How I Threw Out 30 Bags of Stuff and Started Loving My House

So like two years ago I started a post on decluttering that I never finished. Because I never decluttered. This is what I wrote: 

I have a clutter problem.
I think it stems from three main sources.
1) I like shop when I have nothing in particular in mind that I need - just to browse around and look at things and imagine them in my house. Most of the time I'm pretty good at not buying them, but every once in awhile, I buy something even when I have no idea where I will put it. And then it has to go somewhere.
2) I have a problem throwing things out - particularly things that have been given to me by someone - so I hang onto it and it takes up space in the open or takes up storage space in one of the many, many boxes I have stored at my parents' house.
3) When faced with a pile of clutter of any sort, even when that clutter is a pile of mail, I have a paralyzing mental block and I just stare at it and push it aside into a tidier pile instead of, you know, doing something about it.
I have some friends who have the most glorious, clutter-free houses. I have a mom who has a house with lots of knick-knacky stuff in it, but stuff that stays relatively organized so the effect is cozy and inviting rather than stifling. Somehow, I have managed to fail to achieve either of these ends of the spectrum.
This cannot continue.

I thought it was a really good beginning of a post, but alas, because of the above problems, I didn't ever finish it because I had NO IDEA what to do about it.

Then a few weeks ago I saw The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo in a friend's Instagram feed and I really wanted to read it. So naturally I bought it for my husband for Easter. (He is always pushing for less stuff, so he wasn't sad about it - and I think he was excited that I was ready to undergo a major project of this sort.)

The KonMari method has a couple of major points that really worked for me. 1) You have to go through all of your stuff and throw a lot of it away before you reorganize it. If you just keep reorganizing all of your stuff, it's always going to be a mess again soon. 2) You decide whether you want to keep things or not with one simple question, and that question is not, "Have I used this in a year?" or "Does this still work?" That question is, "Does this item bring me joy?"

I don't know why this worked so much better for me than anything else I'd ever tried to do, but I suddenly felt released from all of the stuff that for some reason I felt obligated to keep because it was still good or I might use it sometime or it seemed like a waste to junk it. "Does it give me joy?" made me go, "Nope. Toss it," to a lot of stuff that was filling up my little apartment. So each night we've been choosing a category and going through things and sending garbage bags filled with stuff we just didn't like that much to the donation pile or the garbage.

You guys. Why was I hanging onto some of that junk? I had shoes I hadn't worn in years that had cracked soles. I had stacks of notes from college and text books sitting on my shelf that I haven't looked at in 7 years except to pack them to haul them from one place to the next. I had kitchen appliances that I had used maybe once since we got married taking up huge amounts of space in my pantry. I threw away probably 20 pairs of cheap earrings from Claire's I'd had since Junior High when I got my ears pierced. It. Was. Ridiculous.

Here's the amazing thing about throwing stuff out. Suddenly you realize that it is not your room's fault that you don't like it. It's YOURS for filling it with a comforter you don't terribly love, cheap tv stands standing in as night stands, all the pictures you didn't feel like putting in the living room where people will see them, and two bookcases full of books you don't care about. In one night we donated an entire bookcase full of books, got a headboard with shelf space so we could junk the ugly space-sucking night stands, donated the bedding set that we picked when we got married because my husband was talking about how everything at Bed Bath and Beyond was too girly (I realized after about a year that I didn't love it, but it was a nice compromise until it started pilling) and replaced it with one that we both love, etc. We tossed out two-thirds of the contents of our closet so it became a beautiful and easily organized space, and now it's my favorite room.

This is my new favorite spot. The baby is a nice bonus.

Suddenly I don't just buy stuff because it's cheap and fills the need. I wait a little longer and pay a few dollars more and get something I really love.  I don't need more stuff. A few things that give me joy are so much better for me than a bunch of stuff that makes me feel blah. Because yes, stuff doesn't really bring you joy in the deep spiritual sense, but your things should give you some pleasure - otherwise why have them? A clean, organized space is bringing me SO much more joy than all of that stuff I've thrown out. I don't even remember what half of it was already.

Sleep it off

Amy Poehler's new memoir Yes, Please is full of fantastic advice. One piece of advice that especially resonated with me, a sleep deprived mother of an infant:

"One good night's sleep can help you realize that you shouldn't break up with someone, or you are being too hard on your friend, or you actually will win the race or the game or get the job. Sleep helps you win at life. "

It's true, though. I'll never forget the first few weeks of Samuel's life. Newborns are exhausting, but a newborn plus a three year old, plus a five year old? I was beyond exhausted. I was destroyed. My dear friend Cori and her husband called one morning when Sam was about three weeks old and asked if they could take the girls for the morning. My mom was gone, my husband was back at work, and I'd been the sole caregiver for the majority of the days for nearly a week and I don't even know how I was functioning at that point other than divine help. 

I quickly took them up on their offer and as soon as they picked up the girls I went to my bed, laid Sam on my chest (because that was the only way HE would sleep), and fell asleep. I want to say I slept for eight hours straight but that would be a lie. It was more like three hours. And then I folded some laundry. But it FELT like eight hours. It was exactly what my body needed. 

In fact, that moment was the turning point for me. I woke up from that nap thinking, "I can totally do this. I can totally do three kids!" From then on, I was able to conquer many situations that had previously brought me to my knees. 

I'm looking forward to paying Cori back in a couple months when she has her third baby. 

If you are anything like me, sleep can be the best friend that you take for granted at night, and then can't let go of in the morning. My kids are early risers, and I like to take advantage of my "me time" in the evenings. I need to stop watching so much Netflix and start enjoying more recreational sleep time. 

The Mayo Clinic has seven suggestions for getting better sleep:

1) Stick to a schedule
2) Pay attention to what you eat and drink
3) Create a bedtime ritual
4) Get comfortable
5) Limit daytime naps
6) Include physical activity in your daily routine
7) Manage stress

So if you are ever facing a mountain that needs climbing just tell yourself everything is going to be alright. 
Cause a players gonna play, play, play, play, play and the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, and Taylor's gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake.

But you're going to sleep. Sleep it off. 

Teaching Kindness

Remember that time when I wrote about how my husband and I went to San Francisco and our rental car got broken into and it was okay because we sat and thought about things to be grateful for?

