handle parading ants, but cockroaches are probably the most disgusting things I can think of. Except those huge Madagascar hissing cockroaches, man, those things are amazing. But I digress.

Next will be deep-cleaning the oven, which should be gross and difficult. I also need to move it out of the alcove of doom to clean underneath. Then I need to deep-clean the vent hood, including the vent cover and fan blades. Ugh, all that grease. Did I mention that my mother-in-law, bless her heart, loves to fry things? And wow, are they ever tasty, but the spattered grease is such a pain in the patookis to clean up!

And then, if I actually finish and still have energy or even the will to live, I need to scrub and organize the pantry (I call it the pantry, but it's really just a set of shelves about 18" wide that goes from floor to ceiling ... Shouldn't take more than a couple hours) and the large cabinets, finishing up with the door jamb and the door.

Oof, I can't imagine that I'm actually going to be able to finish all of that this week. If not, though, I should be able to finish the pantry and cabinets next week since the hallway shouldn't take too long.

My other goal for this week is my sugar fast which I totally blew off last week. I've already gone 48 hours without sugar, so only five days left! Haha.

My January goal of cooking everyday was apparently unrealistic. I think I had one week where I cooked every day. I'll see if I can knock out the last four days of January with a meal each day. I have the ingredients already, it will just be a question of time.

My other January goal of keeping my head on straight has gone pretty well, I'd say. I haven't lost my cool even once. Still four days left, though. Watchyoself!

As the end of January approaches, I need to set a new goal or two for February. I think I have one in mind already, but I need to figure out if it's realistic. Do any of you have ideas for new monthly goals?

My quarterly goals are Spring Cleaning and reading through the Bible. I finished the Pentateuch this morning, and that's usually where my previous attempts kind of got pushed to the back burner. So, I need to persevere. God will get me through this!

And so, the first month of 2013 is drawing to a close. I shouldn't neglect to mention that our family celebrated two birthdays this weekend: My older sister on Friday, and my younger sister on Saturday. They are precisely 21 years and 4 hours apart in age. Happy birthday, ladies! I love you both!

Healing rest

I am sick. Respiratory infection, not flu (thank God). Today will be a very welcome day of rest. K is feeling much better, and I really hope she doesn't catch this nastiness from me. Go, antibodies, go!

In the meantime, enjoy these pics of me trying to keep her new hat on and her trying to eat it.

Week 4 Sum-up: And yet ...

This short week went as predicted. I epically failed to finish my huge to-do list. I did get some stuff done, in spite of a sicky-sick baby and a getting-sick Mommy and only two days to tackle said list. (Tuesday was spent cleaning the house and doing laundry.)

I vacuumed out the window well yesterday, but I did not scrub it for two reasons: 1) It's supposed to rain for the next three days, and 2) The paint is chipping so badly I'm afraid to make it worse by scrubbing. It needs to be painted after a good scrape and sand, but that will have to wait for another day.

The alcove of doom is so challenging since everything is crammed back in there. It was so filthy, though, from years of frying Mexican food. I cleaned two walls and the fly door, and two sides of the outside of the refrigerator. I threw away most of the magnets and junk we had stuck to the front, and now we have a very few photos of family displayed. And the sunset calendar ... Couldn't be an Adventist without the sunset calendar.

I still have the other side of the fridge and the wall beside it to finish scrubbing, and I need to organize the recycling area beside it. Then I need to tackle the INSIDE of the fridge, vacuum the coils, and clean underneath and behind it. Since it's raining and my baby still isn't up to par, I may be able to finish this much today. Then there's a whole lot more to finish next week. I should have more time next week, though, so here's hoping. It's my last allotted week in the kitchen before I need to move on to the back half of the house.

My favorite project of the week was the spice cabinet. Last week I was bummed that I couldn't afford matchy-matchy spice containers. But then ... Pinterest. There are so many cheap ideas there. My spice cabinet may not be fancy, but uniformity covers a multitude of sins.

I saw this idea for little plastic containers to house spices. I already had a bunch of those little containers sitting in the back of a cabinet. I use them to freeze lemon juice, to store baby food, and I actually already had two in my spice cabinet, but they didn't look so great because they were labelled with masking tape. The containers are cheap, I can't remember how much because it's been a few years, but at Smart n Final, you can buy 50 of them, plus lids, for under $10.

