just because i'm losing

Um... how did it get to be August 2nd?

I always have this feeling once August hits. No matter how much time summer offers, it never seems like enough. And, inevitably when August hits, I start to mentally list all the things I didn't accomplish. Book. Check. Article. Check. Conference proposal. Check. To be honest, I don't know where the time goes. It seems as though pre and post Baby Beeton this was always the dilemma. It's amazing how doing nothing takes up so much time.

I can't complain. I know. I'm privileged to have a stretch of time without teaching. To think. To research. To read. To write. To blow bubbles.

This morning, in an effort to remain positive, I tried to focus on the things that I did accomplish - the things aside from tent tea parties and trips to Opal Daniels Park. I remember when the summer started, saying to our babysitter, "When you come back in the fall, you won't even recognize this house!" I knew it was a bold statement to make, and as I look around today, I realize that she will, very much so, recognize this house - its broken dining room light fixture, the rooms yet to be painted, the cracked kitchen floor. But, I also know that there are a host of things that we did do that she might not notice but are significant... at least to me.

What follows is a list of summer time accomplishments...

1) A brick border in the front garden.

2) An organized front hall closet.

3) A painted downstairs bathroom.

4) A clean downstairs bathroom.

5) A new downstairs bathroom curtain - made by me (with turquoise ball trim!).

6) A newly hung Kate Spade shower curtain in the downstairs bathroom.

7) A chevron futon in the playroom.

8) A painted and organized desk.

9) New playroom curtains.

10) An organized closet for Baby Beeton.

11) New bedside table lamps in the master bedroom.

12) New bedside table lamp in the guest bedroom.

13) Newly hung hooks throughout the house to help with organization.

14) Back stairs demolished and new stairs on their way up.

15) Plus, countless smaller organizing projects to clear up living space!

To be honest, I think when people visit our house, they tend to forget just what we were up against. I forget what we were up against. I completely forgot that we had to cut our bed in order to get it up our narrow staircase. I blocked from my mind the night I filled the tub, and there were three dead roaches floating in it. Or the time when a dead mouse was discovered by Ruby in our couch. In focusing on our unpainted dining room, I forgot that we had to clear a significant amount of stuff out of our house from the previous owner, including such things as dirty magazines and forgotten underwear. Here's a few pictures of the severity of our initial situation.

I need to remind myself of these facts when I start to feel down about our lovable little money pit. Even though our basement doors downstairs are half painted, at least we have real carpeting down there and not fake green grass. And, while there may not be curtains hung in the guest room, Baby Beeton has a cute little nursery, lovingly painted by his parents. With no more mice.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Read Down Came the Rain by Brooke Shields. 

later's better than never

Sheryl Sandberg would not be happy with me.

If she had walked by my house on Wednesday, she would have seen me literally leaning back in my plastic adirondack chair, my feet soaking in a kiddie pool, blowing bubbles like it was my job. Which it kind of is. At least for now.

I'm not sure I care, though.

(By the way, if you work with me, you might want to skip this post. I don't want you to think less of me for leaning back instead of leaning in.)

I first heard about Sandberg and her book from one of my students - an ambitious young woman with a internship in the office of a prominent Congresswoman. When the student enthusiastically explained the premise (her mother had given it to her as a gift), I internally raised my eyebrows. It sounded incredibly problematic for a number of reasons. Sitting there, facing this eager, young undergrad, I suddenly felt very old. I could see my past self in this student, voraciously consuming Sandberg's words as I carefully planned out my post-graduation future. But realistically, from my current perspective as a new mother, trying to balance going back to work with child care, Sandberg's manifesto seemed a bit oversimplified. Perfect for a wide-eyed co-ed. Not so applicable to a thirty-nine year old, first-time mother.

Admittedly, I still haven't read the book (though it is on my "To Read" list), so I could be totally wrong about Sandberg and her advice to young women. But, I have read the criticism, and it resonantes strongly. Elsa Walsh's response in The Washington Post was particularly insightful. At fifty-five, she thinks back on her children's early years and acknowledges while it seems all consuming at the time it's really just a small, wonderful blip on the screen - one that she wouldn't have wanted to miss, leaning in at work. Allison Stevens, who writes for We News, has a similar response to Sandberg; she notes that until domestic work is shared equally amongst partners in a household there's no sense in trying to do it all. You'll just end up more tired, more angry, and more disappointed in yourself.