Well. Apparently we should never go on vacation. I've decided when we go on vacation we either have to have vomiting kids or car trouble of some sort, because or last few vacations have gone as follows: San Diego - clutch goes out on the car on Christmas Eve; Texas - CB gets carsick in the middle of the night and vomits all over twice; San Francisco - the aforementioned car getting broken into; Tucson - CB gets some kind of horrible stomach bug and starts throwing up right as we pull up to a hotel and then throws up all night; Texas again - parts go shooting out of our engine 3 hours from our destination and our car is totally trashed.

This last one was extra special because we'd only just bought the car about six months before, we had two kids in the car, and it was the beginning of our vacation after a year of not seeing my husband's mom. We'd decided to stop for the night just three hours out because we didn't see any point in driving until 4 am, and about two miles down the road the next morning we heard a horrible knocking that rapidly turned into a loud clang and smoke.

I could write another list about all of the things I thought of to be grateful for this time around, because I was shockingly calm about the whole thing and noticed lots of reasons that we were really lucky. (My husband had a harder time getting to that point, since he'd done a TON of research before he bought the car and felt pretty mad about it going out on us, but he got there eventually.) However, what really stuck out to me was how kind people were. At least 5 cars stopped in the hour we were sitting on the side of the road on a highway that wasn't all that busy. Some of them just slowed down to ask if we needed water or snacks until the tow truck came. Some told us they would pray for us. Some offered rides and advice. One family on their way to a funeral stopped and asked if we needed anything, then CAME BACK a few minutes later because they'd noticed there was a truck stop just over the hill and thought it would be a better place to wait with two babies. They totally rearranged everything in their truck to cram us and our car seats and our essentials in, and it was so much better to wait near a bathroom in the truck stop restaurant eating spaghetti and chicken strips and coloring than it would have been to wait by the side of the road for 3 hours for my brother in law to come and get us. (And, by the way, my incredibly kind brother-in-law ended up driving 7 hours for us that day, which I'm sure is not how he was hoping to spend his Saturday.)

When we got back from Texas, my two and a half year old had a few days where she was just royally grumpy and trying, (and this after a week of mixed interactions with her cousins, some wonderful and lovely, some of which resulted in hitting and crying in pursuit of possession of the coolest toys at Grancy's house). She was having potty accidents and wasn't listening and wasn't being very nice (a friend of mine calls it re-entry sickness - that craziness kids get adjusting to normal life after vacation), and I was just at my wit's end. Her favorite thing in the whole world right now is dressing up in princess dresses, and suddenly in the middle of another uncharacteristic fit I had an inspiration. "You know sweetie, princesses are always kind and nice. If you aren't kind, I don't think you can be a princess. It's fun to dress up, but it's more important to be kind and nice to people."

This totally struck a chord with her, and over the two months that we've been home from Texas. I have occasionally taken princess dress privileges away for periods of time until she can show me that she's being kind. My husband and I talk to her about being "nice and kind" daily. Sometimes hourly. As with most things, it seems to be getting easier for her with practice. She routinely points out unkind behavior to me when she sees it in a movie or at the playground and says things like, "[Blank] is being mean! That's not very good!" When I point out to her that her behavior isn't kind she is quick to tell me, "But I am nice and kind!" and then we talk about what we can do that would be better - what would be kinder. I make a big deal about it when she shares with her little sister without being asked, when she shows she is thinking about other people, when she thanks me for the yummy dinner even though she hasn't actually tried it yet and might not.

It's easy to think about yourself. It's especially easy for a preschooler to only think about herself, because her brain just hasn't developed all the way yet and she just hasn't developed that much empathy yet, and it's easy to just ignore children's inability to be kind and assume that they'll just grow out of it - which I suppose to some extent they probably will. But the more I talk to my daughter about kindness, the more I realize that how important it is, and how effective it is even though I know some things will come better with age. She talks better and better each day. She's starting to recognize letters. She's getting stronger and more agile and more beautiful every day. But the thing that matters most to me is that she's also getting better at being kind. I can see a difference already, and she has so much time to learn to be really kind and wonderful. Maybe someday she'll be the one stopping to help someone broken down by the side of the road, reminding them that even though things are bad right now, it will be okay - because people are kind. 

In My Own Little Corner

When I was a little girl one of my favorite movies was Rogers and Hammerstein's Cinerella. The Lesley Ann Warren version, not the Brandy version (which was wonderful, but as a small child I was confused that a white king and a black queen sired an Asian son).

My favorite scene wasn't Cinderella's transformation, or the ball, or the happily ever after ending. No, I loved the scene where Cinderella, sad and dressed in rags, sang about her special corner in her home where no matter what else was going on, she could retreat to and find peace and happiness in her imagination.

Here is the clip if you aren't familiar. Go ahead and watch. I'll wait.

Wasn't it magnificent?

Guess what? Twenty years later, I too have my own little corner. Like Cinderella, I spend my days waiting on my families every need, cleaning the house, and other various homemaking tasks. Unlike Cinderella, I'm not mistreated and I don't mind it so much. The work of a mother is hard and often thankless, but I love my family and I'm happy to do it.

Every evening I retreat to my own little corner. It is actually the corner of my son's room. The lights go out and I lay my tired baby across my body and rock him to sleep while I nurse. Down the hall I can hear my husband reading stories to my daughters, or saying prayers with them. I can see into the hallway to my bookshelves.

Sometimes I'll think about the books I've been reading and how they live in my mind and change my heart. Sometimes I reflect on the day and all the things I've accomplished. It's a place where I take pride in the laundry that was folded, the meals that were prepared, the restraint I showed when my three-year-old drew on the walls, or the pride I felt to hear my five-year-old read books by herself.

I don't know why but for some reason that corner is my sacred sanctuary. I'm removed from the work, and I get to sit and enjoy the fruits of my labors. The best part about that corner, is the time I get with my sleeping son. The weight of his body, the smell of his skin...it is pure bliss. I think about all my babies, and how they slept in that room and how I rocked them to sleep. I think about a baby or babies who are waiting to come into our family someday, maybe.

I never think about the mistakes I made or the tasks I didn't get to. I never worry about the next day or the next week. I don't know why it is. I don't know why that spot in the house provides so much peace, but I love it. I almost always tear up when I'm sitting there, my heart too full with gratitude.

I hope that when I leave this stage of life where I'm rocking my babies to sleep I can find an equally peaceful and satisfying sanctuary. I worry I won't.

Do you have a little corner?

Luscious Locks: A New Mother's Irrational Views

The other day I read a blog post (that I can't find the link to, sorry) about a new mother's set of instructions for her babysitter, it was six pages long and ridiculous and neurotic and could have been written by me word for word at any time during Cooper's first year of life. It got me to thinking about all of the times that first time motherhood robbed me of all logic and reason.