Then, I needed to have pretty labels. I didn't have any that would fit, but I did have some Martha Stewart labels that look fine cut in half. Then it was just a matter of transferring spices and recycling all those unmatched jars and boxes. I then organized them according to function (dessert spices, Mexican spices, broths and mixes, and cooking spices). I still have a few more to put in containers because I ran out of lids and didn't want to walk to Smart n Final in the rain with a feverish baby, but man, it looks so much better!

Sugar fast was more like a sugar binge this week. It all started with a birthday cake on Sunday, an Indian syrup ball on Monday, a milk shake on Tuesday, carob-coated peanuts on Wednesday, and cookies and Argentinian dulce de leche rolls yesterday. Ugh. Sugar fast next week?

Cooking was not so great this week with a crammed schedule and a sick baby. I cooked only one recipe this week. And now I have a refrigerator full of food that I need to cook by Monday. Ha!

Aside from my yard man incident on Wednesday, I didn't even get close to head explosion this week. It's becoming increasingly rare. However, I still can't let my guard down as things will be changing a bit this weekend. More on that later, maybe.

Spring cleaning is falling ever more behind and next week had better be awesome or there's no way I'll be able to finish by the end of March.

Bible reading is still going well. The ultimate goal with this Bible reading is to have a better character, and I know spending time in God's Word every day is making a huge difference already.

And now, the weekend! Sabbath becomes more and more of a delight the harder I work during the week. I likely won't be going to church on Sabbath due to sick baby and mommy, but rest and family time will be a huge blessing.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Why couldn't they just listen?

This morning as I read through Deuteronomy, I couldn't escape the feeling I have when watching a movie for the second or third time. A movie like Mystic River, for example, where someone makes a huge, fatal, tragic mistake in judgement. You just want them to choose the right thing, to wait one more day to make their decision. But of course, the movie always ends the same. Sean Penn always ends up killing the wrong guy.

And, in Israel's case, they always end up not listening to God's commands. They always make that huge, fatal, tragic mistake in judgement. But somehow, when I read Deuteronomy, I still will those Israelites to just do what He says, wipe out all the Canaanites, destroy the plunder, take down the Asherah poles. But the ending is always the same. They disobey, and end up in exile.

Then I think, wow, I'm an Israelite. I have God's commands, clear as day in His Word and also the Holy Spirit speaking to my conscience, and yet I do my own thing. I make my own decisions, think I know better than He does what will make me truly happy. And I end up regretting my huge, fatal, tragic misjudgements.

But the good news in all this is that even when I think my own way is best, He can still make good out of it. My humble confessions and total surrender to Him allow Him to work with my blunders to make good things happen. And hopefully my memory is long enough to remember to just listen to Him next time. It makes things so much easier.

Yard Man blues

Our neighbors have a yard man. He cuts the grass and weeds at several different houses on our block. He used to cut our grass and weeds, too, until Robert's cousin, who was living in the other side of the duplex, fired him because she was afraid he would kick Pippin.

Anyway. For the longest time I thought this guy was homeless. He grows his beard all scraggly and his hair is also quite unkempt. His clothes are stained and full of holes. He is white, but it's hard to tell under the tan and the layer of motor oil he sports on his hands and face.

I've always been kind of creeped out by this yard man. I generally tried to avoid him until one day he came to cut the neighbor's weeds and grass right during K's nap time. Our neighbor's driveway is literally right underneath our windows, and K's window is right in front of the gate leading to their back yard. And his weed whacker, leaf blower, and lawn mower sound 15,753,974 times louder to me than they ever have because I HAVE A SLEEPING CHILD IN THAT ROOM RIGHT THERE. I, naturally, went all Momma Bear on him and told him to scram for another 52 minutes so my kid could finish her nap. He said he understood, that he had kids too, but he was on a time schedule. Yeah, right. Time schedule my foot. He shows up at the randomest of random times, sometimes every week, sometimes every six weeks, sometimes at 9 in the morning, sometimes at 5 in the evening.

Anyway. It didn't work. She woke up that day precisely seven minutes after I'd told him to beat it. 

Today, he showed up almost immediately after K had fallen asleep. He was here for 35 minutes, and every second of that 35 minutes (2100 seconds, in case you were wondering), I had a mini heart attack. I couldn't ask him to leave again. He just creeps me out too much. So instead I stood in the kitchen window giving him the evilest of evil eyes, stuffing my face with carob-coated peanuts (so much for my sugar fast), willing my kid to stay asleep with all that infernal racket. I don't generally wish death on people, but today I really wanted a big branch of the neighbor's orange tree to bean him.

