Wednesday, April 2, 2014

the messy coat closet

Today I planned to clean up my little coat closet. It was looking pretty messy so I started by completely emptying it. I started with this. Eek!


Yuck!


Once I got it empty, I said "yuck" again. Then I got excited. I guess I get a little silly when I see an empty room, even if it's tiny. So many possibilities!

Three hours later...


I painted, brought in a little book case that had been hanging out in the guest room/sewing room and used the drawer from the blue hanging thing in the first picture.The coats won't be needed for a long time so they are now in the guest room closet. They will probably stay there permanently since we rarely wear coats down here in Texas anyway.



 I hung this cute owl that had been looking for a home for a while and hung my baby bib on it. You can't see it unless you really stick your head in there, but I like it that way. :)


Hooray for turning coat closets into linen closets! I really wanted to buy some nice drawers or something originally but in the end I didn't buy anything new and I might be even happier that way. ;)

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

a morning of romantics

I'm in a rambling mood this morning. As I helped my husband get ready for work today, I thought about the bloggers and authors that write in an overly romanticized fashion. I thought to myself, they could make a piece of pie sound romantic. It's so silly. Typically the authors are single american girls just waiting for their night in shining armor as they bake decadent desserts and sew Pride and Prejudice dresses. Of course they love Jane Austin and speak as though they wish they were british. It really cracks me up to be honest. But I must admit, I do go to these blogs sometimes with the lovely music in the background and come away feeling a bit romanticized myself. So, maybe I will just embrace it for a second and pretend I have a fairytale life? This could be fun.

So, I wake up every morning early with my hubby and make him lunch. No, wait, that doesn't sound right.

Let's try again.


There we go, much better. So, that there picture represents me. My one year old daughter really feels that big lately. But I don't have such good posture. Oh wait, wasn't I supposed to be writing all romanticly?

A routine is a lovely thing for a mother to have. It makes the honorable workload she carries much lighter. The mother's hour to be had between six and seven in the morning leaves her refreshed and happy all day. This is the time when she reads, writes in her journal and sips herbal tea from a delightful china teacup which she found at a thrift store recently for only fifteen cents. When the lovely hour is over, she makes a scrumptious and nutritious breakfast for her darlings. Just as she pulls the breakfast casserole out of the oven, her babes come scampering into the kitchen and are greeted by a happy smile from their refreshed and cheerful mother.

Oh man, this is really difficult to write.

In real life, this is how my mornings go, and in real life they are lovely, I am living my dream, and there is nothing more I could ask for (but i don't have to write it all mushy).

Sometime between 2 and 5 am I hear a little one cry on her mattress next to my bed. I reach down and try to comfort her. It doesn't work. I jump out of bed and turn on the closet light, pick up the (huge) one year old and dig around in her blankets.Then I pick up the blankets and shake them. I finally hear it, that familiar sound, and exactly what I wanted to hear. A pacifier falling onto the bed. I grab it, stick it in her mouth and carefully lay her back in her bed. Then I crawl back into mine, get comfy and wait for the next familiar sound, an alarm clock. I doze. Before I know it, my husband is telling me to wake up and can I help him figure out what to wear? I get out of bed slowly. He has already decided what he's wearing and is now doing pushups. How does he have the energy for that? I grab his shirt and stumble into the guest room where I begin to iron. When I'm done, I pull leftovers out of the fridge for his lunch. I'm too tired this morning to make the typical salad I have made most mornings for years. Then I hear my husband yell "not out yet" from the shower, he does that at the half way point when he turns off the shower to conserve water. That means it's time to turn the stove on for the coffee. I don't use a regular plug in coffee maker. I might be a tad bit of a coffee snob. By the time he is done, I am bringing his coffee to him. Then I start on his breakfast, usually grits and fried eggs, this morning it's scrambled eggs with leftovers potatoes and onions. As he continues to get ready for the day, I put his lunch and keys on the bar, his wallet and badge thingy on the dresser, and clean his glasses. At the last minute, I refill his coffee and microwave it for 45 seconds, carry it to the door, we hug and kiss and say "have a good day". The last step to our morning together is waving as he drives away. He rolls down his window and yells "I love you" and we blow eachother kisses. Hmm, I wonder if the neighbors hear us? Now it's 7am and I'm tired. I drink coffee out of my favorite starbuck's mug (back when they made pretty ones) even though I know it's not good for me and sometimes fall back to sleep. This morning I turned on the washer and wrote all this.

You know, it's all pretty nice, maybe even a little romantic. :) 

Even if i feel a little bit more like this....


than this:

And then a kid woke up because he wet the bed. And he wants breakfast. Now.

So I'm off to make oatmeal! Have a lovely day all you romantic and unromantic ladies alike!