may your days be merry and bright

'tis the season

I've been feeling a little down lately. I think the holidays are catching up with me. I was going strong for a while. We decorated the house with our Moravian star, outdoor lights, and window candles. We've been listening to Christmas carols at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, singing along loudly. And, I've drunk more than my share of gingerbread lattes. But, this week, this week, I crashed. It wasn't just the fact that TWO tree lots we visited were closed and that we ended up getting our tree at Home Depot where a bird pooped on my head. And, it also wasn't the fact that while we were enjoying blueberry pancakes at IHOP our Christmas tree - strapped to the roof of our car - was getting rained on in a torrential downpour. It certainly wasn't the fact that our credit card got declined at the IHOP for insufficient funds due to our overzealous holiday shopping. Instead, I think I've come down with Elf on the Shelf Syndrome.

Let me explain.

If it hadn't been for Petula Dvorak and her article in The Washington Post this past December I probably wouldn't have the language for what's been ailing me. But, when I read her article, it all made sense. Anyone who knows me knows that one of my deepest desires is to be "together." I want containers filled with crayons. I want to organize my jewelry in a spice rack. I want to be able to find my house keys. For goodness sake, why do you think I take my pen name from "Martha Stewart" and "Mrs. Beeton!" Those women have(had) it together. Yet sadly, there are no labeled containers of sugar here. No toile covered ironing boards on my watch. In this house, chaos seems to reign. And, the holidays are, for me, all about magnifying my inadequacies.

(Yes, that's laundry on the couch along with a frog, a Santa, some ornaments, bubble wrap, and a vacuum to show my good intentions.) 

As one friend once described me: "Caroline has the uncanny ability to channel Bridget Jones (which means, while she might not actively seek out mischief and embarrassment, it finds her nonetheless)." Yup. That's me in a nutshell.

Dvorak's article helped to explain things a bit, though. If my stress is ten fold during a normal holiday season, imagine how intensified my anxiety becomes as a new parent. Not only must I find the perfect gifts for everyone on my list, but I've also got to find the perfect gifts for a pretty special little someone. And, I've got to secretly assume the role of that magical, marvelous "Ho Ho" - all while feeling pretty un-magical and un-marvelous. And now, according to Dvorak, I'm facing off not only against my inner Martha but also the crazy over-achieving parents she mentions in her article - the ones whose elves are having pillow fights and baking cookies! What's a mediocre mom to do?

Well, I think tonight this mom is going to stop sending her husband out to the store to find Christmas lights for the tree in the hopes that they can finally (FINALLY!) decorate it. And I may also just ignore this chaos in favor of a glass of wine and an episode of Revenge. I know the elf is watching. But quite frankly, I don't care.

Keep sweeping, Martha

#flashbackfriday

30 rock

I'm staring down at least 45 hours of grading over the next two weeks or so. I have beautiful stacks of 12-15 page research projects all over my guest bed. But, I'm determined not to let the holiday happiness pass me by. That's why last night we went to downtown Silver Spring to watch the ice skaters. It. Is. The. Best. Especially if you follow it up with cupcakes from Cakelove and a quick imitation of Wreck-It Ralph for passersby.

This shot is taken through the window at Adega. Mr. Beeton and I got back to our Friday afternoon working lunch dates, and we decided to go to Adega. We had a window seat with a perfect view of the skaters.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watched The Five-Year Engagement. Watching Homeland: Season One, Revenge: Season Two, and Happy Endings: Season One.

great expectations

Last weekend, Mr. Beeton and I traveled to Pennsylvania for my twentieth high school reunion. If you had told me when I was eighteen that I'd be returning twenty years later - voluntarily - I would have laughed. High school was not my best time. As a teenager, I was filled with insecurities, compounded by a heart wrenching "friend break-up" that left me feeling rather untethered. I eventually found my way to a wonderful group of girls, several of whom I reunited with last weekend, but overall, I'm glad that, in retrospect, high school was a mere blip on my life's radar.

I've been thinking a lot about friendship lately in part because of my reunion, in part because it's Thanksgiving, and in part because I just finished Kelle Hampton's Bloom - a wonderful memoir recounting the birth of Hampton's second child, a daughter named Nella. In her book, Hampton honestly recounts her disappointment that Nella was born with Down's Syndrome and poignantly records her struggles to come to terms with accepting a baby that she never envisioned the nine months she was pregnant.