But, of course, that would have woken up the baby.

And today, she stayed asleep for another 20 minutes after he left.

I like lavender, but ...

See that? Is a lavender dryer bag that I didn't see while folding towels. And those bags? Are paper. And my daughter? Loves to rip paper. And now? I'm picking lavender flowers out of our newly folded laundry. And I? Am so glad this happened BEFORE I vacuumed. And my kid? Is a genius.

?

A day with no tears

Car naps
Mile-long lashes
Hiking
Red dirt-playing
Rock throwing
Sea of glass
Warm beach
Whale spouting
Beach sunset
Sand in the ears
Sand EVERYWHERE
Jupiter kissing moon
Mommy driving, Daddy playing
Eat, play, eat, sleep, rinse, repeat
Taste of India
Spoon banging
Pancake crumbling
Sand in the tub
Sand EVERYWHERE
Jammies, kisses
Milk, cuddles
Sleep ... Daddy!
Awake, milk, cuddles
Sleep

Slinga da ink and pusha da pen

My senior year was the greatest year ever. I was in a great relationship, my classes were awesome (two core classes and five or six music classes? Yes.), my job was easy and fun, I carted my friends around in my Ford Aspire (The Easter Egg, aspiring to be a real car, etc, etc), I went to New Mexico, New York, and San Diego on music tours, I was the president of my choir, and thanks to Mononucleosis and a collapsed lung the previous summer, I was skinny and finally comfortable in my own skin. I had enough scholarships to last me a year and a half at the State college in my hometown, and two of my friends were planning to attend with me. The only bad part of that year was that my sister was serving as a missionary for a year half way around the world. It was my first Christmas without her, and she missed
all my performances and my graduation.

When she returned from overseas, we all went to a family reunion before she went back to Lincoln, Nebraska to start working and to take some summer classes at Union College. Every time we talked, she told me she was praying that I would go to Union. She also had the entire music department on my case. The band director treated my mom and me to brunch and the department chair called me twice. I told them thanks, but I already had plans to go to the State school, which was so much cheaper and closer to home. Besides, I had been to Union twice, and HATED it. The first time was in the blazing hot summer before my sister's freshman year, when the temperature and humidity matched each other at about 90. The second time was for her January birthday, when you could spit and an ice block would hit the ground. No mountains, miserable weather, and the Hot Topic in the mall considered Matchbox 20 hard rock. No thank you! I would rather spend my weekends skiing than cow tipping in some lame corn field.

But, I missed my Seester terribly, so I drove myself out to Lincoln one summer day to visit for a few days. I don't know what, but something about Union just felt different this time. It could have been the friendly atmosphere, it could have been the delicious vegetarian cafeteria food (... cue crickets chirping ...), but the thing that impressed me the most was that the dorm rooms had built-in desks, drawers, and bookshelves. Odd, I know, but the dorms at my college of choice had crappy WalMart desks and almost no storage. Practicality, people!

Anyway, I filled out an application. I told my sister that the only way I would go was if I didn't have to pay anything while I was there. I said a prayer, telling God the same thing. I was basically on my own for college expenses, and I could definitely not afford tuition plus room and board at a private college.

I went back home to continue preparations to go to the state school. I was fairly certain that my grades weren't good enough to earn enough scholarships to attend Union, so I was pretty confident that my plans wouldn't change. Then my friends who were both planning on attending with me each called me and told me they were going to other schools. I prayed some more. My sister worked with the Financial Officer at Union to find a way to get me there. She called me every day to tell me they had found yet another scholarship. I remained skeptical, but kept praying.

Then, a week or two before school was scheduled to start, I got a call. My sister said that my loan application had come through, and that with scholarships, loans, and on-campus work, I would not have to pay anything out-of-pocket until I graduated. God had worked it out, and I had better start packing. I turned in my resignation to my job and said goodbye to my family, friends and boyfriend. I still had to take my ACT since Union did not accept SAT scores, so without studying, I took the ACT when I got to Union, and I did a lot better than I expected.

So began four years of amazing classes, amazing friends, and amazing worship experiences. In fact, I'm still an Adventist because of Union College. College life was tough, and I missed my friends and family at home ALL THE TIME, but the great experiences I had there made the sacrifices worth it. I studied music, became a vegetarian, fell in love, spent endless hours talking with friends, learned how to play Rook, rehearsed and practiced four (or more) hours a day, swam many miles in the pool, explored Lincoln on my bike and rollerblades, attended hundreds of concerts, watched the Twin Towers fall, and changed my major six times. And never once did I go cow-tipping.

