Why would you keep this?
Happy April, it’s snowing. I don’t care if the sun shines or not, I just need above 50 degree weather. Lugging three kids around in bulky coats and hats and mittens and boots is nonsense anymore. And who invented the ten ton car seat? That person should be shot.
You know that joke, “Why’d the chicken cross the road?” Well, I had to figure out HOW to cross the road. With all three kids intact, preferably. I had it all mapped out in my head when I was pregnant. I had a plan! Me! Planning!
I thought I would have Luca on one hip, the car seat in my other hand and Claire hanging on to the car seat.
Yah, that went over like a lead balloon. Not only did Luca wiggle too much, but Claire thought helping to carry the car seat was actually her weighing it down more by pulling on it.
That’s the thing I don’t like about planning and why I don’t. It’s just like when I registered for my wedding. I went online, picked out things that seemed practical and then in the end used half the stuff and returned the rest all the while thinking why would I want this? Then when we bought the house, I planned on colors for all the rooms and how I wanted everything before we moved in. A few months later I regretted half the paint choices and wondered why I’d ever want the furniture configured that way. Matt was really pleased when I said we had to repaint.
With life, you have to live it before you plan for it. For me, at least.
So I changed my plans. I made it work for me. Now I carry Mae with my left hand, hold Luca’s hand with my right and Claire holds Luca’s hand. Not only is it the most adorable thing in the world, watching Claire and Luca holding hands and skipping together, but it works. Claire has an iron grip on Luca’s hand, that sometimes I wonder if she’s cutting off his circulation. She takes her jobs seriously, this one is no exception. Plus, Luca is a runner. He’s the kid that gets hit in the parking lot because you turned your head for a split second. I can’t hold his hand while I take Mae out of the car, so I rely on Claire to do that for me. She does a damn fine job, too.
And I never planned for that.
Today my Mom took Claire and Luca to the mall and then to her house for a few hours so I could get a break. Matt’s on a work vacation to Las Vegas, celebrating his company’s 20th anniversary. (Five years ago, they paid for us to go to Orlando. It was one of those places I never thought I’d go, but I’m glad I did.) My brother in law went in my place, which actually works out perfectly because my other brother in law lives in Vegas. This way the three brothers could have a long weekend together. Sure, I’m missing out on a free spa day. And free drinks. And a free hotel. And a free vacation. But… I’m not a drinker, so I guess there’s that.
I’m really not bitter, but I needed a break. With Matt having been out of town last week, I just haven’t caught up yet. And the house is a wreck. Sure, it’s been a wreck for, oh I don’t know, a year, but now it’s coming to light.
Today, I decided to start my cleaning mission. I started with the kids’ play room. And I think now, having cleaned it, my cleaning mission is done for at least another year.
I threw away an entire bag of random stuff that I have no idea where it came from. And the hardest part about cleaning that room was that Claire and Luca find interest in things that I don’t find interesting. Where I see a slinky, Claire sees a pariscope. A turkey baster is really a piece of equipment for their chemistry experiments. My measuring cups carry dinosaurs.
So sorting through everything got slightly emotional. I had to put on my Matt-Cap. That’s when I just toss stuff because it’s the logical thing to do. Because it’s just a broken handle from an old jump rope. Not binoculars. But I see birds when I look through it. Or jungle animals. Or stars.
I’m an imaginative person.
And I think that’s why I hate cleaning that room. Or any room, really. I always try to find another use for things. I suppose I could be called a pack rat, but I’m no where near as bad as I used to be. I kept everything. Everything. Now I sigh and toss.
There are a few things I will never throw away, however. And no matter how many times Matt tries, I keep them. For example:
1. My burned and molten penny. When I was 3 or 4 or something, I remember as if it were yesterday, I was playing cash register. I even had one of those play registers. I was sitting in my room by myself and the fan was going next to me. I don’t know why I thought it’d be a good idea, but putting that penny in the socket seemed like a good way to make change. Turns out I just got electrocuted. But I still have the penny.
2. My baby teeth. C’mon. You have yours, too. My Mom kept them. Now I have them.
3. My very first love letter. I was in third grade and I’m still friends with the guy who wrote it to me. I actually re-found it a few months back and mentioned it to him via Facebook. He thought it was hilarious. Apparently my eyes are like diamonds in the sky, donchaknow.
4. My alarm clock. Sure, the cd part stopped working about 7 years ago, I’ve had that thing since 1997 or something. I remember I used to listen to David Grey nonstop on that thing. And I even bought the exact same model for my high school boyfriend because I loved it so much. He still uses it today.
5. My blankie. It doesn’t stay in bed with me anymore, but I use it to wrap up my babies. And when they grow up, I’ll let them wrap their babies in it.
6. My artwork. I may not be an artist anymore, but I was once. And every time I look at my hands project, I feel a sense of pride. No one will ever take that away from me.
So I’m hoping that what I threw away today won’t be missed. Because I’m home alone for another two days and I don’t need the attitudes.