Cooper took about two years to get any hair. One day my mom and I had a conversation about it-
Me: I can't believe it took Cooper two years to grow any hair!
Mom: Oh you thought he had hair like a year and a half ago. What did you used to call it?
Me: I did not!
Mom: Yes you did. Oh yeah, you called it his luscious locks.

Luscious locks you guys. And I was deadly serious.

I used to be EXTREMELY concerned with Cooper's sleep schedule. One time I started crying because I felt guilty that Josh and I had gone to see a movie at 8 p.m. and left Cooper with my mom and I was upset I had ruined Cooper's bedtime. Did I mention Cooper was like three months old and didn't really have a bedtime?

Or the time my mom offered to keep newborn Cooper for the night so Josh and I could sleep and I asked her not to make eye contact with him. I was very concerned with day and night confusion and had read some dumb thing somewhere about how babies take eye contact as a sign of daytime. Apparently I used to feed Cooper with my eyes closed...

When we moved to Washington my mom kept Cooper for three days while we drove our stuff here and unpacked. Every day I would call eight month old Cooper on the phone, not my mom, I would call to talk to Cooper. Multiple times a day. During which I would sob and tell him how much mommy loved him and not to worry we would be back together soon while Cooper sat and pushed buttons on the phone oblivious to the fact that he was talking to his mom because, you know, eight month olds can't conduct phone conversations.

Hypochondria also took advantage of my diminished reasoning skills during this time. Cooper was six months old before I went a whole month without taking him into the pediatrician. I don't remember all the diseases I thought he had but some of them were: a lazy eye (When he was a newborn no less. Don't all newborns have lazy eyes? Anyway I had the pediatrician write me a referral to see an opthamologist), asthma (I still kind of think he has asthma), scarlet fever, carbon monoxide poisoning, lead poisoning, measles, dehydration (this one included an ER trip where the ER doctor just stared at my happy, laughing baby and said, "nope."), botulism, every allergy there is, every developmental delay there is...

Also I tried to tell the pediatrician that my two month old was getting his bottom teeth. Spoiler alert: he was not.

The videos! Cooper recently found the videos on the iPhone and has been watching them when I realized that I took videos of the most mundane things! Like ten minute videos of him sleeping or a video of me reading a book to him, he not even doing anything, he's just sitting and listening to the book. Worse still, I emailed these boring videos to everyone I knew and expected everyone to be excited about them.

The hundreds of times I refused to go somewhere because Cooper was sleeping, or about to sleep, or there was the possibility of sleep on the horizon.

The time I tried to sign my one year old up for preschool.

When eating an egg gave Cooper a small rash one time and then I told everyone he was allergic to eggs and got mad at my mom for giving him a bite of a sandwich that had a minuscule amount of mayo on it and then I tried to take him to an allergist to get stuck with a million needles because I thought he had severe, life threatening food allergies.

I used to refuse to change lanes when Cooper fell asleep in the car for fear that crossing those raised bumps on the road would wake him up.

Wow. I was a mess.

Gurl got SKILLZ

You'll have to excuse the title of this post. I feel like I have to counteract the geriatric nature of what I'm about to write with bad grammar and hooligan-eese.

I learned a new skill.

I've written before about the death of my grandmother late last summer, and how it broke my heart and colored my world. One of my grandma's favorite things was blankies. She wrote a blog post back in 2009 about the quilts she made each of her grandchildren. She also knitted a blankie for each of her great-grandchildren. I believe she knit seventeen in all before she passed away.  

Hannah with her blankie in 2009

Paige with her blankie in 2011

Samuel with his blankie in 2014. Granma started making Samuel's blanket before I became pregnant with him, and she kept saying, "I have a blue blankie with your name on it." she knew how badly I hoped for a son, and I think that blankie became a good luck charm. 

My brother and his wife announced her pregnancy two weeks before Granma passed away. The blankies were so precious to me, that one of my first thoughts after they announced was that their child wasn't going to be given the amazingly beautiful and precious gift. I knew that somehow I needed to learn how to knit. I would continue the tradition that she started with my own nieces and nephews.

The first thing you have to know about this project is: I don't have a crafty bone in my body. I hate/loathe/despise/abominate projects. In fact, projects is a dirty word to me. It's not in my nature, it's not anything I ever desired to learn. But I felt strongly that Granma wanted it. 

The problem was: how do I learn how to knit? There are various YouTube tutorials, and WikiHow articles, but nobody to answer the questions I had like: "Yeah, but how do I ACTUALLY do this?"

Enter: Sara.

I turned to Facebook to see if I had any talented friends who knew how to knit and would be willing to teach me. I discovered that a girl that I sort of knew in my area was extremely talented and very willing to be patient and teach me. I found a pattern that looked doable, and she told me the brand of yarn, size of the needles, and a various other materials.

Sara selflessly came to my house in two two-hour sessions one week. She taught me how to cast on, knit, purl, read a pattern, fix mistakes, and work patiently. The time passed quickly and pleasantly. As I cast the yarn onto my needles tears stung my eyes as I thought about Granma. I regretted that I hadn't asked her to teach me while she was alive. Somehow I knew she was with me, and she was pleased with the way I was trying to honor her.

For the next two months I spent every night working meticulously on a blanket for baby Jack. My hands became sore and tired, but got stronger as I persisted. It took me approximately three hundred hours, (or seven seasons of Gilmore Girls, several movies, and a season of BBC's Broadhurst...seriously, this blanket has been brought to you by grief, sentiment, and Netflix) the blanket was finally complete. Sara came over once more to teach me how to bind off and weave in the loose strands. I.was.done.

I loved creating this gift. I loved learning a new skill, I throughly enjoyed knitting and I look forward to the next  blankie for a new baby. I thought about my first nephew, imagined him wrapped up inside the soft folds, and fell in love with the boy I haven't met yet. The best part about the whole process was gaining a deeper appreciation of the beautiful baby blankets from my grandma. I felt her love and presence so acutely. I know she is watching over me. That she is proud of me. I couldn't have done it without her.

I asked my Sam to give it a test drive to make sure it wouldn't disintegrate upon use.  

Baby Jack Timothy Marsden wrapped in his auntie's love

Five Things to Do After Work

I should really remove Apartment Therapy from my RSS subscriptions, but I haven’t yet, so I keep getting sucked in. Recently they posted their 5 things to do as soon as you are done with work for a happier evening.