In her column, Stevens notes that she's "leaning back" - a philosophy which I am readily embracing this summer, even though I have a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that it might be career self-sabatoge. I still have a book to finish. But, I'm wondering now if turning two chapters into two articles would be more realistic. It would give me a lot more time for blowing bubbles, that's for sure.

In any case, I have to make peace with my career decisions this summer and into the future. Every time I think about exchanging an afternoon at the playground with an afternoon in the library, however, the playground always wins.

I keep reminding myself there are so many reasons not to feel guilty about being fully present with Baby Beeton this summer. As Walsh reminds, childhood is fleeting. And, if Baby Beeton ends up being an only, then I'll only have this one summer with a two-year old who finds such pleasure in butterflies, birdies, ice cream, and dancing to "Gangnam Style." Leaning back, in that case, sounds pretty darn good.

Some shots from our summer of leaning back.

A new favorite pastime - washing dishes (i.e. splashing, splashing, splashing!)

Hoops!

Matching shoes

A game of "whack it" - also knows as golf

One lump or two, teddy?

Keep sweeping, Martha 

kitchen confidential

Started the great kitchen renovation project today. Priming the cabinets one by one while Baby Beeton sleeps. This could take forever, but it will be worth it. Stay tuned for the results.

Keep sweeping, Martha

do not panic

The other night I had a mini-meltdown. I knew it was coming. Instead of being my usual moody self these past seven or so months, I've actually been quite content. It's like this pregnancy has given me happy hormones, which I love. But, the other night I lost it.

I think it's just been the increasing level of stress. It's the end of the semester. I've had research deadlines to meet. I've had papers to grades. And, we've had lots and lots of people giving us advice, which we haven't necessarily asked for. I know everyone means well, but sometimes, you've just got to let a girl and guy and a dog figure out their own way.

So, when I grabbed a pan off the stove that was filled with water (unbeknownst to me) and sausage grease, spilling it all over our already pretty disgusting (aesthetically and cleanliness-wise) kitchen floor, I kind of freaked. All of the sudden the hideous dining room light fixture, the half-painted nursery, and the partially completed guest room seemed too much to handle. I kept thinking, "I cannot bring Baby Beeton back here. We'll have to stay at The Hay-Adams for at least the first six months."

Nevermind that until Sunday night, we had made some good progress - especially for a pair of notorious procrastinators. We'd taken a breastfeeding class at the Breastfeeding Center of D.C. and signed up for a pumping class and an infant care class there in the next few weeks (what can I say? I'm a teacher... I love classes). We'd ordered our crib. I've been keeping up with my prenatal yoga classes (which I love ) at Lil Omm. We'd taken our labor and delivery class. And, we'd toured the hospital. Not to mention we'd scheduled an appointment with our pediatrician. But none of that mattered to me when faced with a greasy kitchen floor.

Today, though, things seem much better. I have only nineteen, 15-page research projects to go and only twenty-six rewrites left to grade. We've come up with a plan for finishing the nursery. And, today was the last day of classes for me until Fall 2012. So, really, what's a little grease on the kitchen floor, right?

Keep sweeping, Martha

the nest

I've been told by my experienced mom friends that I will soon begin nesting, given that I am approaching my 27th week of pregnancy (hard to believe, huh?). When I asked for some more information about nesting (and looked it up online), I started thinking that since we've moved in to dear, old Quackenbos all I've been doing is nesting! The urge to clean, to make sense of disorder, to get rid of asbestos tiles in the kitchen... those impulses have not been brought on by Baby Beeton.

But, I do feel a lot more anxious about the urgency of this all... so much so that I called Empire to come by and give us an estimate to tear up our kitchen floor before June and contacted a local glazing guy to make an appointment to have our vintage sink sprayed with a new coat of paint. Unfortunately, Empire took one look at our sticky tiles and the two underlying layers of ick and claimed that he wouldn't touch it. So... we are looking at re-prioritizing. The kitchen - with its lead paint and deadly tile - will have to wait a while, but re-carpeting the basement and fixing up the screened in porch have now risen in the ranks. There's always something to be done around here!

