Unhistoric Acts

clean and organized...overrated?

This is the scene of my kitchen yesterday about 2:00 pm. The counters were cleaned. The pizza dough was rising. Pioneer Woman's cookbook was anxiously awaiting the next step.

But this is not all.

My laundry room? Completely devoid of laundry. Because it had all been washed, folded, and put away.

My bed was made.

Every pillow in the living room was in place.

My clothes were all hung in my closet.

Parker's bed was freshly made with extra blankets for the coming cold spell.

After the kids came home the girls sat around the kitchen table reading, doing crafts, and snacking. Parker sat up to the island with a book and a bowl of popcorn. At 5:00 on the dot I began cooking the bacon and sauteeing the leeks for dinner. At 6:00 on the dot I pulled a potato-leek pizza AND a basil-tomato pizza out of the oven.

Jordan said it was the best meal she'd had in a long time.

While the girls were at church I washed the dishes. I scrubbed the pizza pans extra carefully, dried them, and put them away. When I turned out the lights on the kitchen everything was in its appropriate place.

This phenomenon (the clean/orderly part) is an unusual one that consistently descends on our home mid-January. There is usually a two week gap between when the kids go back to school and when A&M starts back up. So, I find myself with unusual amounts of time. And with this time, apparently, I clean and cook and play Betty Homemaker.

And each year at this time I ask myself, "Is this what my family really wants? Is this better?"

And here's what I've learned after hours of contemplating my family's existence.

Overall, this surreal homemaking existence is not necessarily in the best interest of my family.

It certainly isn't in MY best interest. And this is not to say that I don't enjoy playing Martha from time to time. Of course I like it. I like the clean and the cozy and sauteed leeks with goat cheese. But not everyday. Not continually. Because after about a week and a half I start to slowly lose it. Cleaning and cooking and cleaning and cooking (with no diversion) drives me slowly insane.

It's not in my kids' best interest either. They start taking for granted the amount of hard work and planning it takes to make this family work. When their clothes magically appear in their dressers and closets, when a steaming meal appears before them at the dinner table, when they need give no thought to anyone other than themselves...they become, well, selfish and entitled.

And, quite frankly, I think it's better for Sterling when he has to chip in...drive the kids to piano occasionally, or pick up a pizza, or remember to get Parker's tae kwon do stuff together.

And for any of you out there who can maintain a seamless domestic existence, my hat is off to you. (Would you come live with me?) I guess I just prefer my home life a little more fly-by-night. I want the clean and organized, but I also want to feel that we are all pulling together and working together. And certainly, were I a bit smarter I could formulate a plan that included jobs for everyone and instilled discipline and respect regardless of my personal pursuits. But there is something to be said for lived experience -- for a visual reminder that Momma is a person too -- that she has interests, and projects, and deadlines all her own. And that homemade pizzas don't come flying out of the oven on their own. Not that the Jetsons don't make that look appealing.

NOW...this is a new year

Seems like a lot of pictures of my family room lately...guess that's where I've been spending my time.

Today, I'm in the brown chair....READING.

And finally, I'm getting that new-year-let's-get-some-work-done kind of feeling. Maybe it's because the kids are gone. Maybe I'm finally recuperating from the holidays. Maybe my brain is warming up to the fact that I have prelims in the spring. I don't really know exactly.

What I do know is that it is COLD in Houston. The pilot light is out on the fireplace and although I've pressed the button, things aren't working as they should. I need Sterling to have a look at it. Here's another resolution: learn how to do things for myself.

But back to the COLD. This is the coldest winter we've endured in many a year. It seems that I can never really get warm. Or if I do get warm, then I need to go somewhere and I get chilled all over again. This chilling/reheating thing isn't supposed to happen in Houston. I should be wearing flip flops and hoodies right now. But no, the next three nights will be in the 20s. And really, my tile-floored, high-ceilinged house is not made for the 20s. And neither is my thin blood. Or my feet with abysmal circulation.

But never fear...Pioneer Woman's potato-leek pizza for dinner tonight. Bacon is involved. Also...a homemade pizza crust. Need to remember to make the crust at least two hours in advance. Could someone give me a reminder call?

the last hurrah...

Tomorrow the kids go back to school. With this in mind, I've been attempting to tweak their clocks over the last few days. Currently, their body clocks instruct them to go to bed around 11:00 pm and to wake up anywhere between 9:00 and 11:00 am. So not good for school. As a side note: my tweaking has failed miserably.

Last night I instructed all children (who were home) to hit the sack at 9:00. Parker, who spends all holidays and summer breaks sleeping in the gameroom (usually with Rebecca), walked sheepishly into my room with a "little problem." Sterling and I were cozily watching The Man From Snowy River on our BIG TV (now in our bedroom) and were not particularly inclined to give audience to a "little problem." But Parker's eyelashes get me every time, so I eventually gave in.

His problem was that Rebecca was sleeping in her own room, which left him alone in the gameroom or, GASP, in his own room. Not wishing to sleep in a room by his lonesome, he was appealing to us, his parents, for love and guidance. I figured this was the last of the holiday, certainly the end of the bizarre sleeping arrangements, so I let him sleep in our room, which meant leaving The Man From Snowy River. Yes, I'm a martyr.

When I was a kid there was nothing, and I mean NOTHING, I wanted more than a room of my own...my own space...some peace. And even now I feel that same pull. Last night two of our kids were out with friends and Sterling took the other two to Target in search of an illusive Wii game, and I found myself alone. Alone for the first time in what seemed like a very long time. And it was marvelous.

Obviously Parker doesn't feel this need. Or maybe this need is fulfilled already, what with his own room, his status as the only boy...the youngest child. And even though I had to remind myself more than once not to squash his scrawny body as I exited the bed...it was kind of nice to have my little buddy for the night. But tonight...I'm tucking him in nice and tight to his bunk bed. A story. A kiss. No negotiations.

forced organization

I love the emptiness that comes with taking down Christmas. Things feel clean again and new and not so sparkly. I've done my share of reading around the blogs the last few days and everyone seems so EXCITED and HAPPY and ready to organize and LIVE THEIR BEST LIFE NOW.

Hmmmm. Me? Not so much.

I'm just hanging in there, hoping to get the kids back to school in one piece, thinking about the mountains of work that await me back at good, ole A&M.

And still, as I've started to put things away today, I've been forced to clean out and straighten up and organize. There are new acquisitions from Christmas (where are they going to go?). And we've rearranged a few pieces of furniture. And I finally decided that storing gift boxes in my closet is a bad, bad idea. So I threw out all but four and have SO MUCH ROOM in my closet. Which meant I needed to get rid of a few things. And consolidate what was already there, and before you know it....forced organization.

The girls are upstairs cleaning out their drawers. So, undoubtedly, we'll make a mammoth trip to Goodwill with everything that we've outgrown (or decided no longer fits our personal aesthetic). And hopefully our house will be lighter. And I can once and for all avoid costly trips to Target that fill this house up in the first place.

There you go...there's a resolution for you. No more stuff in. It's enough with the stuff.

well, hello 2010

For some strange reason, I always feel a bit fearful of the new year. It's mostly a fear of the unknown, like maybe this will be the year it all falls apart. The silly thing about this way of thinking is that bad events are not respecters of calendars. Every day is an unknown. So, it stands to reason that every day could be the day IT all falls apart.

This is so not where I thought I was going with this.

Hesitant or not, we are launched directly and forcefully into 2010. There's no hanging back. Unless you count hairstyles. Or clothing. In which case I'm still holding a candle for my preppy days of the '80s. So, given no real choice in the matter, it seems wise to embrace the new year, to hope for the best, to plan for bigger and better accomplishments.

Last night my whole family (and extended family) made it to the midnight mark. I don't think I've seen the new year arrive since possibly 2000, so last night was quite the event. We had family over and when we found we were still going strong at 10, we knew we were good for the count. We played games, ate way too much food, lit off fireworks, and rounded out the night by banging pots and pans as we gallivanted about the cul-de-sac. At 12:05 the adults promptly carried off their young 'uns, and by 12:10 I was in my own warm bed -- a holiday well celebrated in my book.

As luck would have it, even Parker slept in this morning. He came stumbling downstairs about nine demanding food and a game of chess. As I type this he is pestering me for a game of chess. Our next big purchase as a family will surely be a chess robot.

Only Becca is bright eyed. She's up, showered, and ready to go. And yes, the hairbrush in close proximity to the bacon is sicking me out. I promptly told her to keep all hair care items far away from food stuffs.

And what about resolutions?

I'm loathe to make promises that I'm likely to break. My one big goal for 2010 is to pass my prelim exams scheduled for the spring. Taking this step will officially land me as ABD (all but dissertation). I think I may have some new checks printed. Sarah Brenner Jones, ABD. Ha!

blogland is empty, sorta

The week between Christmas and New Years has always seemed to me a bit of a lost week. Looking back, I really can't remember how I spend my time, possibly in some fudge and chaos-induced stupor, but it always feels busy...when I really think it should feel LAZY.

At the beginning of the week my mom and I loaded up the kids and ventured to the country estate (otherwise known as Lampasas, TX). On the way up we just happened to go several hours out of our way to the San Marcos outlet mall. I found a beautiful grey, silk coverlet at Restoration Hardware that should work wonderfully with my plans to finally decorate our master bedroom. More on that later. (Perhaps much later...since I'll definitely be decorating on a budget. Yuck.)

But now we're back and hosting a family New Year's Eve get together. I have appetizers and desserts to create, but I've been neglecting the ole' blog as of late and feel the pull to bring things back to order.

Order in the court!

My first order of business is to justify a rather large amount of whining that occurred here on Unhistoric Acts in the few weeks before Christmas. The whining was nonspecific because it was primarily about a batch of homemade gifts that were giving me trouble, and I couldn't tell you exactly what I was working on as the gift-recipients read the blog from time to time. But now...the gifts have been given...and I can lay it all out in the open.

For some reason unbeknownst to me, I committed (in my head) to making a quilt for each of my children for Christmas. I like to give them something handmade each year, something from their momma (here's last year's offering). I'm still uncertain as to whether they will eventually treasure these handmades, or toss them, but as my momma says, "It just doesn't feel like Christmas without a project." What she really means is, "It just doesn't feel like Christmas if we are not sleep-deprived and stressed to the max." And really, I whole-heartedly agree. As stressful as the quilt-making was, it kept the spirit of Christmas close to my heart.

Just to give you an idea of the complete insanity of this project...as of December 15th, I had one completed quilt. ONE. So, I just needed to make three quilts in 10 days. No biggy, right?

Well, boys and girls, I did it. My mom and sister helped me bind the last three quilts on December 23rd. I was so happy to be finished. So. So. Happy.

I intentionally kept the piecing simple. Because, you see, I am crazy...but I usually have a plan for that craziness. And this time, the plan entailed quick and simple piecing. I finished Jordan's quilt at the end of November. This was my first foray into free-motion quilting; it was difficult but fun and relatively quick. Also, it makes the quilt all puckery and wrinkly...and that's worth something.

I also added a pieced strip into the back of each quilt. Jordan is currently on an owl trip. And now, her brief fascination with the owl is memorialized for all time, or until she gets rid of this quilt. Which better be never.

I did just plain, old straight quilting on Madison's quilt. The thing about straight quilting is that it allows for softness. The more you quilt, the stiffer the quilt becomes. Personally, I think the puckery-ness makes up for the lack of softness, but that's just me. I'm a puckery, stiff person. Some people are more loosey-goosey.

I mostly picked the fabrics to coordinate with the kids' rooms (which also happen to be their favorite colors). This is Rebecca's. I pieced her binding, because I was feeling tricky, and her's was the last quilt off the sewing machine so I was rather punchy.

Parker's is probably my favorite. I pieced three giant log cabin squares and set them in a sea of grey. The back is a beautiful springy green with a strip of animal fabric. My boy, he loves animals. He's already told me that he prefers the green and animal side. Whatev. Also, I tried quilting his with lots of loops. I have 27 grey hairs from that experience.

So that's it. Four quilts.

As I was working on this I was musing on Michelle Duggar. Would she make 19 quilts? I'd better shoot her an e-mail...she'll need to get started right away.

the aftermath

It was a merry Christmas. Santa was good and thoughtful and everyone seemed absolutely delighted. I always forget about the Christmas Eve anxiety. Just before I go to bed I worry that someone will be disappointed. To my knowledge, that has never happened. But still, it troubles me.

We spent Christmas Eve at my parent's house, complete with Christmas Eve tamales. And for Christmas day, after the opening, and gingerbread waffles, and milling about amongst paper and boxes and teeny, tiny lego parts, we went to my brother's for Christmas dinner. It was all delightful and warm and cheery. This afternoon I requested a family clean up time. I can only handle living amidst the Christmas explosion for so long, and my maximum allotment of chaotic living had definitely been reached. Everyone pitched in, and Sterling even sifted through the enormous, lawn and leaf trash bag searching for some missing lego pieces. He found them.

Once things were somewhat back to normal I heard Parker ask Sterling if he could watch a movie. Sterling replied, "We're not going to do anything until Mom releases us (from cleaning duty)." There are a number of benefits to 19 years of marriage, and an understanding that cleaning duty is not something randomly relinquished is definitely one of them. I smiled to myself and told them to bring on Karate Kid (movies 1-4). Definitely a hit. Evidently, Karate Kid is timeless.

I'd love to report that it's all lazy times from here on out. But I have to teach at church tomorrow!! Ack!

merry Christmas eve...

This is it...what I feel to be the last of my Christmas obligations. Making cookies with Parker. After I struggled through one full cookie sheet, we scooped up the unused dough and set it to chill in the frigidaire. I can't abide sticky, overly-malleable dough.

And sure, I still have to make the sweet potatoes for tomorrow and wrap half a zillion gifts, but I feel the weight of the Christmas world lifting from me. This is due, in large part, to the fact that the sewing is finished. FINISHED! Do you hear me? It's finished.