Week 4: So much to do, so little time!

Alright, I think I set myself up for epic failure this week by overscheduling a 3-day work week. As a rule, since Robert works 10-hour days and we don't get to see him that much during the week, Friday through Sunday is sacred family time. I try to get everything done during the work week so we can have uninterrupted and unencumbered fun on the weekends. So this week I will have only 3 days to get my stuff done instead of the usual 4. And this week was a hard week to begin with, so now it will be impossible to get everything done. However, keeping my 12-week goal in mind, maybe I can adjust the time frames a bit for the other rooms later. I'm still going to put everything on the list for this week regardless.

In the kitchen, I am going to clean the window well (from last week) and organize and contact-paper the spice cabinet. I have an idea for the spice cabinet that should be inexpensive if not free, and it will look fantastic. Details to come.

Our kitchen has this little alcove which, way back in 1934 when the house was built, was intended for a laundry room. It currently houses my stove and refrigerator, an inaccessible cabinet and sink, our toaster oven, a shelf for small appliances (I think that shelf was designed for a microwave ... Obviously not original to the house), and a couple of upper cabinets.There's also a door which I never use but Robert's mom likes to open it to let the flies in keep the kitchen cool when she cooks. So my plan is to wash all the walls, the door, and the ceiling, clean underneath the stove and fridge, clean the coils on the fridge, clean, organize, and re-contact-paper the cabinets, deep clean the stove and fridge, and deep clean the toaster oven. Oh, and clean and organize our plastic recycling area. And clean the trash can. And the dog's bowl. And I'm sure I'm forgetting something. And I'm positive this is NOT getting done in three days. I think I can make up some next week, but I shall do my best to finish the alcove of doom this week.

The other goal for the week will be to not eat any processed sugar. I try to do a sugar-fast for one week every month, so this will be it. Fruit, of course, doesn't count.

My monthly goals of cooking and keeping my head on straight will be challenging with a short week, but by God's grace, I can so handle this!

Quarterly goals are still on track, though spring cleaning is falling dangerously behind. The Bible readings are going quite well, though. Such amazing stories!

And so begins the blessing and the curse of the short week. Today we are celebrating a birthday in Loma Linda, and tomorrow will hopefully be a lovely beach day.

As my choir professor at Union used to say: Gird your loins, folks, this is gonna be tough!

God's Day

Yesterday was a lovely day. Robert and I planned to hike our brains out, but little miss K had other plans. Like playing with trees, rocks, grass, flowers, and DIRT. I told Robert on the way back to the car, "I think this is gonna be us for a while, Daddy. We may not get very far, but we are going to PLAY." Have a wonderful Sabbath, y'all.