Hampton's story struck a chord with me. She writes about how looking at the clothes she wore the night she went to the hospital to deliver Nella made her weep - how they embodied a "before" and an imagined "after" that she wholeheartedly mourned. I could identify with that feeling; it was the same one I got, strangely, whenever I now pushed open the door to the bathroom on the floor of my ob/gyn's office. The woman who stopped there after every doctor's appointment, staring at the beauty of her big belly in the full length mirror next to the door, excited for a celebratory post-appointment lunch with her husband at the Peacock Cafe was not the same woman I saw now, the one bogged down by a haze of sadness she couldn't explain. Like Hampton, my delivery and post-delivery visions were entirely different from what would become my reality, and I, too, mourned.

I don't think I've ever explicitly stated here that I had postpartum depression after Baby Beeton's birth and that those first few months contained some of the lowest moments of my life. And I still can't seem to reconcile the fact that what should have been one of the happiest times in my life was actually one of the worst. It's taken a while to understand what happened and to make peace with it. Reading Hampton's book was, for me, a step toward forgiving myself for something I couldn't control and another step toward moving on. (Thanks, M, for lending it to me.)

One of the things that struck me when reading Bloom was the incredible support system that Hampton had around her after Nella's birth. She had both family and friends who, on a moment's notice, dropped everything to be with her, to help her through. I was so impressed with that kindness - the offering without having been asked.

I found my own support system in the months following Baby Beeton's birth. Surprisingly, it wasn't found in the people I expected to find it in. Instead, I mostly found help in, as Blanche DuBois would say, "the kindness of strangers" - my therapist, my Wednesday night support group, my book club, and, most significantly, my Takoma Mamas group. I owe this last group so much - even though they probably don't know it. Our weekly meetings, where we shared our tips and asked our questions, was literally a high point of each week. Seeing that I wasn't alone, knowing I had a chance to be heard, that meant everything to me. I'm continually impressed by this group of smart, funny, thoughtful women. They are always there for one another, whether someone needs advice about frequent night wakings or whether someone needs to borrow a booster seat for visiting guests. And, while all we might see on television (and sometimes experience in real life, especially high school) are women arguing, backstabbing, excluding (think the Real Housewives franchise), these women go out of their way to be inclusive. Despite the fact that we all have different personalities and that some of those personalities mesh better than others, these women really make an effort to make everyone feel included. I couldn't have found a better, more accepting, community at a time when I desperately needed it.

Perhaps what I've learned this past year is that sometimes the people you expect to be standing by you when you need them the most aren't the ones who actually end up next to you. Certainly, I envisioned a different group of high school girls surrounding me in my senior photos, but actually, the ones that I ended up with were better than any I could imagine.

So I've leave you with a little Kelle Hampton inspiration. A little vision for my future. Something to one day give thanks for.

"Someday, several years from now, my friends and I will gather for coffee, and we'll talk about our kids' college applications. How much car insurance costs for teenagers. How we love our daughter's boyfriend (Oh God, I hope). But we'll remember that the depth of our cherished friendships began when we showed up long ago. When we held out our arms to hold each other's babies for the very first time. When we made mothering an infant seem a little less isolating because we stopped by, we brought meals, we rocked and kissed those newborns and we celebrated.

Because it takes a village."

- "Hallmark: It Takes a Village," Enjoying the Small Things, February 28, 2012

Keep sweeping, Martha

5

four-ward

The other night I wrote a beautiful post in my head about the impending election when I was having trouble falling asleep. Of course, when I woke up, I had trouble remembering all my profound thoughts. And, now, naturally, it's 10:13 pm, and I still have several research project proposals to grade before I turn in for the night.

But, I couldn't let this momentous occasion pass without a little nod to Obama and Biden (I know I express my love for Joe on Facebook quite a bit, but I'm not sure I've ever publicly declared it on this blog... I've always had a soft spot for him ever since September 11th when he came to speak at the University of Delaware... I swear his moving speech that day was one of the only things that kept me from dissolving). After all, the election in 2008 led to one of the most memorable Januarys I've ever had (a newly pregnant friend and her husband crashing at our house, a late night trip to Georgetown in search of some inaugural action, a delicious dinner at Napoleon prior to the ball, my sweet dress from Reiss, an absolutely electrifying afternoon on the mall, and C, need I remind you just how much Kavanagh's Pizza we ate that weekend?!). It certainly was a weekend to remember.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Finished reading Bloom by Kelle Hampton and Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. 