They elaborate further, but essentially, their 5 things are:

1. Put things where they belong 
2. Check in, connect and center
3. Cook an easy-to-make meal 
4. Spend a little time on a hobby, habit or goal
5. Prep for the next day

While their points are perfectly fine, they don't necessarily reflect your average person just coming off of a day's work, so I drafted my own list.

Here are my 5 things to do when you get home from work (in order of importance, mostly...):

1. Take off your work pants and put on sweatpants. This is definitely #1. No question. Switching from "school clothes" to "play clothes" means you can handle whatever happens to come up (and in comfort!): cooking, cleaning, sitting around and watching Hulu... Anything.

2. Breathe. You just finished a day at work where you challenged yourself, did something new, and helped people (directly or indirectly). Even if you have to do this in the car before you head inside, just breathe. You’ve already accomplished something today. Whatever else happens or does (or does not) get done, you’ve got that -- now, take a breath and go put on your sweatpants already!

(You get your choice: Faith Hill, Pearl Jam, or Michelle Branch...)

3. Check your mailbox (not your email, but your realmail). Because sometimes there is real mail. Mail from someone you care about to tell you they are thinking of you. It’s worth checking if only for that reason. (Oh, and recycle that junk mail right away. Ugh, junk mail is the worst.)

4. Eat some sort of food at a reasonable hour as a meal if you are hungry. Does it have to be exquisite? No. does it have to be healthy? Not necessarily. Does it have to be a "real meal?" Not unless you want it to be. Do you have to like it? No, but that usually helps.

5. Think about someone else. This could be someone you live with (your partner, child/children, roommate); this could be someone in your family; this could be a colleague; this could be a friend you’ve not seen for a year; it could be someone you’ve only met once. Think of them, because when you’re thinking of others, that’s when true inspiration and good comes about. You could think of ways to help someone, think of something they might be interested in, something that makes them smile, something that brings them comfort. Even if you just think of one other person during your “down time,” that’s more than a lot of other people do their entire day. And thinking often turns to action, and that’s a good thing too.

Why I Love MasterChef Junior

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Not often do I find myself completely enamored with a television show, but here I am, writing about how I’ve fallen head over heals for MasterChef Junior.

MasterChef Junior is a reality show where children (ranging in ages from 8-12) cook for world-renown, professional chefs (including celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay). Now, before you roll your eyes at the words “reality show” or say “not another cooking show,” hear me out -- this isn’t another cutthroat competition show where you watch it and feel disgusting after, and it’s not another Saturday morning cooking show where the same dish seems to be made over and over. This is, when it comes down to it, a show about kids with strong character, kindness, heart, positivity, and a lot of determination.

Reasons why I love this show:

• I can watch it and forget completely about the negative news, things on my to-do list, the ice dam on my roof causing my living room carpet to be soggy. I mean everything. I find myself sitting there, rooting for every child to do well, heart swelling for those kids as they triumph over the challenging dishes they’re tasked to make. 
• These kids have such great character! They are encouraging, positive, realistic (with their own cooking triumphs and struggles), and so helpful! They go out of the way to help their competitors, and they do it with such kindness. When their competitors are eliminated, genuine hugs and encouragement are given. I want to live in a world this kind all of the time. 
• Those kids are remarkable! They’re doing amazing things with French or Japanese or other advanced cooking techniques (thinks I’ve never heard of), and they have to use step stools just to see over the counter.
• British accents are wonderful -- Don’t let anyone tell you any different. (This one is definitely a minor detail, but still adds to the enjoyment of the show.) 
• The chef-judges have such high expectations for their young chefs (and the young chefs know it and definitely give their all for them), but they don’t let that get in the way of them making real connections with the kids, being silly, being encouraging, and showing their protégés respect. You can see how proud the judges are of the kids and their accomplishments, and how hard the elimination process is for them.

Watching this show is like getting an hour-long hug. The kids are extraordinary, the judges are firm, but kind and encouraging, and the result is such a positive experience for the audience (and I would imagine everyone involved with the show as well). If you happen to find yourself with an extra hour or just want to bring some positivity into your home, I recommend turning on MasterChef Junior.

(This is just my own personal option regarding this show. We've not been compensated or rewarded in any way for this blog post, other than the warm-fuzzies I get simply by watching this lovely show.)

Top Tunes to Show Your Love

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Whether it is spent snuggling with a romantic partner, spent with family, or celebrated with a special child, here are some tunes for your Valentine's Day playlist to show your love to those around you!

Cara

My list is divided into 3 categories (since choosing music for me is much like eating potato chips: once I start, I just can't stop...):

Swoony and Sappy:

• Misty - Ella Fitzgerald: As you can hear in the video above, no one does love quite like Ms. Fitzgerald. My favorite version of her singing this is on Verve's Compact Jazz: Ella Fitzgerald album. 
• I can't help falling in love - Elivs Presley 
• How I will say I love you - Tony DeSare: It has beautiful, simple lines underneath a sweet melody - even if the lyrics are a little stalker-ish

Sweet and Sad:

• I will follow you into the dark - Death Cab for Cutie
• They're in love, Where am I? - The Weepies
• When you go away - The Weepies

Cheery, Bright, and Hopeful:

• All will be well - Gabe Dixon Band
• I was made for sunny days - The Weepies
• Keep on the sunny side - The Whites - O Brother Where Art Thou
• If There Was No You - Brandi Carlisle: A simple, sweet, and supportive tune.

Melissa 

In February 2003 I discovered and subsequently fell in love with Josh Groban while going through a very intense breakup. Subsequently, every Valentine's Day I go through a Josh Groban kick. His song When you say you love me makes me feel like a heartbroken seventeen-year-old. Also, if you haven't listened to Mindy Gledhill's album Anchor you need to remedy that immediately. The entire album makes for a whimsical Valentine's playlist, but her song All the pennies reminds me of being a dirt poor newlywed with nothing but love.  Finally, it may be cheesy and slightly cliche and ridiculous, but ever since I was a little girl I thought the most romantic song in the world was a toss up between Lady in Red by Chris De Burgh and Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton. Hey, it was the 80s.

Lindsey

I have been listening to songs with this post in mind trying to pick the perfect ones.  Something beautiful and romantic.  But I'm just not feeling it.  So a lot of my songs are more toward the sad and sweet side, but still beautiful.  

