my view at dusk

Today was a good day.

I haven't been able to say that for a while now. When my pericarditis hit this fall (update soon, I promise), I didn't realize how much it was affecting me physically or emotionally until the cardiologist finally said I needed to take it seriously. I had thought - as I did after Boy Beeton was born - that I was just an inadequate mother. I had thought - because I was so tired all the time - that I was just selfish. I had thought - because I had no patience for anything or anyone - that I was just a bad person. But, it was just the illness, which on top of being physically painful, was also making me tired and depressed.

I know this because today was a good day. I woke up with energy. I played with Boy Beeton this morning. I put away the porch furniture. We went to school. I took a walk. I graded. After school, we picked up some groceries. When we got home, we played soccer in the yard until it got dark. I made dinner. We had a dance party. I calmly dealt with a before bed tantrum. I was myself again.

Keep sweeping,
Martha

Watched The Peanuts Movie.

boo

2015 shots of Halloween... and an oldie but goodie. "The sun will come out..."

Keep sweeping,
Martha

Read Mary Higgins Clark The Melody Lingers On.

bleck

This is how I feel about life lately...

But, I read this great article about the 15th anniversary of one of my favorite films. That made things a bit better.

Keep sweeping,
Martha

Watched Kissing Jessica Stein, I Love You, Man, Love Jones, and Maid in Manhattan.

lump in my throat

Obsessed with this song right now.



This is worth a watch, too.



Keep sweeping,
Martha

Read Judy Blume's In Case of Emergency.

the write stuff

I've been writing most of the afternoon for the first time at my new little space in our office. We cleared out Boy Beeton's nursery a while ago, but this summer we finally got the space in order. The walls are grey; the desk and bookcase are red. The accents are yellow and turquoise. I made an inspiration wall above my desk complete with some paintings from my Nana and Poppop's house, a sweet little drawing by Boy Beeton, my I Love Takoma woodcut, and a framed cover of Good Housekeeping from back in the day (a 40th birthday present from C & A). The black and white photo adds to the romance of the writer's room.

Summer updates and photos to come very soon.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Read Afterbirth by Elisa Albert.

inside/outside

Keep sweeping,
Martha

happy birthday, you're really sweet

Boy Beeton made this video for Uncle T's birthday. Since he couldn't open it via email and since I couldn't figure out how to send it in a different format, I'm posting it here. Boy Beeton looks a lot different than he did celebrating the big 80.

Happy Birthday!

Keep sweeping,
Martha

Watched While We're Young.

american crime

Mr. Beeton started his first week at Johns Hopkins. That means - for all intents and purposes - I'm doing the stay-at-home mom thing from here until the fall semester starts. Darn, if it isn't hard. Tonight, all I wanted was for everyone to go to sleep so that I could plop myself in front of the television and completely zone out.

I thought I'd watch the first episode of American Crime - a show my students highly recommended. It seemed fitting, given this week's (month's? year's? decade's? century's?) cultural climate and devastating circumstances.

Yesterday, Boy Beeton and I were role playing. He was being Peter Parker to my Mary Jane. In my narrative, Mary Jane's mother heads off the circus so that Mary Jane has to move in with Peter and Aunt May. That's how she and Peter become best friends.

Peter asks me, "Hey, Mary Jane. Is your mom at the circus?"

I respond, "Yes."

Then, he says, "Where's your dad?"

I pause to think - this is a part of the narrative I hadn't yet considered.

Before I can even come up with an answer, Peter says, "Oh... wait. You might have two moms. Maybe both your moms are in the circus?"

He said it with such matter-of-factness in his voice, no hesitation that not all families look alike, that this family structure, different from his own, wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

Oh, how I wish that all Americans would embrace Peter's loving acceptance. In his eyes, I saw a small glimmer of what our future could be. Our world could use a little more love and a lot less hate.

Thinking about Charleston tonight.

Keep sweeping,

Martha

Finished reading The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins. Watched most of Wild.

summer sickness

I've been struggling with a virus this week and ended up at the Minute Clinic getting treated for pink eye. Yuck. So here's something to make me smile, courtesy of Cherry Bombe.

Keep sweeping,

Martha

a grain of sand

We got a sandbox this weekend, and it is already changing my life. Boy Beeton played happily while I read Roiphe. Today, he and our neighborhood friend S played while S's mom and I enjoyed a glass of wine. Cheers to a summer of this!

Keep sweeping,
Martha

a wonderfully messy life

I've been reading Katie Roiphe's book In Praise of Messy Lives. I know I'm not supposed to "like" Roiphe, but I love the title of her book. And, since my own life - of late - has felt incredibly messy, I thought it might be comforting to read the words of someone who not only has a messy life but goes so far as to praise it.

The book, which is a collection of previously titled essays, was inspired by an article that Roiphe wrote for The New York Times on Mad Men. It's an interesting read about the phenomenon that is the AMC series, about Roiphe's mother, and about the pursuit of happiness. In reading it, I was struck by the closing passage:

In the 17th century, the metaphysical poet Andrew Marvell wrote, "But at my back I always hear/ Time's winged chariot hurrying near." He also wrote: "The grave's a fine and private place,/ But none, I think, do there embrace." Mad Men seems to be telling us the same thing, in its own stylish, made-for-television way: we are bequeathed on earth one very short life, and it might be good, one of these days, to make sure that we are living it.