* Note: I am hosting our bookclub discussion on Gone Girl next week. If you've got any good recipes for a crowd, send them my way!

the night you came into my life

to tide you over

it's the great pumpkin

lunch is the new dinner

Dearest, dearest readers. I don't know what kind of voodoo magic you all have been doing on our behalf but whatever it is I thank you for it. Following that last post, we entered a divine week of really, really good sleep. And, as a result, I had been feeling like a million bucks. Of course, minor disruptions have set in again, but the memory of that week keeps me going.

I think another mood booster has been our commencement of "Date Fridays." Fridays originally began as a day devoted to work. It's the day when our babysitter C (who's so wonderful!) spends the afternoon with Baby Beeton, and it was our intention to spend the four hours that she's here working on whatever it is that we need to do (thinning plants, writing grants, revising chapters, assembling promotion materials - yikes!). But, after the first few weeks, we realized that all this work could be done outside of our home, that we could actually leave and return when her shift was done. So, we began going out to lunch and then heading somewhere to do work. This past Friday, we went to Busboys and Poets, and in weeks past, we've gone to Takoma Bistro, Adega, and Wasabi. And, we've found ourselves typing away in the Silver Spring Whole Foods, the Stamp Student Union, and the McKeldin Library. It's been the best way to end the work week and begin the weekend.

We even managed to sneak in a dinner date. We had intended to use a gift certificate we received for Christmas from two years ago (thanks K & B) to Marvin in the U. Street Corridor a few weeks ago. But instead, we spent the evening in the veterinary hospital with Ella who was attacked by a nasty, nasty dog on the Sligo Creek Trail (I'd love to track down the dog's owner who walked away rather quickly after the vicious attack and who most likely lives in one of those mansions lining the parkway... it would give me great satisfaction to present him with the $2000 bill!). Once Ella - and we - recovered, we decided to try again, and thanks to Grammy and Papa who came to sit with Henry, we were able to not only have a terrific meal but also join our friend E for her 30th birthday. I can't say that I've ever had a cocktail as delicious as the one I had that night (even if it cost $12 and took me 20 minutes to get). Unfortunately, I can't remember the name and googling "champagne" and "marvin" has produced ridiculous results.

In any case, that's a brief update from here. I realize that I'm long overdue for a post about Baby Beeton, but in order to do that, I need some photographs so that you can see our growing boy in all his glory (maybe today... we're headed to the pumpkin patch). Let me just say that lately, I feel a lot like I live in a zoo - "minou, minou, quack, quack, woof, woof."

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watched What to Expect When You're Expecting and Conception. (I realize that there's a theme here, but don't worry, dear readers, it means nothing. Believe me.)

i went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair

Oh my. Things have been rough at the Beeton household as of late.

Have you ever read this book?

Lately, I feel as though I've been living it. Terrible. Horrible. No good. Very Bad.

If sleeplessness were as compelling a topic for everyone else as it is for me, I'd be on my way to writing my very own saga - think Twilight or Fifty Shades of Grey without the vampires or sadomasochism lite. But, unfortunately, tales of 4:45 am awakenings - complete with smiles and the practicing of new words - does not make for riveting drama, beyond the walls of our home, of course.

When Baby Beeton started walking, people told me to relax. Now would be the time that he'd really sleep like a log. He'd be so tired from racing around the house that he wouldn't be able to keep his eyes open come bedtime.

Well, I'm sorry "experienced" mothers. That's not the case at our house. Instead, we've got a wide-eyed baby boy come 1 am, 2 am, even 3 am, awake and ready to start practicing his steps.

It seems as though we have come to a crossroads. Up until this point, we've resisted any kind of sleep training, but it looks like Baby Beeton might need a little coaching in the falling-back-to-sleep-on-your-own department. Both Mr. Beeton and I agree that we want to minimize the crying - for our sake and his - so we'll be trying the go in, soothe, go out method. But we are going to try to stop rocking him until he falls asleep again. It's not doing any of us any good, I'm afraid.