• Sad Songs and Waltzes - Cake
• Possibly my favorite Cake song (if I HAD to choose just one). 
• Rambling Through the Avenues of Time - Flight of the Conchords
• On the lighter side of things with a twist at the end.  Brett is telling Jemaine about a girl he met while walking around New York City while Jemaine is trying to watch TV.
• I've Just Seen a Face - Jim Sturgess - Across the Universe
• Originally a Beatles song, but this cover is upbeat and happy and I love it.
• You Could be Happy - Snow Patrol
• This is a post break-up tune. It'll help with the necessary post break-up wallowing.
• Question - Old 97's
• Really just a super sweet and catchy proposal song.
• The Ballad of Love and Hate - The Avett Brothers 
• Just a wonderful song.  My favorite line comes in at the end "He says, "Love, I'm sorry," and she says, "What for? I'm yours and that's it, whatever. I should not have been gone for so long. I'm yours and that's it, forever.  You're mine and that's it, forever." 
• Another runner up from The Avett Brothers that is worth a listen is I and Love and You.  They'd pair nicely on a mixtape.

Lis

Martha Reeves and The Vandellas - It's Easy to Fall in Love With a Guy Like You. It's an older song that reminds me of falling in love with my husband.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNMR46BPems

Jill

There are so many love songs out there in the world, but because my husband and I have vastly different tastes in music, very few of them have the emotional impact on me that I thought they would have by the time I got married. It actually hasn't caused too many problems in our life so far (other than there being no hope of us ever going to a live concert together because there is no artist or group that we would both be willing to spend 60 bucks on), but when we were planning our wedding we hit a major speed bump when we tried to pick "our song" to dance to. We love dancing with each other and I usually just ignore the fact that I don't like country music so that we can go out country dancing and have a grand night out. For our wedding, however, we wanted something that was special to both of us. We almost didn't make it, but at the 12th hour we stumbled on OneRepublic's "All This Time" and we were saved. We had both waded through the dating pool for quite some time before we found each other, so singing the words "all this time we were waiting for each other/ all this time I was waiting for you" while we danced on our wedding day created more than the perfect moment for us.

Stories to Make Your Heart Swell

I can't be the only romantic (though I'm sometimes stubborn about it) whose heart swells when listening to the stories of those who have been in love for such a long time, can I?

These are lovely:

(Disclaimer: I know it's a commercial for life insurance, but it's just so charming. We have no affiliation with this company; I was just drawn in by their effective marketing and lovely interview subjects.)

Don't Worry That It's Not Good Enough

I've always really liked to sing. I don't care for singing solos (I get nervous and I don't feel like my voice is that strong by itself) but when I discovered choirs in high school after a few voice lessons, I really, really loved singing for people. I sang through high school and three years of college and in a few church choirs, and I always found it really fulfilling. I'm not the greatest singer in the world, but singing makes me happy.

Lately though, I don't have too many opportunities to perform, and my skills are probably decreasing. With a new baby in the house it's hard to get motivated to join the church choir when I could be napping on Sunday afternoon, and anything else seems like a lot to coordinate right now. My husband works some nights, getting babysitters stresses me out, you know the drill. I get my singing kicks by singing to my babies. 

When CB was a baby, I sang everything to her. Old choir songs I remembered, Broadway show tunes, hymns, songs from Sesame Street or the Muppets, stuff by the Beatles or Simon and Garfunkle - anything I knew all of the words to was fair game, and sometimes I stayed in her room rocking her longer than was strictly necessary just because I enjoyed singing to someone who didn't make me feel self-conscious. 

Now CB is two and a half, and she has opinions about what we should sing. I sing the ABCs about 15 times a day, "Once Upon a Dream" about a dozen, and "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" makes an appearance at most bedtimes. I still get to sing whatever I want to little sister when I get my rare one on one time with her, but for the last month or so I've stopped minding singing what CB wants to sing - because now she sings it with me. 

If you want to experience something joyful, it's seeing your child enjoy something that you love and ask you to do it with her. Although sometimes she wants to sing alone (and she tells me - "No Mommy, you not singing!") sometimes she demands that I sing along. It doesn't matter where we are or who else is around either. If it's time to sing "Sleeping 'Boo-ty,'" it's time.

Better still, when little sis is upset, we ask CB to sing to her to help her calm down. At first this was just a tactic to help her stay calm, but crazily enough, 85% of the time it actually seems to do the trick. And if you ask CB what Miss D's favorite song is, she'll tell you the ABCs, and her favorite singer, of course, is her big sister. I'm not sure there's any feeling that is sweeter than watching my baby look at my toddler with a look of pure delight, when seconds before she was sobbing, and watching my toddler singing at the top of her lungs to make her baby sister happy, no matter who is around. Her sweet little voice cracks, she mixes up words, (my current favorite is, "You'll love me at once, the way did you once upon a D-WEAM!"), and if I tell her it will help her sister, she never, ever hesitates to start belting it out. 

I really love Sesame Street, and I've heard their "Sing a Song" about 40,000 times, but I especially love this part:

Sing, sing a song
Keep it simple, to last your whole life long

Don't worry that it's not good enough

For anyone else to hear

Just sing, sing a song. 

I don't think I sing well enough for EVERYONE else to hear, but singing to my daughters makes all of us happy, and I'm glad that, for now at least (until I'm SO EMBARRASSING MOM STOP) it's good enough for them. 

Reinvented Childhood Bookshelf in Just 62* Easy Steps

Completed project... for now... 

I’ve been following the (often overwhelming) posts on Apartment Therapy. Every once in a while I get the bug to turn my dreary, piecemeal apartment into something fashionable and sleek (and then I remember that I have no budget -- who has the money to spend $1,000 on on a plastic chair?). But, rather than get overwhelmed by actually doing something productive (like cleaning larger spaces like, oh, I don’t know, my living room or kitchen or bathroom), I dig into a task that isn’t very high on the “need to do” checklist, because, you know, priorities. I had this old bookshelf that I’ve had since I was probably 5 (particle board, nothing fancy). It’s white laminate with stains from old candles I got for a long-ago birthday, and I’ve been using it as kind of a catch-all (imagine junk drawer, but with more dust). I kept old electric bass amp cables, an old set of double bass strings, my old digital camera, bibs and participant medals from every 5K, 10K, and Half Marathon I’ve ever run, bobby pins, old photo frames no longer used, tags I’ve removed from new clothes just before heading out the door wearing said new clothes… You get the idea. Recently I’ve been acquiring more cold weather clothing: Cuddl Duds, long-sleeve t-shirts, layers upon layers upon layers. I wanted to find a way to store these new layers, along with the sweaters that can’t/shouldn’t be hung up and so, with a little obsessive internet browsing, I came up with the idea for my repurposed (budget-friendly) bookshelf. Here are the steps I took (should you try this project, your steps may be different):

