Update:

There's hope.



That's right. In my house there is a single clean room. Isn't it beautiful?

And I snapped this shot while I was at it:


Dowlan and I built that closet over Spring Break while I was pregnant with Charlie. Our stuff moved into that so that the walk-in closet could be our nursery. And now that the walk-in isn't a nursery any more, it is becoming my sewing/craft room. (I can't remember if I ever really explained that.)

Charlie's cake is baked, but not decorated. Dixie's cake materials are bought. Even after I get the house done, I have a lot of work to do.

It finally looks like something has been accomplished

Having my house covered in boxes of clutter for three days has made me think of those shows where they go in and clean out and organize a room. When the crew arrives, there is a room or an entire house with junk piled everywhere. It amazes me that people can live that way. Not that I think they're slobs or mental, just that having stuff piled up everywhere makes me nervous and antsy. I think I just don't like having so much obvious work to do staring me in the face all the time.

When I was pregnant with Charlie, I spent the last two months on bed rest. Melody was just shy of 2.5 and Dowlan worked his full time job, watched Melody, watched out for me and took care of everything. The housework, shall we say, was NOT a priority. It was so frustrating to me because there is no feeling worse than staring at your own dirty house and not being able to do a thing about it. Clutter and mess gnaw at me. They glare and nag and mock me until I get up and do something about it.

So here is how far we've gotten so far today. Our room is still a wreck, but at least 2/3 of the stuff is put away. And several of the boxes you see are empty:




Remember when it looked like this?





The closet has more stuff in it, including the upper shelves organized:






That last shelf is stuff I've bought ahead to grab for birthday parties and other gift-giving occasions. If you are a person I am likely to give a gift to, don't peek too closely. The drawers in the middle picture look so innocent stacked there. From 9-2:30 last night, I sorted PILES of papers from the last 16 years. It is organized by stages of my life.

I looked through all the cards from every baby and wedding and birthday gift from the time I turned 20. It was really neat to remember all those people. It was interesting to be reminded of some, to remember some who have passed and to think about how some people just keep coming into my life. I found the wedding cards from Dixie's Grandma Jane, Granny and Uncle Billy. Who knew then what they would be to me now?

And of course there was all the old boyfriend stuff. It is really weird to see pics of me snogging another dude.

Speaking of guys I snog, here is Dowlan folding laundry this afternoon:



The girls' closet has more stuff in it, like backpacks, sleeping bags and (naturally) vacuum cleaners:


And as I was adding a few more things in, Dowlan said those five little words that nearly ended our marriage: I found more gift bags.

Remember the cards from the aforementioned showers? I still have every single sheet of tissue paper, curl of ribbon and gift bag from every gift, with the exception of the ones that I have already re-used. I have evidently forgotten how much more blessed giving is, because I have been heavy on the receiving and I still have ALL of these, that I had already neatly tucked away:


And then Dowlan had to go and find more:


Gift bags are something I have a fondness for. They're handy. Quick. Easy. AND they are nearly infinitely recyclable. And they are sooooooo cute. Who could throw these away?


Just don't be surprised if the party favors this weekend are piles of gift bags.

Day 2

I didn't take many pics early in the day, because it seemed like I did a lot of work and had nothing to show for it.


I moved a lot of stuff into the new closet, but haven't really gotten things very settled.






I spent a great deal of today shopping for containers to hold the kids' clothes and to fit in the slots of the shelving over the sewing table. Not to mention all the time I spent having lunch with one friend and dinner with another, taking a bath and finally inviting people to the birthday parties my kids are having this weekend. (And P.S.--if I know you in real life and haven't called you yet, don't take it personally. I'm even more disorganized than ever. So call me and bum an invite. I won't mind.)



I did get a lot of the junk moved out of the girls' room and into the closet:







And I made quite a bit of progress towards emptying out the top of their closet:







Dowlan got this put together for the dining room:







And I might, someday, get stuff put in it.



