Monthly Archives: August 2016

Kondo-ing My Life, The Clothing Edition

Posted on by

So here we are in the very last week of summer vacation, and finally, FINALLY the weather is lovely. Although it looks like it’s all going to hell on the long weekend, so hurrah for Calgary for living up to its usual weather standards. Well, at least it isn’t forecasted to SNOW. At least, I think it isn’t.

The boys have reached the happy stage where they are busy planning their own social lives and I am the cheerful chauffeur/ casual supervisor. I actually really love hearing the incredibly-loud sounds of tween boys in the house, and I know that sounds sarcastic but I am in earnest. I hope they always want to bring their friends over to Hang Out.

Meanwhile, when they are off gallivanting in the neighbourhood and hanging out drinking slurpees in the back yard, I have been continuing with my quest to Spark Joy In My House By Getting Rid Of All The Crap.

Kondo

Also: Sparking Joy By Drinking Beer.

I do not think I am exaggerating by saying that my life has truly been changed. By the Magic of Tidying Up. Holy moly, I have always prided myself on having a very clean and organized house, but I have been in this house for 16 years and there are some spots that have become dumping grounds/ cemeteries for odd items. Things that I never really wanted to deal with, I have been Dealing With. At this time I am up to 25 bags and boxes for donation, 5 bags of garbage (eek) and I don’t even know how much recycling.

Here’s the thing, though: my closet was the least of it. Remember several months ago when I reorganized my closet and I got rid of nothing whatsoever? Well, this time around I kept thinking, KonMari-like, wouldn’t it be wonderful if every clothing item you owned brought you joy? Armed with nothing but a grim determination and also a repression of feelings about fleeting time and the end of summer, I emptied all my drawers containing tops and sweaters on the floor.

Tops

This pile is ONLY sweaters and tees. It does not include my yoga wear, beach wear, or exercise gear. I went through everything, earnestly and whole-heartedly. Here is the “keep” pile.

Keep

And here is the “donate” pile:

NoGo

*NOTE* I am keeping Barkley. He just was incredibly confused and probably thought I was packing for vacation or something, and so needed to block me in my room.

The take-away from this exercise is twofold: a) my clothing really does Spark Joy, and b) I have a lot of clothes. By the time I finished going through pants, dresses, pajamas, scarves, shoes, boots, yoga clothes, and swimwear, I had two small/ medium boxes full of items for donation. So of my 25 bags and boxes, my clothing was less than ten percent of that.

That felt good, because I do love clothes and shopping, and I liked that I mostly have purchased things that I really loved. A few items that I donated didn’t fit properly anymore, or didn’t suit me as well as I’d hoped, but as a general rule, my shopping habits have been decent and not overly wasteful.

BUT.

I still have a lot of clothes, and so in the spirit of September, Fresh Starts, and New (School) Year Resolutions, I have one big goal, and if I Blog It I Will Have To Stick To It.

Are you ready?

I am not going to buy myself a single item of clothing until my birthday next April.

Eeek! For me, this is a big deal, but I’m going to stick to it. The next time I see something I like I will a) go shopping in my own closet and will probably find something similar, or b) put it on a Christmas wish list, since my husband and kids like to have specific items to look for when it comes to gift shopping for me.

Mental note: keep Christmas wish list small, or the point of this exercise will be lost.

Much, much more to come on my Personal Growth From Kondo-ing (someone is staring at you in Personal Growth*) but for now I have peppermint fudge ice cream to make, kids to feed, and a giant stack of old magazines to purge. xo

*Big kudos to whoever can name that movie. Hint: it is my all-time favourite.

Does anyone still read print magazines or is it just me?

Posted on by

Thank you to everyone for your kind words about Barkley! I’m happy to report he’s pretty much all better, except for having to take pills and eat really, really gross looking canned dog food for a few more days. One huge benefit of having a Labradoodle is that he will happily eat the pills with no coaxing at all, just pushed into a little bit of the aforementioned gross looking canned dog food. It’s a good thing that he is better and today – according to the powers that be – is National Dog Day!

Bokey

He just got groomed and his ear was excitedly flipped back – don’t worry, he still has ears. I tried to take a selfie with him but he tried to lick me AND the phone, so I just took one of myself.

MeToday

I also got groomed this week, in that I got my hair cut and coloured. I flipped through a Hello! magazine and a People magazine, and honestly, I’ve reached Old Lady Status where I really don’t know who any of the famous people are or why they are famous, other than the British Royal Family.