1. Stare at my dusty old bookshelf for approximately 4 years.
2. Allow it to accumulate clutter beyond my wildest imaginings.
3. Ignore the dust bunnies (that seem to multiply at a faster rate than real bunnies) for the last 8 months. (If you don’t touch it, it’s not airborne, right?)
4. Start obsessively reading Apartment Therapy, dreaming of a sleek, clutter-free home.
5. Realize that isn’t going to happen any time soon.
6. Stare at the sweaters draped across my drying rack.
7. Realize that I rarely actually put them “away,” and instead just wear the same ones over and over directly from the drying rack.
8. Go through my closet and realize I actually do have a decent selection of cozy clothes to keep me warm.
9. Resolve to do better.
10. Stare at my dusty old bookshelf some more.
11. Go online and browse Target.
12. Spot these awesome baskets that are more expensive than I need, but they’re so pretty.
13. Order these baskets, and also some more practical ones that do the exact same thing, but for less money.
14. Wait for baskets to arrive in the mail.
15. Open magic box from Target -- Huzzah! Baskets!
16. Immediately gravitate to the awesome design baskets and see how my folded sweaters would fit in them.
17. Continue to stare at my dusty old bookshelf and take no steps to actually start cleaning it off.
18. Admire my neatly folded sweaters in one of the fancy baskets I ordered.
19. Calculate just what the shelf height should be to accommodate the fancy baskets. Realize it’s the same height as the non-fancy baskets.
20. Finally open the non-fancy baskets, because I feel guilty non opening them, just to see how they’d look.
21. Stare at the two baskets for a little while. Finally decide to splurge a little and go with the slightly-fancier plastic basket for the project.
22. Decide I won’t really have a good idea of how the project would look unless I actually make an effort to clean off the bookshelf already…
23. Sit down and watch Hulu for 2 hours (because Miranda is hilarious).
24. Eat some supper, because it’s that time already.
25. Wash the dishes.
26. Glance at the bookshelf to see if it is still dusty and ugly, or if my project has magically completed itself. It hasn’t.
27. Sit down on the floor in front of the bookshelf to get started.
28. Realize I forgot all dusting materials under the kitchen sink.
29. Get back up and fetch everything I could ever possibly need to tackle such a massive amount of dust.
30. Begin the dusting process.
31. Shove found bobby pins in random places in my ponytail (to be found later, while getting ready for bed).
32. File away old race bibs and medals, dusting each individually (not because they’re precious, but because they are that dusty).
33. Shove old picture frames aside to be dusted at the end.
34. Try to remember which electric bass cords actually still work. Give up and shove them in a corner with my instruments, to figure it out later.
35. Dust each shelf thoroughly, and then remove the shelves and dust them again (because, somehow they’re still dusty).
36. Move the bookshelf and realize I hadn’t vacuumed behind it since I moved in. Use all the vacuum tools/attachments to get in the nooks and crannies and corners of the carpet and the bookshelf itself.
37. Take a sneeze break.
38. Look at the bookshelf and question whether it’s even worth trying to do anything with it.
39. Walk away for a while.
40. Come back, looking at the floor with bookshelf clutter exploded all around. Decide I do actually want to be able to walk through my hallway without tripping over clutter. Resolve to complete this stupid project.
41. Look at the peel and stick wallpaper thing I found at Target. Consider covering the back panel and top (to cover up the stains from the candle from many birthdays ago).
42. Decide against the wallpaper (too much work and too expensive for just an old bookshelf) and go with some wrapping paper I have lying around in my closet.
43. Measure the back panel to figure out just how to cut my wrapping paper -- Carefully cut the wrapping paper.
44. Realize that my angles aren’t 100% square, but it’s for the back of the bookshelf and there will be baskets in it anyway so it doesn’t really matter that it’s not perfect, right?
45. Try to figure out the best way to adhere the wrapping paper… Little rolls of packing tape -- If it’s good enough for the mail and for presents, it’s good enough for me.
46. Stick little rolls of tape around the edges of the inside of the bookshelf.
47. Try to figure out a way to keep the paper from rolling back up while I’m trying to stick it up in the two top corners… Find a couple of bobby pins in my hair and clip them onto the bottom two corners of the wrapping paper. Somehow stick the paper to the tape and pull the rest of it tight and smooth out the paper -- Success!
48. Realize I still have to cut wrapping paper for the top of the bookshelf. Decide to use one long roll of packing tape across the whole front of the top.
49. Get caught in a web of sticky tape.
50. Throw away a lot of tangled tape and start over.
51. Finally succeed in making a roll of tape. Realize I need to measure and cut wrapping paper.
52. Finally get the perfect piece of wrapping paper cut only to have it roll into the already adhered tape...one corner was correct...and one corner curled with the pattern down.
53. Try to get the paper up from the tape without ripping it.
54. Fail at getting the paper up from the tape without ripping it. Tear it violently and curse the wrapping paper gods.
55. Cut another piece of wrapping paper for the top of the bookshelf.
56. Adhere it correctly and smoothly and do a happy dance!
57. Realize I still have to put the shelves back in.
58. Put shelves in, but notice there is a wobbly one because I accidentally put one of the shelf pegs in the wrong hole.
59. Take the shelf out; fix the peg; put the shelf back in.
60. Figure out which of the sweaters (and Cuddl Duds) goes in which baskets and on which shelves.
61. Finish the top of the shelf with pictures (no longer covered in dust).
62. Worry about the sticky tape residue that will inevitably be a problem someday in the future, but decide to ignore it until I get another project bug.

So, that’s it, just 62 easy steps to the perfect, sweater-filled bookshelf. 

Wrapping paper tops it off

Completed back panel

* 63. Realize after taking all of the pictures for this blog post that the middle shelf is still crooked (see completed back panel photo). Take out shelf; fix pegs; return shelf; resolve to not do any more "creative" projects, at least for a little while...