Could we use, in other words, in these fine healthy times, just a little of the madness?

My grandmother died this past week. She was 94 years old, and this summer would have been her 71st wedding anniversary to my grandfather. The next day I had to go to New York City for a conference. Before we left, my colleagues/friends and I stopped to take a picture of ourselves at the Don Draper bench near the Time Life building. When I got home, I walked up the stairs, past this fabulous photo of my grandparents, read this chapter in Roiphe's book, and went to sleep.

To me, that's more than a little madness.

Keep sweeping,
Martha

Finished reading Dept. of Speculation by Jenny Offill.

five minutes more

Five more minutes of fame...

Keep sweeping,
Martha

Finished reading The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters and watched Obvious Child.

my five minutes

A student of mine made this little video for a class that she is taking on digital media. I thought I'd share it in case anyone is interested in learning more about my scholarship (or seeing my office).

Keep sweeping, Martha

warm woolen mittens

March has never been the easiest month around here. And this winter has been particularly hard. We've been slogging through, overwhelmed by ridiculous administrative work, preschool decisions, job interviews, and defense scheduling.

It's times like these that you need to focus on the simple things and breathe.

Sewing draft blockers

Roasting vegetables

Eating lots of "jolly soup" (i.e. homemade vegetable soup)

Newspaper wrapping

Coloring

Heavy whipping cream in coffee (accidentally)

Keep sweeping,

Martha

Watching The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt

longest/shortest

I don't want this video to be a metaphor for parenting, but I think it might be.

Today was almost spring-like. We spent it baking Valentine cookies and practicing riding our tricycle.

Keep sweeping,

Martha

Read Superfudge by Judy Blume and The Uncoupling by Meg Wolitzer. Watched Disney's Peter Pan and Lost In Translation (again). 

fly to the sky

She's no Vanessa.

Keep sweeping,
Martha

a portrait of a young girl waiting for a new year

I know this won't solve all my problems. But, right now, it feels like it will.

Keep sweeping, Martha

just like the ones i used to know

So glad I didn't take my tree down yet. There's something about snow outside and twinkling lights inside that makes the days seem easier.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watched In A World.

9 stones (but post-Christmas), alcohol units 1/2 glass of champagne, cigarettes 0, new baskets bought 2

My New Year's resolution.

To get organized.

You can laugh. I know. It's cliche. I am a scholar of women's magazines. I know from the research that I did for my dissertation and subsequent book that January is THE month that women's magazines exploit women's insecurities and make even more outrageous promises about how they can fix your body, your clothes, your hair, your skin, your home. I also know that if they did fix you then their magazines would fold. Hence, the promises never actualize, and you keep needing to buy their magazines because you have not yet perfected your body, your clothes, your hair, your skin, your home.

You can also laugh because, if you know me, you know that I am constantly struggling to tame this home. On one hand, I swear it has a life of its own - its cosmetic challenges, its strange, pulsing energy (which a good smudging ever once in a while tends to erase - thank you, EB's dad). On the other hand, it has two pretty serious hoarders and a toddler living in it. The bottlecaps, the magazines, the toys. Ugh. I need Mehran to perform an intervention.*

But then I remembered. My sister-in-law K (who seriously has it together) swears by baskets. I remember she had a ton on her wedding registry and then on her baby registry. At the time, I laughed. Who needs so many baskets, I thought? I was seriously, seriously naive. And, K was apparently seriously, seriously enlightened.

SIXTY-SEVEN NEW WAYS TO BRING ORDER TO YOUR HOME!

THIRTY-TWO SURE FIRE WAYS TO ELIMINATE CLUTTER!

NINETY-NINE PROBLEMS AND HOME ORGANIZATION ISN'T ONE!

TWO NEW BASKETS AT THE SMITH STEARNS' HOUSE!

I am waaaaay too excited about these baskets.

First of all, let me just say that about two days before Christmas I discovered the Marshalls in Silver Spring. How I did not know it was there, I will never know. But, it's there, and as every Marshalls is, it's fabulous. The basket at the top came from there. It's housing the magnetic blocks and the Marbleworks sets that Boy Beeton received from Grammy and Papa for Christmas. Chaos contained.

The second basket comes from the Marshalls in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, which has... wait for it... A. FULL. ON. HOMEGOODS. COMPONENT. (KPP knows the beauty of this!) This basket will house all our mittens, scarves, hats. They will no longer be strewn about the floor as though a Patagonia store exploded in our living room.

Despite the beauty of these baskets, you'll notice in the corner of the second photo is the handle from a long abandoned push toy, covered in Marbleworks blocks and ribbon.

This is what I'm up against, people.

Small victories, I suppose.

Keep sweeping, Martha

* I was simultaneously horrified and excited by the episode of True Tori where her hoarding was revealed. Oh, how I can relate. Thank goodness I'm an academic and not a reality star.

but a whimper

I wish I could say I ended 2014 with some excitement, but the energy level around here lately hasn't been conducive to merriment. I'm feeling positive about 2015, though, making resolutions at Bridget Jones's breakneck speed. Though my time - right now - would be better served working on my reappointment materials (which are almost - miraculously - done), I am going to follow in the footsteps of my truly inspirational undergraduates this semester and binge watch Vanderpump Rules. Forgive me.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Finished reading Belzhar by Meg Wolitzer and Not That Kind of Girl by Lena Dunham. Watched Gone Girl (!!!) and Girls: Season Three.