Here is the second Goodwill pile, so far:




And if anyone nearby is having a boy soon, here are the clothes from the first two years of Charlie's life that I'm not sure who to give to:





The pile of girl clothes to give away is substantially smaller, and I know where it's going:





Charlie's closet before and after emptying:









The main thing I did today was sorted clothes. I buy clothes ahead of time for the kids. I never buy anything not on clearance and my limit is $2-3 per item of clothing. The downside is that I have clothes in shopping bags in three different closets. We also have gotten several bags of clothing from other people. And then there's the winter clothes from last year that will be needed again this year. And all the clothes that I simply can't part with, even though no one here can wear them anymore.



So here are the buckets of clothes to put away for the kids for the future:





Notice that Melody's next size overflows while Charlie's is sparse:





And all the shoes:






So all that is now in the closets:












And our room is looking better, even though my Ursula costume appears to be attacking my napping husband:

Hours 4 and 5

(If you haven't read the posts The Closet and The Other Closet, scroll down and get those first. The order might help this make more sense.)

Hour 4: Went to Goodwill with a LARGE load of stuff and then to Home Depot for wood.

Hour 5: Started to put things into the closet. The far wall is my sewing table with my two machines and piles of clutter on it. Notice above it are two shoe racks without all the cross pieces that I got out of the other closet.



The longer wall has storage underneath and a table top for cutting and piecing quilts, laying out scrapbook pages, etc. The storage pieces here also come from the other closet. The beauty of this plan is that I will be able to get stuff laid out and then leave it there without my kids getting into it.



A close-up:


Dowlan is outside cutting a pegboard to mount to the wall to put ribbon, scissors, tape, etc on. When we get it up, I'll slap another pic at the end of the post.

Okay, here you go.



And don't worry--Dixie won't be here until AFTER the scissors get put away.

About the sewing table: When I was a live-in nanny in college (seven years ago? eight?), I got a piece of 2'x4' birch veneered plywood, slapped some trim on it, mounted two legs to one side and a set of Container Store Elfa baskets to the other side. Instant desk. It has moved with me many times and has had many functions.

In order to fit it where the changing table used to be, we had to cut off a few inches (that I'm hoping to turn into a shelf before we're done with this). To make my cutting and piecing surface, we went and bought the same birch veneer plywood and the same trim. Here is Dowlan adding the trim:



Can you see the pretty trim? You can definitely tell a difference between the old and new wood:



And another shot of the whole thing. You can see where I've started to move in:

The Other Closet

About five years ago, I hyper-organized a craft closet. Everything was clearly labeled and easily accessible.





It was the closet in my sewing/guest/dump room. But the room is now the girls' room, and it was time to clear out.





The stuff is still up top:



However, I can now move all that shelving and organizational stuff into the new craft closet, then move everything over.

The girls' room now looks like this:

The Closet

I knew when I embarked upon doing the kids' rooms at the beginning of February, that it would be the eternal project. After all, I wasn't just emptying a room out, redecorating/remodeling it, then putting the same stuff back in. I was re-purposing 2 rooms and a closet that is used as a room and the closets that are a part of the two rooms. That's over a third of the house.

We emptied the guest room/sewing and craft room/dump into the dining room. Then made that room into a little girl paradise. Then cleaned out their old room and made it into baby boy land. Then moved the stuff from the dining room into the previous nursery-closet and shut the door.

Before:








After:




So that is what the closet looked like when we started this morning.

Let it also be noted that the kids' closets never got moved around, either. The girls' room's closet is full of my craft stuff. Charlie's closet is full of girls' stuff. Charlie's stuff is piled by his closet door.

After hour one:



s



This, of course, comes with a cost:





After hour two:




And the dark-side of that accomplishment:


Hour three begins in 47 minutes.

The kids are visiting grandparents. By the end of this week, I hope to have a sewing/craft closet instead of a pile of trash. And maybe, just maybe, the kids' closets moved around, too.