Things I Think to Myself or (who am I kidding) Say Aloud to Myself Because I Live Alone That’s What People Who Live Alone Do

On this list:

• You have got to be kidding me.
• There’s no way that is normal or natural.
• Where’s the thing with the things?
• (Said with disgust) Oh I HATE it when you freeze up!
• There are so many emails and I hate them all.
• I just want to wear sweatpants all day. When will these count as business casual?
• Why am I always cold and why am I too stubborn to turn the heat up? 
• Could you BE driving any slower? (Channeling my inner Chandler Bing.) 
• Is it supposed to be that color? I don’t think it’s supposed to be that color...
• (Very audible sighs and grunts while getting up and down and lifting things, all unnecessary.)  
• Why is my purse so heavy? Oh, pants. Huh. (Pulls pants out of purse--yes, really.)
• These are magic socks. (Yes, socks do have an impact on happiness levels.)
• I could fix a real dinner, or I could snack on these candy canes all evening instead…
  Candy canes it is. 
• Uffda!
• I can’t be the only one who reads mail in the bathroom. 
• What day is it today? (Every day.)

And so many more that just sound normal to me, but I sure no other human would think the same...

What are some things you catch yourself saying without even realizing it?

Pregnancy Texts: Part Two

A sequel to my first pregnancy texts. I think I might have been slightly more rational this time around. But then again maybe not enough time has passed for me to be objective about Pregnant Paige.

Me: Ugh my phone keeps randomly turning itself off, sometimes during phone calls.
Josh: Do you need a new phone? I can order you one on eBay. They're only like 15 bucks.
Me: Nah I'll just stick it out. That's like seven pumpkin cream cheese muffins.
Josh: So you measure currency in pumpkin muffins now, huh?

So I live in a small town and the same few people are always at the gym and in the beginning of my pregnancy when I was just gaining weight but didn't look definably pregnant yet I was convinced they were all judging me-
Me: I just took my jacket off at the gym to hang up and a bunch of cookies fell out the pocket and everyone was staring at me. Now they are judging me for sure.
Josh: Why did you have cookies in your pocket?
Me: To eat as a reward for going to the gym.

Me: So I have a yeast infection on top of everything else pregnancy wise.
Josh: I'm sorry.
Me: Do you even know what a yeast infection is? Google the symptoms so you can feel properly sorry for me.
Josh: Ok googled it.
Me: And?! Are you sorry for me?!
Josh: I'm heartbroken.

Me: Ok meeting is over, I'm on my way home. Good thing too because I'm STARVING!
Josh: Oh I thought they had food there? What do you want me to make you?
Me: Spaghetti. And chex mix. And yes they had food but it was a bunch of women so I had to take a tiny plate of vegetables and pretend that was all I wanted.

Preface: We live out in the country and have a lot of deer in our yard frequently. At least once a day there is the same family of three deer hanging out in our yard. Also my husband works for the city and knows the animal control department and what limited funds they have.
Me: There's no baby deer today. Just the mom and the brother.
Josh: Oh. Poor little guy.
Me: Josh!!! I told you yesterday the baby was limping and you wouldn't let me call anyone and now it's gone!
Josh: I'm sorry you're upset. It's sad. But there's nothing we could have done.
Me: We could have called animal control or a vet or something! I'm going to call right now.
Josh: You're calling animal control? To say what?
Me: That there's a missing deer and I think it might be hurt!
Josh: Paige, the animal control department is only one person. And they don't have the budget to go look for a missing deer that no one knows where it might be.
Me: Yes they can! They might have like heat sensors or thermal imaging or something!
Josh: I'm pretty sure they don't.
Me: Well I'm calling! That's a baby deer that's hurt and alone somewhere!
(After about 30 minutes) Josh: So did you call yet? Is Beverly gassing up the chopper?
Me: Not yet, I need to stop crying first.

This story has a very happy ending though as the next day the baby deer was back! And it no longer has a limp.

Me: I guess I'm not showering today FYI, I can't get my shirt off that I took Cooper to his early morning appointment in. I need you to help me out of it when you get home.
Josh: I'll help you. Maybe you should stick with your maternity clothes from now on.
Me: No. I'm sick of wearing the same things over and over again.
Josh: You could wear my clothes. I have a bunch of basketball shorts that would fit you.
Me: I'll kill you.

I tend to sweat a lot when pregnant, something I guess has not gone unnoticed by my husband.
Josh: I'm going to pick up some milk at the store on the way home. Do you need anything?
Me: Yeah deodorant.
Josh: Just regular kind? You don't need like extra strength or something?

After texting Josh about my various feelings for a while-
Josh: I'm going to buy you a pregnancy journal where you can write down all your feelings.
Me: Ok that sounds nice. But I'm still going to tell them to you too.
Josh: Then what's the point of the journal?

After talking to Josh about a comment made about my diet coke consumption while pregnant (which by the way is well within the caffeine limit for pregnant women)-
Josh: Well why do you care if people know how much Diet Coke you drink?
Me: Because I don't want people thinking I'm a fat slob!
Josh: No baby, they think you're a pregnant slob.

Me: Josh I'm really upset today. I had a very scary dream last night that Cooper (our 2 year old boy) was homeless and alone and wandering the woods and getting chased by wild animals and he looked so tired and hungry and scared! And it was awful! And I can't stop thinking about it, my poor poor Cooper!
(Josh never responds)
Me: Josh! What about homeless Cooper?!
Josh: Oh! I didn't think you needed me to respond to that. Do you? Cooper is asleep in his crib right now. So I'm not sure what the problem is.
Me: You don't get it! You don't even care about homeless Cooper!
Josh: How do you not understand this was just a dream? You were laying down asleep during it!
(I never responded)
Josh: Baby I'm so so sorry about homeless Cooper. I hope he gets away from those wild animals and gets himself into a social program for homeless toddlers.
Me: He couldn't get away from the wild animals, he was trying to run but his shoes were untied and he couldn't figure out how to do up the Velcro.
Josh: :(

Me: I want a salad and a hot dog and Chinese food and cheese breadsticks and a Cinnabon and pizza and doughnuts and a hamburger and rolls and chips.
Josh: Wow! That's quite the list. Well we have soup or a sandwich at home you can have for lunch.
Me: Neither of those were on the list.

Me: Do you want to talk about hot dogs? Because I do.
Josh: Ok what about them?
Me: Everything! Like how they sometimes have roasted onions on top. And sauerkraut! And the smell of the hot dog cart outside of Home
Depot. I love Home Depot hot dog man. And polish dogs. And bratwursts! And the special feeling you get inside when you eat a really good hot dog!
Josh: I think you covered pretty much everything.

Me: Thanks for packing me breakfast. This is quite a large amount of food though. Did you really think I'd eat it all?
Josh: Well whenever I fix you food you look at the portion size and say, "What do you think I am? A baby bird?"

Josh: What do you want for breakfast in bed on your birthday?
Me: Chinese food.
Josh: Um I don't get it.
Me: No that's really what I want.
Josh: Oh! Ok... Well I don't know that any Chinese restaurants are open that early but I guess I can call around and check.

