Several months ago—maybe even a year—Simon received a gift of a fire truck. It may have been valuable, as it is an older toy and was still in mint-in-the-box condition. Simon asks to play with it every time he finds it, and we’ve always said, “Not today.” But yesterday we watched Toy Story and Toy Story 2, and this morning when Simon brought the truck out from its sort-of hiding place, I couldn’t help but think of Buzz reminding Woody that (for a toy) “life’s only worth living if you’re being loved by a child.” So I caved. And because it’s just the kind of sap I am, I actually got a little teary while I was looking for a screwdriver to unfasten the truck from its box so it could be set free to be loved by Simon.

I hadn’t really realized that the truck was probably a bit too intricate for a two-year-old, and in less than two minutes, Simon broke the truck.

And when I explained to Jason how I had been persuaded by Toy Story to open the box, he reminded me that Simon has plenty of toys to love and neglect as he will. Take poor Rody, for example, muzzled and abandoned:

In hindsight, maybe I let my emotions get the best of me. Perhaps I should have let the truck stay in mint condition and watch Simon from his box, never to be loved. How will we pay for Simon’s college education now?

I just can’t stop kissing those cheeks!

Every now and again I get on a kick, and this one promises to be a doozy: we’re decluttering, simplifying, and selling, giving away, or simply throwing out all our junkety junk junk junk. Hoo boy, do we have a lot of junk, and I am kind of obsessed with getting rid of it. I’ve been reading organization blogs and making lists and generally daydreaming about a junkless home. (And I’ve been working on it too.)

We started with the easy stuff—books. Earlier today we went to Bluestem and sold four big bags. We also “donated” an additional three bags of books they didn’t buy but agreed to take off of our hands. We made a little money, and now our house is seven bags of books less cluttered. Tonight we started on the basement. We made some progress but decided that we need to alternate with smaller projects—next up is the pantry.

Some thoughts on the process so far, in no particular order:

• Jason and I are both completely fed up with telling Simon not to get into this or that. To put a positive spin on it, I do love his curiosity and desire to explore, but I mean the child is into everyeveryeveryeveryeverything. All the time. All. the. time. This is probably the biggest motivator for both of us right now.
• We’ve been running across a fair number of things that need to be returned to their owners, and more often than not I am embarrassed by how long I’ve had these things. I’ve been thinking of them as “the book of shame,” “the plate of shame,” “the coat of shame,” etc. Yesterday I returned a book that I’ve had since college—that’s fifteen years, people.
• It’s been fun to discover or rediscover things that I’d actually like to use. And it’s been satisfying to chuck things that I’d forgotten about and haven’t missed.
• I think this process will be good for our marriage. It will not, however, be easy. Let’s just say we’re learning to communicate. We have different strengths in this process (and different shortcomings) and, well, we just do things differently. But we’re learning about what’s important to the other—stuffwise and in other ways too.
• I am finding myself to be somewhat less sentimental than I might have thought. My big epiphany today was that just because I have a memory about such and such a thing that doesn’t mean it has actual sentimental value to me.
• I actually love decluttering and organizing; it’s the maintenance that brings me down.

It’s finally starting to thaw out a bit, and I am beginning to believe it might actually be spring again someday. 

Okay, cleaning is most definitely not my strong suit, but I have a couple of tricks up my sleeve. I’m fairly certain that these will only work for those of you who are Ps on the Meyers-Briggs. Js, you might want to stop reading for fear your eyes will roll so far back in your head that you’ll never regain full use of them.

When it comes to work before play or vice versa, I have never been able to do either very well. I am not generally disciplined enough to get all my work done before I play, but I feel too guilty if I put work off completely to play first. So when I can, I alternate a little work with an equal amount of play.

For example, I set the kitchen timer for ten minutes and clean for that amount of time. When the timer beeps, I reset it for ten minutes and play with the kids until it beeps again. And repeat as needed until the house is picked up or the laundry is folded or whatever. Sometimes I can make the intervals longer, but I find that ten minutes is about as long as one or the other of my boys can go without needing some attention/intervention. And even on my most unmotivated days, I can usually make myself clean when I know I can take a break after just ten minutes. Of course, I’m not rigid about the timer (ahem, I’m a hopeless P after all): if I’m on a roll and the kiddos are quiet, I might clean a bit longer. Or if Simon pats a chair and asks me to color longer, why would I say no to that?

There are all kinds of ways to switch off work and rest: fold laundry while watching a tv show and put it away during commercials (when I was a kid, I would practice piano on commercials—no wonder I never got very good at it), straighten up the house for three songs then chill (or dance) for three, or finish one task (say, empty the dishwasher) then read one chapter of your current book. Sometimes I also alternate by counting: fold or hang up fifteen articles of clothing then read five blog posts from my reader, pick up or deal with fifteen things in one room and then move to the next (even if the first room isn’t done). Sometimes a change of scenery is all I need, so I will work in one room until I come across something that belongs in another room, then take that thing to the room where it belongs and work in that room until I come across something that belongs in another room, and so on.

Works for me.

This is Orange Dude (you know, from Dr. Suess’s The Foot Book). He was a gift to Simon for his birthday, and he has become a frequent companion. Most days Simon insists that Orange Dude sit in Daddy’s chair and eat lunch with us.

There are so many, many things that I know I should write down before I forget them, so here are a few more:

Almost always when anyone comes to visit, instead of a hug or even a simple hello, Simon wants to show you something. Just as you are reaching down to greet him, he will turn around and search for a toy or a book to show you. He will also do this if you greet him in his carseat (though his options are obviously limited to what few things might be in his reach) and even occasionally on the phone (like most kids, he doesn’t quite get that you can’t see through the phone). For awhile he wanted to show everyone “Baby!” but the novelty has worn off a bit, so he’s back to his airplanes and trucks.

Simon is getting better at talking on the phone, but I’m extremely thankful that my mom taught him to push the red (End) button, which is usually in the same place on any phone. This has cut down considerably on baby dialing.

His favorite phrase is, of course, “I Do!” which usually means either “I will help you/I will go with you” or “I will do it myself” (emphasis on “myself”). There is really no limit to his “helpfulness,” which sometimes really is helpful (fetching diapers), sometimes is neutral (going downstairs with me to “help” with laundry), and other times is not helpful at all (he can’t keep his hands off of the computer or cameras). Sometimes his helpfulness is just overkill (I can use the bathroom by myself—let’s just leave it at that).

As part of his insistence on “I Doooo!” he is starting to want to dress (and undress) himself. He can almost (but not quite, much to his frustration) get his coat on. The other day he was so adamant that I NOT help him with his hat that I had to lead him to the car “blindfolded” since he wouldn’t let me help him fold it back up above his eyes.
If Simon doesn’t know the answer to a question, he will think for a minute then say, “Ummm, Baby!” (Both “What does a giraffe say?” and “Did you toot?” have been answered this way, for example.)

He had a meltdown this morning because his bagel could not be put back together after he ripped it in half. The tantrum he threw would have been frustrating if it hadn’t been so typically two-year-old.

Watching the snow fall in beautiful big white clumps.
Missing my camera!
Hoping it might be warm enough tomorrow to let Simon play in the puddles. He discovered a few on our sidewalk on the way into the house today, and I would have loved to have been able to linger and let him explore and splash to his heart’s content. Alas, I had a hungry baby to attend to and lunch to get on the table and naps to put the boys down for and a messy house to pick up and . . . and . . . and . . . But tomorrow is a different story.
Looking forward to having my husband home for a three-day weekend, starting tomorrow (see how that works?).
Feeding Ian. Actually, it’s pretty much a given that whatever else I might be doing, I’m either getting ready to feed Ian or feeding him. The kid eats all the time.
Adjusting (quite well, generally) to life with two kiddos in the house. Some days are better than others, and so are some nights, but on the whole I just like it.
Drinking a Diet Dr. Pepper and craving Junior Mints.
Feeling proud of myself for exercising three days this week but planning to skip today. I just couldn’t drag myself out of bed in time this morning—if it were light longer, I’d love to go for a walk when Jason gets home, but I don’t think I can face the DVD player tonight.
Thinking about the whole idea of inspiration/motivation. Jason and I went on a date to (the Peacock and) Barnes and Noble last night (thank you, Mom and Dad), and sitting in an overstuffed chair with a stack of books to browse made me want to read (not just those books but read more in general) and write and sew and take pictures and organize my house. So today I’ve been thinking not only about doing those things but also about the more general feeling of wanting to do those things.
Watching Project Runway with friends tonight.
Planning to cook some freezer meals this weekend (and to post the recipes on Needs More Butter).
Praying differently these days about some bigger issues (no, you won’t be reading about them on the blog. Sorry) and being encouraged by how that is beginning to soften my heart.
Finishing (maybe tonight) The Two Towers and looking for a new fiction book to start (in addition to The Return of the King, of course).
Trying to find ways to be a bit (or a lot) more frugal this year. I hate to admit it, but it helps that I am not inclined to take two boys to Target just to pass the afternoon (Simon and I did that a lot).
Watching tv on streaming Netflix. We just finished season 3 of 30 Rock. It took a while for that show to grow on me, but boy did it.
Craving Junior Mints. I know I already said it. Seriously.
Listing new categories that I need for my blog (one being “Ian Clifford”). (This is for you, Jason, to see if you are reading this. Can you make that happen, please?)
Enjoying a few more minutes to myself before the end of naptime (but also greatly enjoying my big two-year-old and rather looking forward to hanging out with him more this afternoon).

Pasta is one of our “go-to” foods for Simon—he will almost always eat it. But when he was learning to feed himself, I couldn’t get him to eat long noodles (spaghetti, linguini, etc.)—they were just so messy and discouraging. Then we went to visit Jamie, and this little tip I picked up from her changed everything: after you’ve cooked the noodles, use a kitchen scissors (or any scissors, really) to cut them into small pieces. I prefer to cut the noodles before I add the sauce; it’s just a little less messy that way. (Of course, a knife works too, but the scissors are just genius.) Works for me.

And because it’s so cute, here’s a video of Simon eating spaghetti (and falling asleep).

And just for fun, a birthday retrospective.