Well, that’s not totally true. I know who this guy is.

hughjackman

And this guy too:

chrishemsworth

And also these three:

threeguys

So I guess I’ve just reached Pervy Old Lady Status.

That magazine, by the way, is one my husband subscribed to during the school’s magazine campaign, and I will renew it for him until the end of time. IT IS FULL OF VERY INFORMATIVE ARTICLES AND COMMENDABLE RESEARCH.

Speaking of old ladies, I was reminded of my dear grandma when I saw this in the grocery store:

jonbenet

My grandma was very interested in the JonBenet Ramsey case, and followed it closely back in the day. I cannot believe this case is still unsolved. I remember my grandma reading everything about it and discussing it with her, and then my dad raised her ire by suggesting that JonBenet’s mother was the guilty party. Hoo boy, I learned a lesson: do not suggest such a thing to my grandma.

Anyway, one thing that I learned – circling back to recent Hello! and People magazines that I flipped through at the salon – is that history, as usual, is doomed to repeat itself. By this I mean fashion history. I have also noted this at places where Young People Gather. Current fashion is favouring the outfits that I myself wore in my teen years, regrettably short denim cutoffs with very high waists, crop tops, body suits, acid wash, and – alarmingly – overalls.

How do you stand on fashions that you remember The First Time Around? I lean toward the camp that says if you wore it once, you shouldn’t again, but possibly it depends on what age you wore it the first time. Or if the fashion is a modification of the earlier one, perhaps that would be fine. I mean, there’s no way I’d wear this again:

NicoleVogueing

There is NO part of that outfit I would wear again, really. That move I am doing is vogue-ing, for those of you who remember vogue-ing.

And on that note I shall sign off for the weekend. Happy Friday, everyone! xo

Winter Is Coming

Posted on by

My gracious, it’s been a hell of a week, and it’s only Wednesday. We were having a lovely time up at the lake with my parents, boating and swimming and tubing, enjoying what felt like the last blast of summer, when Barkley got sick. He got sick in the middle of the night, and after the sixth time of letting him out, I gave up all pretenses of sleep and just curled up on the couch. He seemed to be better when we got home Sunday evening, but worsened through the night. I’ll spare you the gross details but by Monday morning he couldn’t keep down water. Too long, didn’t read: he ended up overnighting in the animal hospital, but now his sweet fuzzy self is home with us. Exhausted, on medication and a special diet, but home. I didn’t realize how many dog commercials are on TV until he was not there. I didn’t realize how much companionship he provides me, until he didn’t. But! He is home and we are all happy.

Bokey

Besides being worried, and spending my nervous energy doing things like scrubbing down the oven door and cleaning grout with a toothbrush, I’ve also been preparing for back to school. We’ve been busy buying school supplies for the first time – everything is provided at our elementary school, so this is new territory – plus winter coats and pants that actually fit. I took the boys shoe shopping, which is something that never fails to break my spirit. Just stepping through the door at Sport Chek makes me feel like I’m losing the will to live, and that’s before I look at the prices of running shoes. As I was leaving, a random lady said to me I feel like I’m hemorrhaging money at this time of year, which is an apt statement that no one can disagree with.

But, we are all ready for school to start – in less than two weeks! – and I have been continuing with my Kondo-ing. One huge benefit of Kondo-ing everything is finding things I haven’t looked at in years. I found the arty, black and white album of engagement photos that we had done back in 2001. Well, I had them done, I think my husband could have done without them. To be honest, I never liked those photos; it turns out I do not look good in black and white, and also I didn’t like the artistic shots. There was one where we were kissing, with a C-Train speeding by in the background. I guess the photographer was going for the Hello Calgary look, I don’t know. Oh look! A northbound train! Let’s kiss!

Along with the photos, I discovered hundreds of CD’s, including, bizarrely, the soundtrack to Ally McBeal and a copy of Please Hammer Don’t Hurt Them. At this moment, I have eighteen bags and boxes slated for donation, not to mention a ton of recycling and – unfortunately – several bags of garbage. I still haven’t gone through the children’s school and artwork; that part is going to be an emotional landmine, so I need to wait a little bit for that.

Meanwhile, we all have haircuts this week, plus we are going to try to squeeze in some fun activities between the arctic-like weather that seems to have settled in. Yesterday I wore boots and a blanket scarf and it snowed in the mountains. Winter Is Coming! I just hope we get a few weeks of fall first.