Me: Hey you got me a pumpkin muffin!! How'd you know I wanted one?
Josh: Well last time you ate one it was hard to tell where your face ended and the muffin began. So I assumed you enjoyed it.
Me: We're not friends.

I guess I had been complaining to Josh all day when he responded with this-
Josh: Take your nap baby. I'm sorry everyone is so stupid.

Me: I guess I fell asleep on the couch watching Thomas the Train with Cooper. The weird part was I woke up with a mouthful of food! I think I fell asleep mid-eating. Is that even physically possible?
Josh: Only for the classiest of individuals.

My son and I were out of town visiting family and Josh was home working-
Me: What are all the things you miss about me?
Josh: Snuggling. Getting you food. Seeing you at lunchtime. How mad you get whenever I eat anything. How you always want to watch Gilmore Girls. When you accidentally toot all the time.
Me: Um half of those were terrible things.

I happened to read a very sad book while I was pregnant and ended up crying all night one night while I finished it. I had planned on re-reading the last chapter when I woke up the next morning so I put it on my nightstand but when I woke up the next morning the book was gone and my husband had left for work earlier than usual-
Me: Why'd you leave so early this morning? Have you seen my book anywhere?
Josh: Oh yeah, I got up early to take that book back to the library first thing in the morning.
Me: But I was going to read the end again.
Josh: I know, that's why I took it back before you woke up.

While visiting family alone with my toddler, my little buddy got a horrible stomach bug and was really sick for a whole week. Needless to say I spent a lot of time caring for him and not a lot of time eating so I ended up losing a few pounds that week.
Josh: How'd your doctor appointment go?
Me: Well I was supposed to have gained two pounds since last I saw him and instead I lost three. So he was kind of concerned. He just wants to make sure next visit that I'm gaining weight.
Josh: I have every confidence in you.

Me: So I gained my weight back already, no need to worry.
Josh: In 2 days?!?!
Josh: I mean, that's great baby. Way to go.

Me: I just want to eat a dozen doughnuts and break a bunch of Precious Moments figurines.

Me: If you don't stop eating my special peanut butter I'm going to kill you.
Josh: I'm sorry, I just had one piece of peanut butter toast, I thought it would be ok.
Me: It's not. We have separate peanut butters for a reason.

When Josh had a cold-
Josh: How are you today?
Me: Tired. You kept waking me up coughing last night!
Josh: I'm sorry baby.
Me: Tonight either you're taking NyQuil or you're sleeping on the couch, you pick.
Josh: I really don't like taking NyQuil. Maybe you can take some?
Me: I can't have any of that crap!
Josh: Why not?
Me: I don't know, I think it has alcohol or something in it. The baby would come out with a taste for the sauce.
Me: Anyway I'm sorry you're sick but you're sleeping on the couch.
Josh: But I'm sick and the couch is uncomfortable.
Me: That's too bad.

Josh: How's your doctor appointment going?
Me: I'm still waiting to be called back... His new office is absolutely hideous and I hate it. And that's why I went to this doctor in the first place, because the office was really pretty and now I just feel like I'm waiting in the jaws of hell.
Josh: Well that's a pretty silly reason to choose a doctor. It's just an office.
Me: Well I'm super hungry and this office makes me want to go home and die.
Josh: Why didn't you have lunch before you went?!!
Me: I did. But that doesn't mean I'm not hungry still.

During my third trimester I developed pneumonia and my sweet husband would let me go rest in bed when he got home from work. We exchanged a few text conversations while I was in bed and he was playing with our toddler...
Me: Why'd you smile as you took my  dinner plate away? Were you surprised by how much I ate?
Josh: I was just smiling at you. I'm never surprised by how much you eat.
Me: Aww..
Josh: I just take whatever I think I would eat and then I double it.
Me: Great.

Josh: Are you sure all these clothes need to be washed? There are twice as many of your underwear as mine.
Me: Yep.
Josh: I was just checking because Cooper sometimes puts clean clothes in the hamper. Uh, are you ok?
Me: Every time I cough I pee my pants. Happy?

Me: I just realized I only have five more weeks left. :(
Josh: Don't worry, we'll get everything done.
Me: No only five more weeks of eating treats left!

Me: Cooper keeps eating all my food.
Josh: He's two baby. He doesn't understand.
Me: Whatever yes he does.

One weekend we went to Portland which happens to have a yummy doughnut place that I wanted to eat at. We ended up not getting the chance to eat there and then several days later a friend posted a picture of her eating at the doughnut place I had wanted to go to...
Me: I. Am. Going. To. Murder. Someone.
Josh: Uh oh... What happened?
Me: Guess who is eating at Voodoo doughnuts right now?!
Josh: That's not ok for other people to have doughnuts?
Me: No! Not when I wanted one and didn't get one! The pregnant lady! She deserves a freaking doughnut!
Josh: I asked you if you wanted to go and you said no we could do something for Cooper instead.
Me: Well I was just trying to be nice. I really wanted the stupid doughnut!
Josh: I'll get you a doughnut on the way home from work. What kind do you want?
Me: That is not even close to the same and don't pretend like it is! I'm really upset!
Josh: Baby, are you crying about doughnuts right now?
Me: They're not just any doughnuts Josh. They're really good doughnuts.

Me: I just spent all of Cooper's nap time on my tired feet making stupid chicken noodle soup for you people and it didn't even turn out! It's like a pasta, not a soup.
Josh: Hahaha. Well we can always have pizza.
Me: No you're going to eat this whole pot and then tell me how good it was and then rub my feet.
Josh: Deal.
Me: Now tell me thank you and that you're making every dinner from here on out.
Josh: Thank you. I'll make dinners from now on.
Me: Now tell me to go lay down.
Josh: Go lay down.

Josh: How'd your doctor appointment go?
Me: Ha! Get this, the stupid nurse that took me back was making small talk with me while she did my blood pressure and she complained about her sore throat!
Josh: Baby, she's allowed to have a sore throat.
Me: Cry about it lady. Try being nine months pregnant.
Josh: Oh Paige...

Me: I'm sorry I locked myself in the bathroom and cried last night when my macaroni and cheese didn't turn out right.
Josh: It's ok.
Me: And I'm sorry I made you make me a breakfast burrito at midnight.
Josh: It's ok.
Me: And I'm sorry I spilled my breakfast burrito in bed.
Josh: Sigh. It was a rough night last night.