Week 2 Sum-up

ED: I wrote this last Friday but just got around to taking after pictures today. Sorry 'bout that. Well, this week was an interesting one with all the faucet drama, but by 5:00 yesterday I had my cleaning goals finished for the week. I still don't know how to imbed pictures into the text, so you'll have to look at the pictures at the bottom of the post.
First, I vacuumed and washed the walls in the kitchen that don't have cabinets on them. I also scrubbed the baseboards, which, with a dog who chases his little snack bowl all over the kitchen when we give him table food, get pretty nasty. And, sad to say, I have not been good about cleaning baseboards ... But they are sparkling now.
Then I started on the far wall where the window and sink are. I cleaned out two drawers and two cabinets, though technically Robert cleaned out the one under the sink. I haven't put anything back in there yet since we're not quite done with the faucet drama. The other cabinet houses two 5-gallon buckets for dog food and organic beans, which we buy in bulk. I also keep my canning jars, plastic food storage containers and lids, and extra foil, baggies, parchment paper, etc. And there was a lot of junk under there too, which has been there for a LOOOOONG time. I don't know if you can see the date on the baking soda box, but it expired in 1996. I don't know what the normal shelf life for baking soda is, but I'm pretty sure that box has been there for at least 20 years. It's now in the trash, and there's a lot of plastic silverware, used but clean (sort of) plastic bags, and old dirty paper plates and cups, in the recycling bin. Now the cabinet has the two (cleaned) buckets, a pared-down collection of canning jars, my plastic containers, and the extra baggies, foil, etc.
I cleaned the cabinet doors on both sides, as well as the edges, and cleaned the cabinet frames and inside the cabinet as well. I also cleaned the two drawer faces and edges, and reorganized/purged the drawers. The first drawer was easy as I had organized it in my nesting frenzy last Spring, so all I had to do was clean the utensil holders which collect crumbs like nobody's business.
The other drawer ... Oh, gracious. I obviously haven't cleaned it in the five and a half years I've lived here, and I don't think it had been cleaned out for a good long time before that either. We use the drawer for plastic wrap, foil, and wax paper, but hidden back in the way back of the drawer were about nine million twist ties, some used and some new, cracked and broken rubber bands, packets of chile flakes from some restaurant, tons of used but clean (sort of) bags and foil, and years and years worth of crumbs and general grunge. It now has a packet of birthday candles, a roll of plastic, a roll of foil, and a roll of wax paper.
Ahhhh, it feels so good to purge. I'm looking forward to cleaning the rest of the drawers and cabinets. A place for everything and everything in its place. And sometimes that place is the garbage can.
My other goals: I didn't waste any food (Hallelujah, thank You, Lord), I prayed each day though not for my designated 15 minutes (why can't I keep focused for 15 minutes? Seriously, it's not that hard!), and I read a little extra in the Bible readings this week since February is a short month. This week was a BAD sleep week for Karlina, but I managed to keep my head from exploding. And for that, I thank God for my husband, who helped me put her back down twice this week even though he had to work. Why is it that K can scream and scream for almost an hour when I try to put her back down, but Robert can get her back to sleep in fifteen to twenty minutes? Daddies are magic, that's why.
Okay, you ready for a whole slew of before and afters? Sometimes this mobile Blogger app switches the order of my pictures. Blogging from a phone because you don't own a computer is lame. Sorry.

Week 3 Sum-up: Losing steam

This week was a good week, and I'm  tired like I worked a lot, but I don't have much to show for it. I lined all the cabinets and drawers on one wall of cabinets with contact paper and each drawer is organized and purged of unnecessary or unwanted items, including our hand-me-down silverware. The picture is of the "new" hand-me-down silverware that all matches. It's lovely, slim, elegant, and simple. Just my style. Robert was complaining that the forks were too narrow for him to eat fast enough. Sigh. I also threw a bunch of old tupperware into the recycle bin, along with the lids. There are two pictures of that cabinet below, but I'm sure they're not in order, so you'll have to figure out which one is before and which is after. The contact paper looks good, but I chose a green contact paper with white designs inspired by Heather over at Golden Reflections, which looked much nicer in her lovely white cabinets. The green is pretty close to the awful minty-green we have on our cabinets, but not close enough to avoid clashing. So, I think I want white cabinets, whenever we get around to painting.

I cleaned the wall and windowsill yesterday, but the window well is still hideously dirty. Perhaps I can clean that out today, but Robert wants to go adventuring this morning, so I'm not sure it will happen today. I still need to clean and re-contact-paper the spice cabinet as well, but I feel like I need to go out and buy matchy-matchy spice containers, and that's just not in the budget right now, nor do I have time. So, it'll be clean, but it'll still look like a disorganized mess. Sad face.

My other weekly goal of not blaming others was pretty successful, I think. Writing about it helped a lot, and hopefully having it written down will help me remember this place I'm in right now next time the Crazy creeps back in.

I successfully cooked every day this week so far. And it was good food. We have a few leftovers, but all of them together will make one meal for Robert and I today. So I'll still need to cook for today and tomorrow. My one new recipe was gluten-free vegan pancakes. We saved some for K since she loved them so much and she's been lunching on them all week.

My head stayed very firmly in place this week. Again, I think writing about my anger helped so much. I feel so so happy this week, I could just bubble over. I won't, don't worry.

Bible reading is still going well. I just started Numbers this morning, and I'll be finishing up the readings for February tomorrow. I've been reading during our early-morning nursing sessions, and this week proved difficult to stay awake, especially through Leviticus, but I persevered and made it through by God's grace.

Spring cleaning is running a bit behind now, but hopefully I can he caught up before Monday. Monday starts the gross and hard part of the kitchen, so I'm expecting that to take all week.

And just like that 3 weeks are up! I'm looking forward to Sabbath rest, as I always do, and looking for another surge of motivation.

Enjoy the weekend!