Kondo-ing My Life

Posted on by

I consider myself to be a very self-aware person. I know that I can be very easy to live with, in some ways, but very difficult in others. I can recognize my faults along with my positive character traits. So I recognize that at the end of the summer, I become a bit of an emotional mess. Landslide, and all that.

My end-of-summer melancholy is always tempered by my excited-to-start-fresh-in-September attitude, so I’m not trying to say that I become a mopey, weeping person by mid-August. I’m just saying that in the past I’ve had to choke back tears all through Inside Out, which turned into full-blown sobbing about Bing Bong. The year Jake started kindergarten I cried so hard while on hold with the printer Help Desk that the gentlemen on the other side told me that maybe I should go get myself a drink of water, and he would take care of everything. Then he sent me a new printer. 

Anyway, I know myself. And Mark is starting Junior High and Jake is in his last year at our beloved elementary school, where we have spent the last eight years and where I have made a wonderful circle of friends and volunteered at extensively. I’ve been afraid of changing…because I built my life around youuuuuu…

But, as they say, Time Makes You Bolder and so I have taken charge and have redirected all my energies into a complete household reorganization.

I’ve had The Life-Changing Magic Of Tidying Up on my library hold list for a while, and last week it came in. I devoured it. I know, I know, it’s 2016, and KonMari/ Kondo-ing things is so last year. I may be a day late and a dollar short, but let me tell you, I love that book. IT IS LIFE CHANGING MAGIC, PEOPLE.

For those of you who haven’t read it – I can’t be the only one who hadn’t read it, right? – the premise of the book is simple: surround yourself with things that bring you joy and get rid of everything else. Ask yourself why you are holding on to certain things; if it is something that doesn’t bring you joy, then send it on its way, expressing gratitude for the role it has played in your life. For example, don’t feel badly throwing out that lipstick that doesn’t suit you. It taught you a lesson, and that was worth the price you paid for it. That sweater that you don’t like, someone else might love. Send it on its journey.

This, my friends, is exactly the kind of hippy-dippy, non-attachment, Let The Sunshine In kind of thing that I love. Bring in the good energy, block out the bad.

kevin

Now, let me be clear: my house is pretty clean. I am a very organized person by nature. I also live in a bungalow that – including basement and storage area – is 2200 square feet. I don’t really have the room to be a hoarder, and I don’t have a lot of clutter. If you were to stop by unexpectedly, I would not be worried about the state of my house, because the state of my house is always clean. Well, truly, if you were to stop by unexpectedly I’d never answer the door because I don’t want to be murdered by a random stranger, or, in the best case scenario, I don’t want to be solicited for money/ talked to by politicians/ offered lawn services by someone who is scary looking but is probably harmless.

But you take my meaning.

However, there are areas in the house that could definitely be improved on. I have kept so much of the kids’ schoolwork and art work that the bins I purchased for such items are overflowing. I have whole shelving units that were filled with stuff I didn’t know what to do with. The downstairs closets are a disaster, and my hall cupboard was so jammed with stuff that the doors didn’t always close. I have baskets and bins that have loose papers and magazines that I have yet to deal with.

And so I started to Kondo the house, and while it isn’t the very most satisfying thing I’ve done in my life, it is right up there. Every day I’ve been rampaging through the house, like a Kondo machine, bagging things and boxing things and reorganizing things all over the place. In fact, I’m planning to write about this whole experience, so lucky you, you will get to see photos of organized drawers and re-purposed shoe boxes.

It hasn’t all been rabid purging around here though; this week has been all about doctors and dentists and check ups and orthodontists…there was so much non-fun going on that I took a break from my frantic pace to take the kids to the local amusement park. It turned out to be the best day ever; the kids were chosen to be “park openers” which was a thrill in and of itself, and then they were second in line for the log ride. Tons of fun were had by all, but I think my favourite moment was when the park official was telling them what they needed to do, and asked “Are you brothers or friends?” “Both!” they answered, and I swear, I got a little teary.

I guess Kondo-ing everything doesn’t totally keep me from being a bit of an emotional mess. But my house sure is clean.

timbermills

Spoiled children and first seven jobs

Posted on by

In my last post, I promised a photo of me looking disapproving at the amusement park, and today was supposed to be that day. Except that the sky is grey, again, and threatening to thunderstorm, AGAIN, and so I am just looking disapproving in my kitchen:

disapproval

The thought of packing up snacks, bug spray, and the children, and then driving twenty-five minutes, only to get rained on or electrocuted is disheartening to say the least, and so it looks like another somewhat indoorsy day.

I read a piece in the New Yorker called Spoiled Rotten, in which an anthropologist studied families in Los Angeles and in an Amazonian tribe, to see the difference in the role children played in the family structure. Predictably, the children in LA were complete spoiled brats who refused to tie their own shoes or fetch their own silverware from the drawer, whereas the Amazonian children were significantly contributing to the household, and society in general. In the natural order of things, of course, the LA children turn into thirtysomethings whose moms are still doing their laundry while they make YouTube videos in the basement, and the Amazonian children turn into functioning adults who go out in the world to seek their fortune, just like fairy tale heroes of yore.

It really made me think, being that it was a think-piece and all. Of course, for narrative purposes, the author would have chosen to write about the absolutely worst LA children and the most self-sufficient Amazonian tribe in order to get the starkest contrasts. However. It had me wondering if my kids could be doing more, if I expect too little of them.

Don’t get me wrong, I feel like I expect a lot. I expect excellent behaviour wherever we go. I expect them to get good grades and work very hard year-long, including summer worksheets and writing projects. I expect them to look people in the eye when they are speaking, to shake hands when meeting someone for the first time – and to put some meat into those handshakes, no dead fish hands please – I expect them to introduce themselves and say “Nice to meet you.” I expect them to make their beds, put away laundry, help with yard work and household chores, set the table, clear the table, load the dishwasher, and feed the dog. They often help chop vegetables and they help my husband put up and take down exterior decorations for Christmas and Halloween, Jake knows how to change a tire and jack up the car and Mark helps with the pre-winter maintenance of the air conditioner and shovels the sidewalk.

So they aren’t like the LA kids in the essay, and – PLEASE GOD – they won’t be living in my basement in 20 years. But there are a lot of things that I knew how to do at their age that they don’t. For example, I used to babysit a lot, and I would cook lunch for my little charges all the time, mostly Kraft Dinner or Zoodles, but I knew how to do it. Only yesterday did I show the boys how to turn on the stove. They have never cleaned a bathroom and their ability to sweep the floor leaves much to be desired. Also, much to be picked up by Roomba.

Speaking of Roomba, he continues to be the naughty little pet that we all love. We love his industry, and we laugh when he bumps into a side table and ends up with a piece of paper jauntily riding atop his little body. Roomba is wearing a hat! we say joyfully. A few times Roomba somehow got tangled up in the toilet paper, leading to a giant shredded mess all over the basement. Oh, Roomba! we shake our heads at his well-meaning but disastrous attempt. Just a few days ago, the boys ran upstairs in a state of excitement. Roomba, they said, had tried to eat the laces on my husband’s trainers, and had dragged the shoe all over the basement.

I feel like this could be the start of a very exciting reality show, or maybe even a sitcom. It would be at least as entertaining as any of the ones currently on air. The Adventures of Roomba! Roomba would surely be a contributing member of society, not like those spoiled children in LA.

Speaking of (semi) spoiled children, I must now send them to the Co-Op by themselves to buy a loaf of bread since we have, inexplicably, ran out. Never mind that we all were buying cigarettes for our parents at the corner store at age seven, and the six-year-old Amazonian children are catching and cleaning all the shellfish for the tribe to have for dinner, I am PROUD that my children can go to the Co-Op by themselves, armed only with a fiver, my Co-Op number, and a reusable bag. And then – AND THEN – they can take that damn loaf of bread and make sandwiches from it for their lunches because I am raising my children to be competent adults, and also they don’t eat Zoodles or Kraft Dinner.

Oh! But I had forgotten what I had been actually planning to write this post about, and no, it wasn’t actually the New Yorker piece. What can I say, I digress easily. There has been a meme going around about Your First Seven Jobs and I thought it would be fun if you could play along too. What were yours? Here are mine:

  1. Babysitter (this should be obvious from the entire post)
  2. Page at the public library, where I shelved books and impressed the interviewers with my knowledge of the Dewey Decimal System and my volunteer work as a candy striper at a nursing home.
  3. Pizza Hut employee, where I did all jobs from bussing tables to answering phones to making pizza to being a cashier. It was a fun job in that I had a lot of friends there, but it was also a terrible job because people LOVE to scream at the teenage employees when their pizza does not arrive in a timely fashion.
  4. Salesgirl at a ladies’ clothing store, where I discovered I did not want to sell anything, ever again.
  5. Waitress at Moxies’ – another fun job where I also discovered that working in customer service is very hard. This job made me empathetic every single time I had a meal out that went awry for any reason.
  6. Beer sample girl. If you want a job where you get hit on by disgusting, much older alcoholics, and everyone treats you like a brainless idiot, this is the job for you! I finally quit in a fit of rage when the company got a contract with Busch, and I would have been required to wear a Busch bathing suit to hand out samples. In a freezing cold liquor store. NO THANK YOU, YOU MAY KEEP YOUR SEVEN DOLLARS AN HOUR.
  7. Summer student at a petroleum company. This was my first taste of corporate life, and I got to use my linear programming skills, so it was great. It ended up leading to my first “real” job that didn’t involve food, customer service, or bathing suits.

Please play along! What were your first seven jobs? All of these jobs took place within the span of a decade, which seems amazing for some reason.

My Face Says I’m Disappointed, But My Heart Says I’m Happy

Posted on by

Well, hello there! So much has happened in the last two weeks; my husband took time off work and we Vacationed Like Nobody’s Business. First of all, the boys finished off their week of karate camp with a mini-tournament, and all I can say is that I really get Aly Raisman’s parents. I really do. I cannot imagine the nervous breakdown I would have in the highly unlikely event that my children were Olympic medal contenders, because I find myself sweating, with heart palpitations, just watching the karate kids sparring in a fun-tournament-that-has-no-real-consequences. Johnny, you’re a cream puff. It’s not just for my kids, either; I find myself all tied up in knots watching ANY of the students.

Happily, the mini-tournament went well, and the boys did not have to compete against each other too much, which was a huge relief. They are in the same belt and age group and so this has happened in the past; it is just as much fun as you might imagine.

Just as a quick side note: the only summer Olympic event I actually am interested in watching, albeit briefly, and never very closely, is women’s gymnastics, and unfortunately this is the only summer Olympic event my husband is NOT interested in watching. This means there is a lot of Ooh, look at that! kind of commentary, followed by total disinterested silence from the other spouse. Occasionally there will be a polite Ah! in response, but those Ah!’s are few and far between.

After karate camp, my husband took the boys Camping For Real, which meant that I stayed home and made avocado fries and kale chips and watched back-to-back episodes of NYPD Blue before falling asleep at 8:45. I also tried to soothe Barkley, who had apparently fallen into a deep depression after hearing the truck being packed up and being left behind. Poor puppy. Who can blame him? NYPD Blue isn’t everyone’s taste. He sat outside in the backyard, staring at the garage for hours, until I tempted him in with treats, only to go back outside again. It was like a less-sad version of that movie where the dog waits for his deceased owner at the train station until death finally releases him from this heart-breaking hopefulness.

God, now I’m depressed.

Vacation! Back to vacation. We spent a few days at my parents’ place, and the weather cooperated enough for us to not only go boating, but for the boys to go tubing and swimming as well. My dad snapped this photo of me, and it cracks me up.

BOAT

I look like I am Deeply Disapproving of all this Fun In The Water, but really, this is just what my face looks like in repose. I was fully approving of the aquatic good times, I swear.

We then spent eight days at my in-laws’ place, where we had not one but two lovely dinners with friends, I enjoyed a Girly Afternoon With The Girls complete with mani-pedis and lunch, the boys went swimming several times, my husband and I took not-sad-anymore Barkley for long walks along the creek, and we went bowling twice.

BOWLING

Notice anything about this photo, other than my saucy bowling shoes? My shirt – which I chose while shopping with my mother, who thinks I wear Too Much Black – is not only colourful, it is long sleeved. It seems the below-average temperatures like to follow me wherever I go this summer. The chilliness didn’t really kill my summer buzz, but I would like more opportunities to wear my cute summer clothes before fall sets in.

To be honest, it kind of feels like fall has already set in; soon we’ll be doing things like wearing socks and sweaters and non-flimsy scarves. August is a bit of a funny month for me; for example, I spent this morning at the orthodontist, and next week the boys have appointments with both doctor and dentist. I need to make optometrist appointments, and I have to buy a LOT of clothes. I had the boys try on every clothing item they have, only to discover that Mark has zero pants that fit. Jake now has three pair of Mark’s old pants – the only ones that weren’t worn completely out – and nothing else. There’s only three weeks left of summer vacation!

Well, I need to cram some fun times into these final three weeks, as well as all the important health-and-clothing related business. Maybe I’ll take the kids to the amusement park, so I can look Deeply Disapproving there.