Of course, all this sleeplessness colors each and every day. Forgetting your umbrella, jamming the copier, being completely ill-prepared for class - these all seem so much more catastrophic when you're operating on less than the ideal amount of sleep. (What's ideal you ask? For me, nine hours. Yup. That's how many hours I slept straight each and every night before Baby Beeton arrived. Maybe that's why this has been so tough.) It's hard to take a deep breath sometimes and laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation (having to borrow an umbrella of a student to run across the quad and make copies on the copier that you hopelessly jammed earlier for all your colleagues and which hopefully by now is fixed or you don't have a lesson plan).

Thank goodness for caramel lattes, crazy splashing in the bathtub, the public library, and Ella's pouches. It's the little things that make the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad a little bit better.

That and at least nine hours. Cross your fingers for me.

Keep sweeping, Martha

the dog days are over

It's not time yet, but I know that soon, very soon, we will be packing up the screened-in-porch and heading inside for good. It's only partly untrue that this space is one of the the only reasons I agreed to move. (Picture Anastasia from the Lois Lowry books, making a list of all the things she wanted before she would move out of Glover Park paradise... a screened-in-porch, on street parking, a garage, a yard... be careful what you wish for.) And we've made the most of it, eating every meal outside and spending most evenings there after dinner, playing with our toy car, practicing walking. We spruced it up significantly, painting the floor, adding a table built by my grandfather, some chairs left behind by the previous owner which we spray painted fiestaware colors. New chair cushions and colorful placemats. A bamboo rug. A $20 wicker loveseat from Craigslist (what would I do without Craig?), which we'll also spray paint. A new cushion and pillow. Lanterns from West Elm. It's definitely my favorite place to be. With a great view of our garden and all the "minou-minous" (i.e. alley cats), I can't think of a better place to close out summer.

Happy Labor Day!

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watching Revenge: Season 1.

biped baby beeton

return to

Who in their right mind would want to go back to work when you could play peek-a-boo all day?

Keep sweeping, Martha

Finished reading Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern.

rumble

Those of you who are loyal readers already know that two impending deadlines are fast approaching. The first marks the end of my fifteen month leave from teaching (one semester of family leave, one semester of sabbatical, two summers) - August 21st. The second is the upcoming deadline for my book project (don't get too excited... it's a scholarly analysis of food writing) - September 1st. In order to get things done and not crack up entirely, I'll be taking a little break from all things distracting - mainly the Internet.

But, I thought before I departed I would leave you with a photograph of the newest member of our family - Rusty James. Mr. Beeton tells me that Rusty was a stowaway who magically appeared in his school bag one day after being used as a model for one of the science summer camp sessions. As you can see, Mr. Beeton's made it quite nice for him here on Quackenbos Street, not to mention that someone else is quite taken with the PISH as well.

Keep sweeping, Martha

(not) time

Fair warning. This post is about breastfeeding. So, if you're not interested, just move on by. Nothing at all for you here.

Breastfeeding is definitely a topic that my mom would warn against posting about. She likes to remind me that my relatives read this blog. And, she does not feel - as many Generation X, Y, and Zers feel - that it is okay to publish every little thing you do on the web. But, I feel as though something that I devoted myself to for that past 14 months deserves at least one post. Right?

Have you ever seen the movie, Lovely & Amazing? If you haven't, you should. It's just as the title describes. In it, Catherine Keener plays a character who feels like a failure in nearly every aspect of her life. She goes to a launch party for her sister, who is an actress, and when people engage her in small talk, all she can do is go on and on about how she delivered her child naturally. She keeps saying that it was her biggest accomplishment.

Sometimes, when I think back on this past year, I feel like Catherine Keener's character. When I'm low or feeling inadequate (which, if you've been reading this blog, has pretty much been the entire first year of Baby Beeton's life), I think to myself, "But I'm breastfeeding." Silly, I know. I'm sure if I said that to some agent at a launch party they'd walk away from me, too.

This road for me has been really hard, and the breastfeeding road, specifically, wasn't exactly easy. With the complications from the surgery, I had to stop breastfeeding for about two weeks or so. And, then, like a lot of women, I had some trouble early on. The Breastfeeding Center of D.C. was on speed dial. There was an uncomfortable trip to Chicago, some fights with that blasted pump, and the discovery of Lecithin. Finally, I gave up on pumping entirely and let my body do what it needed to do. When that happened, it got easy.