Don't Mess With Texans

My brother's dog was making a weird noise last night. Trey went out and saw a guy standing near their back window where his teenage daughter was taking a bath. He chased him down, jumped the fence, wrestled him to the ground, pinned him while he hollered for his wife to bring the gun, and held him at gunpoint until the police came. Since no one actually SAW the guy peeking, they couldn't press charges, but you can bet that that guy isnt going to peek through any windows anytime soon!

My brother weighs about 300 lbs. the thought of him jumping a fence is pretty remarkable.

Edit: okay, so he weighs 280. Still impressive.

And they are pressing charges for criminal trespass, but they can't for him being a perv because no one actually saw him looking through the window.

I have no idea where she heard anything like this.

Melody just told Dixie: 'Little lady, if you're young 'nough to cut your own hair, you're young 'nough to do anything and everything by yourself. and DON'T shake that bottom at me when I'm talking to you!'

Number Six

Today was Dixie's self-inflicted hair cut number six.

I'm glad Charlie always goes for the microfiber couch when he decides to get marker happy, because it cleans off so easily.

And, some day, I am certain that Dowlan will learn that if Charlie is fully dressed he cannot reach his diaper to explore what he just put inside of it. This Saturday celebrates four-and-a-half years of parenting for the two of us, and he has yet to figure out that it is worth the extra effort to actually dress the children.

Sigh.

Oh, and did I tell you that last Friday, I finally had to explain just how Daddy got the seed inside Mommy's body?

Double sigh.

He knows his birthday is coming

We were in the van on the way to the library and Charlie was repeating whyyyy? Wh-hhy-ee? and he was really playing with the word. He kept stretching out different sounds and parts, different inflections, etc. Melody kept answering 'Because!' 'Because!'

Then she wanted to know, "Why does Charlie keep saying 'why'?"

"Because he's practicing for Two."

I hate taking three children to the doctor's office during nap time

I get there and all three kids are asleep. Yeah. So I put Melody in the stroller, figuring she has the best odds of sleeping through the whole thing. Dixie weighs too much--she simply must wake up and walk. Charlie gets carried.

Melody does not stay asleep. Girls are not behaving. It is a very small room with three very loud children. We do the hokey-pokey. Several times. Dixie keeps explaining Charlie's injury to everyone in sight.

Charlie weighs 23 lbs, 14 oz, by the way, and is 23 months old. Melody weighed that at about 30 months. Both of my biological children are peanuts.

The nurse starts asking questions, and let me interject that I LOVE the people at our pedi's office. They engage the girls in conversation, but don't actually believe what they say. Today, I am particularly grateful for this, as Melody and the nurse had the following chat.

Nurse: Are you Charlie's big sisters?
Melody: Yes. I like to tickle my brother. It makes him laugh.
Nurse: That's sweet of you. I bet you're a good big sister.
Melody: Yes, I tickle him on his faaaavorite tickle spot.
Nurse: Oh, really? Where is that?
Melody: On his penis.

Thanks, Melody.

After a quick call to Dowlan to clean up and prepare for the arrival of Child Protective Services, (somewhat kidding), the doctor comes in.

I am basically told that there isn't anything that can be done for Charlie's tongue. More stitches would create a greater risk for secondary infection than it would be worth it. We could go see a surgeon, but it would be pretty much cosmetic. He is so young that it shouldn't interfere with his speech.

In summation, Charlie will someday have a very cool tongue with which to freak out the other kids on the playground and, as an added bonus, is unlikely to ever get his tongue pierced.

you know that cartoon snake

that sticks out it's tongue and it's tongue is it's own little snake? Yeah, that's charlie's tongue.

The stitches dissolved and the muscle parts pulled away from each other. It looks like his tongue has it's own little tongue and they move independently of each other.

I'm going to vomit.

