We took on a project this weekend, and it was not pretty.
It involved our scary garage, and boxes, and weird smelly piles.
Pay no attention to the girl in the cookie mobile, we'll hear more about that next time...
These kinds of projects are just so bad.
I don't know anyone who likes them. My husband I inevitably start to bicker about what is or is not worth keeping while the kids prance among the hidden and lost treasure that they will now totally appreciate and use and I don't know how we lived without it all this time.
The worst part is that once you've got more out than in, you start to understand the scope of what you've started, and to realize just what it's going to take to bring this hellish project to any sense of completion. And then everyone starts whining.
but no one whines louder than me
All this stuff, so much crap, why am I so attached to all of this? I find it nearly impossible to get rid of certain things, like the clothes that my kids have outgrown and the blankets they were once wrapped in. I imagine that there will eventually be some use for these things, that I'll suddenly become the kind of mom who puts tiny sweaters into shadowboxes, or that I'll remember and retrieve those barely worn sneakers just when a friend's child reaches the age of the perfect fit.
We cleared out a ton of shit, it felt great. When we called it a day, the garage looked a lot better.
But it's still a mess from hell.
As for the stuff? All those boxes of outgrown clothes and sentimental baby blankets and stuffed animals and an embarassing number of castaway shoes? It got packed neatly into the back of my car
And deposited where it eventually might actually be of some use
in a mess from Hell
I can't think of a better use for those blankets that once wrapped my babies.
Once upon a glass or twelve of wine, Jacquie and Beth and Ellie got to talking. We decided that we were all enormously smart and clever and hilarious, and that it would be a crime not to share our unique talents with the world. We decided to start a blog together.
We needed a name, so Jacquie asked Beth: “What should we call a blog about meand you and Ellie?” And the rest, as they say, is history. We are having a blast writing this thing, and if there was any trepidation that we were only smart and clever and hilarious that night because of all the wine, our words here thus far have succinctly affirmed our mutual self-admiration.
What are you reading?
Ellie - Middlemarch, George Eliot. Finally
Jacquie - The Nightingale, Kristen Hannah
Beth - Perfection: A Memoir of Betrayal and Renewal by Julie Metz