And, then, about a week ago, Baby Beeton decided he was done. I had been slowly phasing out feedings so that we were down to first thing in the morning and before bed. Then, we tried skipping the morning feeding, and Baby Beeton didn't seem to notice. Instead, he seemed to really enjoy sipping his whole milk while taking Ella for her morning walk. We had planned to stop the night feeding when Mr. Beeton finished with science camp, but smack-dab in the middle of that week, Baby Beeton was more interested in flipping through pop-up books than nursing. I took it as a sign. And here we are. Weaned at fourteen months.

I realize that breastfeeding is a completely normal, natural thing for a woman to do, but I also think in this day and age woman can face a lot of opposition in making this choice. Abbreviated maternity leave. Little or no insurance coverage for lactation services. The normalization of bottle feeding. Articles like the Time Magazine one don't help. But, I think one of the biggest obstacles is the lack of a supportive environment. Luckily, that wasn't the case for me. I can honestly say that I owe my breastfeeding success to my dear friend C who lent me lots of books and who reminded me when things got tough that it would one day get easier (I didn't believe her, but she was so right!) and the moms in my weekly-meeting mom group (I could go on and on about these women, and I will in a future post!). Breastfeeding in that environment was easy because so many of them elected to do so. As a result, we were able to help each other out during the whole process from sharing what pumps worked best to what places sold the trendiest nursing tops. Having the support of these women made me feel more secure in my decision.*

I remember reading Sherry's post on Young House Love when she finished nursing her daughter and thinking, "Holy smokes! How did she make it that long? And without pumping? Ever?" I re-read the post the other day, and I realized that Baby Beeton was about the same age as her daughter when he moved on - 14 months! Made me feel a little proud of both me and my baby.

In celebration, Mr. Beeton is taking me out for drinks (ah, drinks!) and dinner at Marvin. His idea, not mine. I thought it was sweet that he wanted to mark the occasion. Because, after all, it's a milestone, worth of being recorded - even if it's on the web.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watched Friends With Kids.

* I should note that all the moms in my group were equally supportive of the bottle feeding moms (as I am, too!). That's something I love about these ladies. They embrace the feminist notion of choice.

setting the summer sun on fire

If you don't know who Andy Cohen is, you should. I've been a fan of his as long as I can remember - or at least since Bravo began airing Real Housewives reunions. Mr. Beeton and I would laugh and laugh and laugh when Andy asked a ridiculously rude question that was supposedly sent in by a viewer but which was probably just something he wanted to know. He's cool like that.

We've also been seriously addicted to Andy's late night show - Watch What Happens Live. It looks like it might be filmed in his mom and dad's basement; he and his guests play outrageous games; and it contains a crazy combination of guests (Anderson Cooper and Camille Grammer, Rachel Maddow and Jenni Pulos, NeNe Leakes and Michelle Obama... okay, I made that last one up). The show is so wacky that it was spoofed on Saturday Night Live. (Just for the record, they are a little too mean to Andy for my taste in this one.)



Well, I found out the other day that Andy is having a contest. You see, another quirky aspect of Andy's show is that he has a bar on set, and in each episode, there is a different bartender. The grand prize for his contest, Raise the Bar, is to BE ANDY'S BARTENDER FOR A NIGHT! So, of course, I entered. You had to submit a written piece that was 200 words or less explaining why you are WWHL's biggest fan and why you deserve to be behind Andy's bar.

Top Ten Reasons Why I Deserve to Be Behind the Bar in Andy’s Clubhouse

10 – Because as an English teacher, I swoon every time you say, “Hello caller. What’s your name, and from where are you calling?”

9 – Because I make a mean Pimm’s cup.

8 – Because you took my D.C. housewives away. You owe me.

7 – Because I go to the Jersey Shore every summer, and I never wear sunscreen.

6 – Because I can’t wait to see your parents' basement. (That’s where you film, right?)

5 – Because my husband and I played drinking games to WWHL before you did.

4 – Because if I were a real housewife, my tagline would be – In this capital city, there’s only one president. Mazel! (Said in Heather’s voice.)

3 – Because last year, at age thirty-seven, I had my first baby, and I didn’t hire Rosie Pope.

2 – Because if you think Jiggy’s cute, wait until you meet my Westie, Ruby.