What else is new? Well, I think our '99 Honda Civic has finally bitten the dust. It's sad but true. We've had it in to the mechanic twice this past week, and after $700 in repairs (that didn't include repairing the broken air conditioning), our mechanic encouraged us to start shopping for a new ride before we take any long road trips. So, it looks like this weekend will be devoted to hitting the lots.

Moments like these, I just want to look at mobiles like this one by sweetlittlebirdie on Etsy. So much neater and more orderly than what we've been facing lately. Now only if she made a Westie one...


Keep sweeping, Martha

Watched You Again. Watching Weeds: Season 6.

wood stress work

I should be writing right now in a serious way about postfeminism and the kitchen, but instead I'm fixated on a little house problem that we're having - cleaning the splattered paint off the woodwork. You see, one of the reasons that we decided to buy our little house was because all of the wood trim had been left untouched - a rare find on the D.C. housing market. Well, I should qualify that. Untouched, that is, except for the fact that whoever painted it before sometimes like to randomly spray paint across the baseboards. Grrr. I'll admit this caused me some concern when we were making a decision about buying, but I thought, "No problem. I can handle this - especially if it means preserving the original wood trim."

But, I'll be honest... it's a huge pain. And, it's presenting us with the only serious obstacle to painting the walls of our house. I don't want to paint until the baseboards are clean, but I really don't want to clean the baseboards. So, that's why all our furniture is still scattered throughout the house - dressers in the office, cardboard boxes filled with pots and pans, clothing stacked on the guest bed.

We did have a breakthrough last night though (in part because our blueberry, rum, and basil cocktails and a new episode of Top Chef made it a bit less painful) - finding the perfect combination of Goof Off, scraping, scouring, and sponging to get almost three-quarters of the bedroom clean. This weekend (keep your fingers crossed), we'll be prepped and primed and ready to paint.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Hooked on Dexter: Season 4 (and loving Debra Morgan). Mr. Beeton watched the other three seasons without me because I boldly declared the show did not interest me. Little did I know.

crunchy like...

I'm celebrating almost, almost being done with the semester with a cleaning spree and some granola. I've finished up with nearly all of my grades (hooray!), and I realized that I needed some time away from the computer, attacking the dust monsters for both my own sanity and the sake of my home. At the end of the day, the kitchen looks fabulous; the laundry is done; and I've got some homemade granola in the oven.

The granola that I'm making is a variation on a recipe that I found at 101 Cookbooks - a favorite food blog of mine. Originally, I had intended to make the recipe posted on Angel Food: Cooking Cheap Without Sacrifice. The blogger is a former Hound; we both graduated from Moravian College and ran in the same literary circles. She found me on Facebook (or I found her... I don't remember which), and we reconnected. I have to say that reading her status updates are sometimes the highlight of my day. She's funny and smart, and I've been wondering why we weren't better friends in undergrad. Her recipe is fantastic, too. I can tell by reading it. But, it requires a bit too much work for this hour. It's late, and I'm tired. So, I pared down the 101 Cookbooks recipe instead.

Here's what I did... 

• I took rolled oats, almonds, and sesame seeds, and I mixed them all together in a big white bowl that was my Nana's. 
  
• Then, I took about a third of a cup of honey, and I mixed it with 2 1/1 tablespoons of vegetable oil. I heated it up in the Le Creuset cookware that my mother-in-law gave to us by way of her neighbor who needed to update her cookware to match her new kitchen color scheme. Lucky us.
  
• I mixed this honey mixture with the dry mixture. I put it in a baking dish, set the oven to 300 degrees, and am stirring occasionally.
  
• My plan now - once it's all cooked - is to combine the heated mixture with some golden raisins and some very tart dried cranberries from Whole Foods.
  

I'm hoping that this recipe turns out better than the last one that I tried from the same site. The Cakes of the Mondays was not successful the first or second time that I attempted it. The granola, however, seems more difficult to mess up... hopefully.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watched Made of Honor.

 

dust monsters

Ever heard of dust bunnies? Well, we've got dust monsters. They are huge, and they are growing under every piece of furniture in our apartment - the telephone table, the record player, the tea cart. It's disgusting. I want to get rid of them... I honestly do, but I don't have the time. I'm working my way through a stack of papers. And, when I'm done, that's when I'll go head-to-head with the dusty monsters.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watched I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry.