Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch

Sometimes it's hard to stay on top of everything that's in the pile underneath me.  A few updates:

• Ava is potty trained.  WHAT?!  Yes.  Almost completely.  Diapers happen at naptime and bedtime, but she wakes up dry 90% of the time.  HOWEVER, somebody may have stocked up on diapers less than a month ago, so we're going to use them up and then we're done.  In a related story, if you know anyone who needs size 5 diapers, point them my way.
• Our "Ava has never even had a prescription" streak ended simultaneously with the "Ava's never even seen a doctor besides her normal pediatrician."  Thanks to a particularly long-lasting encounter with croup plus fever, Ava now has joined the ranks of the masses for whom health insurance is terribly important.  She's fine, and now we know how to navigate a late-night run to the ER.  Hopefully it won't come up again anytime soon.
• New house?  Not so new anymore, but still fabulous.  FABULOUS, I say.  We're gearing up for Thanksgiving, which we are hosting because we have room, which is FABULOUS!  Really, I'm so excited.  We have more people coming than we have spaces at the table, so we're (temporarily, thank you Dad&Florence) bringing in a second table BECAUSE THERE IS ROOM!  So wonderful.  The abundance of it all is just astonishing.
• Work?  Work is still what it has been, which is a steady (albeit furloughed, reduced, increasingly precious) paycheck and not much else.  I'm working (HA! a pun.) on figuring out what I really want to be when I grow up, and it's hard.  Returning to my previous incarnation as an adviser of any sort is becoming less attractive as an option, and we're starting to entertain the idea of me doing something Completely Different.  That's really all the news on that.  Nothing has happened yet.  But I think what's important here is to have acknowledged the necessity for Something to happen and that such a thing would be OK. 

Part of the reason there hasn't been a lot new happening on the blog is that I can now just shoot a picture or a video on my phone and then put it on Facebook in real time.  I'd like to get back to writing more about what's happening, though, instead of "HEY look at this thing that JUST HAPPENED RIGHT NOW."  with no additional witty commentary. It's hard to come up with said commentary unless I'm in the right frame of mind, and I believe it's time to get back into the right frame of mind.

Brace yourself, then, for forthcoming wit.  I'm back.

This Little Light of Mine

I have fallen wildly in love with Ava.  I am That Mom, officially.  I cannot get enough of her.  I am constantly telling everybody who is within the sound of my voice how marvelous she is. 


LOOK HOW MARVELOUS SHE IS:

I mean really.  

She is, without a doubt, the most phenomenal child ever to walk (or bounce...) upon this earth.

We went to the Zoo, and people watched her watching the animals.  THAT is how fantastic she is.

Even her shadow is interesting and noteworthy.

She lights up the room.

She has a sense of humor about herself, though. 

 I mean, really.

Even when she is holding a flower made out of balloons, she's still the cutest thing in the picture.
 

I've never had so much fun.  Really.  She's a riot.  She says the funniest damn things.  She DOES the funniest damn things.  She doesn't walk; she scampers.  She doesn't laugh like the rest of us mere mortals; she giggles like a bottle of champagne popping open.  She's always in motion, perched on her tiptoes ready to take flight.  

She makes me gush purple prose like a big stupid fountain, and I cannot get enough.  Someday, perhaps, I'll look back at this and read through it shaking my head while I think, "where did that little girl go? and who is this person in her place?" But right now, as much as I love the silence that comes when naptime finally happens (um, new favorite book?  yeah...) I can't help but eagerly listen for the little chirps and songs that mean she's awake and ready for more.

More Kool-Aid, Please

I have joined a cult.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not a joiner. I'm not a people person. I don't like daily affirmations and I really get suspicious of anyone who is too enthusiastic about anything.

But my house was a mess. Not like on Clean Sweep, which I actually cannot even watch because it makes me angsty. It was more of a consistently piley cluttery step-over-stuffy sort of environment. And that stresses me out, especially when I'm carrying a baby in one hand and an armful of stuff in the other.

Enter the Flylady.

Flylady wants us to have a clean house. Not OCD clean. Not clean at the expense of your family's sanity and all your spare time clean. Flylady believes that if I spend 15 minutes a day tidying up and one hour a week with a vacuum and a duster, the house will become clean and stay clean.

Flylady emails me friendly reminders about things like "rebooting the laundry". Cute, huh? Rebooting it means that if it's not folded and put away, I need to get off my tuckus and move it one step closer to that status. Flylady wants the last thing I do every day to be a ritual Shining of my Sink. Not a metaphor. A shiny kitchen sink is the key to a clean house. Flylady wants me to sort the junkmail before it even gets inside the house so it doesn't pile up. Flylady wants me to set a timer for 15 minutes, walk into the Room of the Week, and, working clockwise (NEVER COUNTER-CLOCKWISE ONLY CLOCKWISE), I should hum a merry tune whilst "blessing my home" with cleanliness.

What pisses me off is that it works. Instead of spending a big chunk of time every evening stomping around with a Swiffer and clearing off the table (again) and getting frustrated with what doesn't get done, I spend less than half an hour focusing on whatever today's mission is and then I'm done.

I'll be damned if the house isn't clean and the laundry isn't folded and put away.

Sometimes she gets a bit Thankful To Our Lord, and the stuff she has for "WOHMs" (work outside-the home moms, as opposed to stay at home moms) is obviously attached as an afterthought, but I like that she advocates the creation of a system. Her methods require the creation and implementation of routines, and that makes me very happy. I love systems and routines like nobody's business.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go shine my stupid sink.