My mom and sister helped out last night on the last bit of hand sewing. I learned that my mom can do handwork at approximately twice the rate I can. This skill came in very handy with the vast amount of work I brought along, and you might imagine the smile on my face when I laid my head on my pillow last night knowing I did not have to wake up to another day of hiding out in my room, hunched over my sewing machine. Although...the hiding was pretty fun at times, especially since I was chain-watching HGTV. But I did feel guilty every time Parker knocked on my door and said, "It's me. Parker," identifying himself to avoid confusion with all of the other eight year old boys knocking on my bedroom door.

Madison and I made our 6 AM run to the grocery store. We had to go two different places before locating canned pumpkin. Walmart was completely out. Of pumpkin. On Christmas Eve. Kroger had about four cans. I picked up two and set out for the cashier. One of the managers told me to hold on tight to my pumpkin, that it was like gold. According to him, there is a pumpkin shortage...and Houstonians counting on pumpkin pie tomorrow...will be vastly disappointed. I think he might have been exaggerating the extent of the pumpkin problem, but I'll do an informal poll and get back to you.

I'm going to do my best to be low key today. To relax and enjoy the season. Of course, My claim to relaxation is not so very different than asking a two year old to sit quietly through an hour of church...highly unlikely. Dang. I need to work on that.

Merry, merry Christmas.
Love, me.

taking a breather...

I'm just taking a breather from the mountain of sewing I've laid out for myself today. Yesterday was all about prepping a dinner for 20 for Jordan's birthday celebration. Today is sewing. Man, am I tired. All of this domesticity is starting to get me down.

But I'll just keep plunking along. Because if I've learned anything it's that slow and steady wins the race.

The shopping is done.

Parker still wants to make Christmas cookies for Santa, so that's on tomorrow's agenda.

And Madison and I are carrying on our 6 AM HEB run on Christmas Eve morning. Last year I had a few last minute items and decided to hit HEB at 6 to avoid the inevitable crush of suburbanites. Tomorrow we are going for year #2...hot chocolate included.

Also...I'd better think about wrapping the rest of the presents.

Love,
Exhausted in Houston

happy birthday jordan!

Yesterday my first born turned sixteen. SIXTEEN.

When Jordan was just a wee toddler my momma told me that before I turned around my baby would be grown. Or maybe she said that I'd blink and she'd be grown. She probably said both.

And she was right.

Sometimes, I just hate it when my mother is right.

This past year does seem to have marked a turning point of sorts. Jordan is less and less a child and more of a young adult. She got her driver's permit in September and was surprisingly nervous about the entire driving experience. Like really nervous. I should have had a blood pressure cuff on her the first few times she was behind the wheel. Or not. Because then I might have felt compelled to rush her to the hospital. Just in the last few weeks has she really started driving everywhere. She's now driving the suburban, which opens up a whole world of driving opportunities since we put plenty of miles on the sub. She can't officially get her license until March. We're currently scouting car options.

For perhaps the first time, her academic life gave her a run for her money this year. She started World History AP, a legendary class at the high school, and this class, along with Horizons English, left her with hours of homework and innumerable tests, projects, and papers. I'll just be honest and tell you that, much like her mother, a serious workload makes her rather grouchy. But she really stepped up to the plate. She put in the hours and reaped the rewards. I keep plugging medical school. She has what it takes...if she should choose to obey me. (And that will happen, right?)

Jordan has continued to devote herself to both the piano and the violin. She's always had a natural ability when it comes to music. She is the pianist for the Young Women's organization in our church and has had to accompany them on a number of occasions. She just marches her little ole' self up to the front of the group and plays her piece without a hitch. She's always had a lot of gumption...

I really could go on and on. And luckily, this is my own personal forum to go on and on. I could tell you how many wonderful friends she has. Or how she makes everything she's doing seem like a trip to Disneyworld. Or how sometimes she calls me on my phone, frustrated with something she's working on, and fully expects me to right her world via my cellular connection. I could tell you that she fights with her siblings, but she also watches over them, and guides them, and is most often ready with encouragement or sympathy. I could tell you that she still chain-watches I Love Lucy episodes, that she draws, that her room is nearly always a disaster zone.

But today, I'm mostly thinking about a head-strong little girl who came barreling into my life sixteen years ago. She was demanding from the day she was born. She was never one to sit back and observe; she really likes to be in the thick of things. To assert herself. To  make her mark. And more and more, I find that her movement doesn't really need a firm hand, as much as it requires a watchful eye of appreciation and support. Her wings are growing stronger, but all I really want to tell her is..."don't fly. Stay with me a little longer." Happy birthday baby.