1 – Because if you didn’t pick me, you’d be MY jackhole of the week.

If you are a true Andy fan, you'll understand what I've written above. And, if you're not, then you won't, so you'd better tune in every week night on Bravo and get up to speed!

Keep sweeping, Martha

burning in my heart

For those of you who may not have heard, the DMV area found themselves smack-dab in the center of a heat wave these past few weeks. As a result, it's been too hot to blog. I've started several posts but haven't finished them. Today, however, it's a glorious 75 degrees and cloudy. I'm still recovering, though, so all you'll get from me is a top ten list, some photographs, and a short little video. Enjoy!

Top Ten Ways to Beat the Heat

10. Pick radishes. You've read about our past experiences with container gardening here and with our community garden plot here. Well, I think we finally got it right. We constructed our own little raised garden plots at the side of our house, and we've got radishes!

9. Read Ann Patchett and watch Weeds. No explanation needed.

8. Visit the National Gallery of Art. This D.C. site has lots to offer in a heat wave - air conditioning, gelato, Leo Villareal's Multiverse, and a nearly empty contemporary art gallery where little ones can crawl around until their heart is content.

7. Follow up visit to art gallery with a visit to RDF. After strolling around the art museum, we stopped off at RDF for some hummus, beer, and white sangria. A great halfway stopping point between the museum and the metro.

6. Trek out to Tysons Corner. We window-shopped, played at Barnes and Noble, and dined at Gordon Biersch. Unfortunately, a lot of other people had this same idea. As a result, Tysons Corner wasn't much cooler than our living room.

5. Learn new tricks. We thought we could make this video go viral by replacing our silly jabbering with "I'm so mad at Pepco!"

4. Drink Pimm's Cups. This drink really is the ultimate heat wave drink. Combine a quarter of a cup Pimm's with three-quarters of a cup of ginger ale. Add ice and a slice of cucumber.

3. Make baby-friendly popsicles. There are so many creative sites out there with recipes for popsicles! I made mine with yogurt and frozen blueberries, and I put them in the rocket pop molds that I bought at Whole Foods. Yummy!

2. Make your own country club. Combine one inflatable pool with one goofy grin. What heat wave?

1. Get a haircut. Yup. We finally did it. A few tears were shed (mine, not his), but around these parts, it's a hundred percent cooler.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Finished reading State of Wonder by Ann Patchett. Watching Weeds: Season 7. 

Happy day-after-birthday to Fairy Godmother M! We love you lots around here.

good night sleeps

A while back someone I work with wrote me to say that she had googled my name, looking for my email address, and this site came up:

CAROLINE SMITH AND THE GOOD NIGHT SLEEPS

My colleague, who has a baby the same age as Henry (in fact, we delivered in the same hospital and are still wondering how we didn't run into each other in the hallway), thought this search result was hilarious, and I do, too. After all, a good night sleep is all I've been dreaming of this entire past year.

I've been reading Gluten-Free Girl every free minute I get this week. The chapter I'm working on now for my food memoir book is about food blogging, so instead of reading memoirs in hardback, I'm trolling through blog posts, reading about and looking at delicious food.

Revisiting these posts, I realized just the other day, couldn't have come at a better time in my life. It's funny how certain books find you at certain moments of your life.  The Novel. The Bell Jar. Animal Husbandry. These books found me when I needed them. Shauna, the site's author, has a definite passion for life, having nearly lost hers in a car accident and living, painfully, with celiac for a long time. She truly experiences an epiphany upon hearing her diagnosis and promises to live life fully and to truly appreciate it all. Her site is not just yummy; it's uplifting.

I'd like to think that I've been one to carry Shauna's zest for life. It doesn't take much to make me happy. Things like sunshine, cold milk in a mug, purple hydrangeas. But, this past year, I lost some of that. But, I'm getting it back.

And, I know that part of getting it back rests with getting, well, rest. Baby Beeton, as anyone who knows me knows, has not been a great sleeper. He's restless. He's not too hard to get to sleep, but he has had a devil of a time staying asleep. And, since we sit with him before naps and at night until he dozes off, that means a lot of work for us (I know, I know, don't lecture me... drowsy but awake... next one, I promise). It's been a tough year. As someone who was used to getting about ten hours of sleep a night (and not waking up before 8:30 pm), it's even tougher.