I discovered this in library story time. And I couldn't freak, because I was surrounded by lots of people and small children. The doc appt is in 1 hour and 42 minutes.

Sometimes, I think I'm doing this right.

Two days ago, we drove by a cemetery. We drive by it fairly often, and more than once has Melody seen all the trees and flowers and commented on how beautiful that place is. She wants to go there.

I've explained why we don't go there and what it is more than once, but the conversation Tuesday got deeper and longer than previous chats. And the inevitable question came up. Dixie asked, "Will we be buried someday?"

It just stabs at the heart a bit when children realize that they are not immortal.

I explained to them the nature of the soul and reiterated the hope we have in Heaven and in Christ. That our bodies will die, but that who we are is immortal, and that those who love, trust and are baptized into Christ will spend glory in Heaven.

Then that other question we've somewhat skirted arose. Dixie asked, "What about people who don't love Jesus?"

I must admit that this is a question hard to answer, so I relied on the 'party line' and gave the prefunctory answers about Hell and the devil. Melody's sweet eyes were so big and her chin quivered and betrayed her attempts to remain staunch. She's very quiet when she's serious.

Dixie, on the other hand, loves to jump in and fix things, so she asked me, "Mommy, what if I gave the Devil a hug? Would it fix him? Would it make him happy?"

What an incredibly kind child to care about the devil!

I explained, to the best of my ability, that there wasn't much chance of that making things better, and they immediately wanted to know what they could do. I told them that it was important to know God and love God and to share with the people they know that God made them and loves them, too. That we share God with others by showing them kindness and love ourselves.

Later that day, Dowlan is taking the girls swimming. Melody insisted that they include a Bible in their bag to take along, "In case someone is there who does not know about God."

And then today, Doctor Dixie used her stethoscope to 'Listen to Mommy's heart and hear what God says." God apparently said that 'Mommy can be sick and her children will take care of her' and that 'we must be kind to our sisters.'

Very wise, that God.

Making Mathematical Advances

Melody: I cleaned up lelve things
Mommy: Lelve?
Melody: Yes, lelve. It's the number between eleven and twelve.

Ugh.

I can't close my eyes without seeing blood pouring out of Charlie's mouth and his gouged tongue.

He is pretty much okay, but he keeps making this sad face, grunting and pointing at his mouth.

And this morning, I got to perform minor surgery on Dixie. She likes to push her earring backs on all the way until her lobes are pinched and swell and I keep having to pry them loose. Well, I didn't catch it in time this time around and her lobe had started to grow over the earring back.

It was not pretty. Charlie kept sympathetically patting and hugging her, saying 'there, there' and Melody kept bringing her dollies to comfort her.

And at church, they've been talking about showing kindness to your siblings. So Melody proudly announces that 'Next time we're at church in class, I'm going to tell my teacher that I was nice to Dixie and helped her when Mommy had to hurt her.'

Thanks, kid. Thanks.

More from Miss Mel

Melody! Stop chasing Charlie!

-I'm not.

Stop! It isn't silly today--remember he has that big ouchie in his mouth? If he falls, he could hurt himself again and we'd be right back in the hospital.

-I'm not chasing Charlie! I'm chasing myself! He's just running, too!

Melody!

-There's another Melody and she's chasing me and I have to run or she will get me.

Whatever you say, Melody

Melody: Mommeee! Mommeeeee! i have a fire ant bite! they bit me, and then they bit my baby rolie polie and oh no!
Dixie: And they bit me too!
Melody: Why do they like to bite people sooo much?
Dixie: Yes, Mommy, tell us! Why?
Melody: Is it because we're so tasty?
Dixie: Please, Mommy! Tell us!
Melody: That MUST be it! Because we are so very tasty.


This is from the same girl who got dressed this morning, only to have a nosebleed seconds later. So she ran around in her panties, singing panty songs. Remember the panty pocket? It's back, only it now doubles as a kangaroo pouch.

Yes, Melody's size 2T panties are so big and baggy on her 4.5-year-old body that she has room to hold a doll, wrapped in a blanket inside.

Did I mention that she started asking yesterday, in the middle of church, 'Yes, but how does daddy get the seed inside your uterus?''Was it hard work?'

Yeah.

Of course, I'm telling you all this to avoid the gruesome stuff. We'll just say that yesterday was officially Bloody Sunday and that Charlie is lucky he doesn't have more teeth. And the people at our local hospital are very good at sedating babies to sew their tongues back together.

And a PSA: get a proper, stable stool for handwashing.

That is all.

Poor Spotnik

I briefly considered removing the sidebar featuring where all Dixie is written in my house.



Then I came home from work today and found this:

Chin up

Melody: Do chins grow?
Mommy: Yes. Every part of the body grows.
Melody: Is your chin bigger than mine?
Mommy: Yes
She puts her chin against mine to compare size.
Melody: Why is your chin bigger than mine?
Mommy: Because I'm a grown-up.
Melody: Is Daddy's chin bigger than yours?
Mommy: Yes. And mine is bigger than yours. And yours is bigger than Charlie's.
Melody: Is it always that way?
Mommy: Mostly.
Melody: Huh?
Mommy: Well, if I'd married Jay Leno and had babies with him instead of Daddy, your chin would have already surpassed mine.

It's almost birthday season!

My mom's birthday and Melody's half-birthday are July 26th. Charlie's is August 2, Dixie's is August 6th and Dowlan turns 40 August 12th.

Running the birthday gauntlet is exhausting for the cakemaker.

And I want to try something new this year, so I made a practice cake yesterday.

Way to go Boof!

Charlie slept through the night in a big boy bed!

Well, most of the night. There was that one little part where he fell off and landed head-first, but we're not counting that. He went back to sleep rather quickly. So we're going to ignore that one aspect.

Hooray!

He's such boy (and a sleepy one to boot)

Charlie has always been the Sleep Champ of the house. Sleeping through the night at a few weeks old, king of the cry-it-out method, still often sleeps 15-16 hours a day, can sleep anytime, anywhere without disruption yet doesn't mind getting kept up a few hours past bedtime.

We are now paying for this luxury.

While at Oma's recently, Charlie discovered how to climb out of the Pack-N-Play (a.k.a. playpen). Instead of going to sleep effortlessly and alone at 8 p.m. it took a team of Experts to hours of trying every other sleep-inducing method known to mankind before, exhausted, resorting to the old strap-him-into-the-car-seat-and-drive-around standby. And again for nap the next day. And bedtime the next night. Rinse, repeat.

Since returning, we've been trying to get Charlie to sleep in a bed every now and then, so that if it is ever necessary, it isn't a completely foreign concept.

It is going okay. He clearly prefers the bed initially. But being a baby, he has a rather short attention span. So within minutes, he is up and wandering around his room in the dark until someone over four feet tall intervenes and puts him in his barred baby prison cell.

Today at nap, he successfully slept in the bed for about two hours before getting up. It was about half the length of his standard nap, though. So he came to the living room couch to join his sisters in their viewing of 'Dixie's Costume Movie' (a.k.a. The Wizard of Oz).

Dowlan lays him on the couch, his tiny bald fuzzy kissin' head propped on a pillow, covered in a purple chenille blanket. He's restless and stirring, so he hops up, grabs a ball, goes back to the couch and lies still, clutching the ball in one tiny grubby toddler paw. His person is incomplete without a sphere.

***

Later, after I got done watching Dowlan clean up dinner, I went into the living room. Charlie had four sections of train track and was almost done putting them together. (I was amazed that he could do it--it takes a fairly dextrous set of fingers.) When the track was together, he put the train on it and in the cutest little voice said Choo! Choo! I grabbed him more track and he has laid it all over the living room and is still, thirty minutes later, walking around saying Chug-a. Chug-a.