But, the past few weeks have been infinitesimally better. Naps are regulating themselves and night sleep has followed. Baby Beeton still wakes up quite a bit, but he'll sleep now from 8:30 pm until 6:30 am or 7 am with relatively little work for us to do during that time. It's made a big difference in the way I see the world, and it's made me realize that nothing lasts forever... even though sometimes it seems like it might. Knowing that one day he'll sleep soundly and consistently has helped me to make peace with the fact that that time isn't quite yet now. But it will be. One day.

So, today, while he napped, I took a break from reading. I took a bath. I had a cold coffee. I watched some bad reality television. I remembered all the little reasons why life is good. Good night sleeps, I'm sure, aren't far away.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watched Away We Go (again).

young house hate

The other day I was getting seriously down in the dumps about our house. I have kind of a love/hate relationship with it. Most days, I love it - the screened in porch, the yard, Baby Beeton's room. But, other days... well, let's just say that on other days I'm cursing the previous owner for his knack for doing-it-himself. Poorly. There's just so much left to do! And some days, it gets to me.

So, I sat down to make a list of all that we've accomplished since we moved in. My favorite DIY bloggers at Young House Love do this all the time. (And, a wise friend in grad school once told me that there is nothing better for making you feel organized than a "To Do" list... for all you Delawarians, that's an inside joke.) And, by gosh, I felt better. I'd forgotten about all the things we'd done - new chimney cap, taking that awful glue off the walls, the paint splattered wood trim, removing the pornographic light plates. The list showed me that while we still have a long way to go, we've come, very, very far.

Here it is...

Outside

·      Landscape front

·      Remove two fir shrubs

·      Build raised garden beds

·      Landscape back

·      Install rain barrel

·      Enclose rain barrel with trellis material

Front Porch

·      Paint ceiling

·      Paint trim

·      Paint railing

·      Paint floor

·      Furnish

·      Install new light fixture

Whole House

·      Redo windows

·      Refinish floors

·      Upgrade electric

·      Chimney upgrade

·      Ground house

·      Open up roof

·      Redo roof

·      Remove antenna/wires

Closets

·      Remove wallpaper and paint

Hall

Upstairs hall

Henry’s room

Our room

Guest room

·      Upstairs hall

o   Crack (partially)

o   Paint

Back porch

·      Redo stairs

·      Paint ceiling

·      Paint trim

·      Paint floor

·      Furnish

·      Install new light fixture

·      Redo screens

Hallway Entrance

·      Paint

·      Install new light fixture

·      Rug

·      Window treatment

Living Room

·      Remove border

·      Paint

·      Install new light fixture

·      Window treatments

·      Furnish

·      Paint radiator

·      Replace banister

·      Hang pictures

Dining Room

·      Remove border

·      Paint

·      Install new light fixture

·      Window treatments

·      Furnish

·      Paint radiator

Kitchen

·      Replace stove

·      Replace refrigerator

·      Replace flooring

·      Paint

Cabinets

Walls/Ceiling

·      Remove fan

·      Replace under-the-sink grate

·      Major overhaul

Henry’s Room

·      Paint

·      Install new light fixture

·      Window treatment

·      Furnish

·      Paint radiator

Master Bedroom

·      Paint

·      Install new light fixture

·      Window treatments

·      Furnish

·      Paint radiator

Guest Room

·      Paint

·      Install new light fixture

·      Window treatments

·      Furnish

·      Paint radiator

Bathroom

·      Paint

·      Install new light fixture

·      Window treatment

·      Paint radiator

·      Replace showerhead

·      Replace sink

·      New cabinet

Upstairs Hallway

·      Paint

·      Carpet

Attic

·      Added insulation

·      Added floorboards for storage

Basement Room

·      Paint

·      Recarpet

·      Install new light fixture

·      Window treatments

·      Paint radiator

·      Furnish

Basement Bathroom

·      Paint

·      Install new light fixture

·      Install new toilet

·      Install new hardware for tub

·      Install under the sink counter

·      Replace mirror

·      Window treatment

Laundry Room

·      Vented dryer

·      New washer

·      New dryer

·      Paint

·      Enclose water heater

·      Added pump to water heater

·      Replace main valve cock

·      Replace pipes

·      Add standpipe

Garage

·      Paint

·      Paint garage doors

·      Furnish