george's new room

My first priority when we arrived at the new house was to get George's room in order. I wanted to make it clear that his stuff was still his stuff, it was all here, and his comfort was important to us. So, while Nathan and his dad did the heavy lifting, I arranged toys and put away clothes and generally made his room as Georgeish as I could. It's been a work in progress, as kid rooms always are, but we seem to have reached a good spot and I think we'll let it stay like this for awhile. With his sister crawling, some of the growing pains we thought we'd dodged in the beginning are rearing their heads and it's important to me that he, at least for now, have a space that's safe, baby slobber free, and his. Somewhere down the road, they'll share a room -- maybe this room -- but for as long as Zelda's co-sleeping, this area is George's and his alone. 

I love this room. It's bright, like the rest of the house, and unintentionally very green. It's cheerful but not in that saccharine way that kids' stuff can be. At least, to me. 

It's full but not brimming. Lived-in, with a bed big enough for two, or three, or four. There's art on the walls and not even most of it was made for children. I like that.

That closet, man. It's a secret lair. Another whole person could sleep in there, but right now it holds Zelda's clothes and a someday-to-be nook for hiding out when your mom's annoying you. 

"Do you like your room?" I asked him this morning. "Do you want some tea?" he replied. "Some CHOCOLATE tea?" I'll take that as a yes.

a pony bead mobile

Way back last winter when we were dying for new indoor activities, I bought a container of pony beads for George to string on pipecleaners. He enjoyed it for a little while but got good at it pretty fast and then the activity lost its charm. I'd bookmarked The Artful Parent's pony bead suncatcher tutorial and, though our beads weren't the translucent variety, thought we'd make a go of it anyway. George really likes playing with cookie cutters so even if the end result was a bust, I knew he'd have fun in the process. 

The beads we have are a rainbow assortment which was good for our purposes. Older kids would enjoy making shapes or scenes out of the different colors, but "can you put another purple one into the star?" type stuff seemed to help George feel successful while still being mildly educational since he's got colors and shapes down pretty solidly.

We talked about putting them into the hot oven (400 degrees for 20 minutes) so they would melt, and I asked him what he thought would happen to the beads -- would the colors blend together or would they stay separate? He's been pretty interested in cooking recently so I likened it to making a pizza, where the ingredients stay identifiable, or making a cake, where the ingredients blend together to make something that looks different. 

Meanwhile, Zelda chewed on a cookie cutter. I let George choose which cutters we used, and he picked all of the Hanukkah shapes: dreidel, star of David, scrolls, and menorah, in addition to some ovals. Weird, but whatever.

I got out the drill and a small bit and drilled holes in the finished shapes. This was easily the least popular part of the whole process. Zelda whimpered in fear and George cowered in the doorway saying, "do it fast!" After fastening on some fishing line and snipping the top ring out of an old oats canister, I tied them uniformly around the ring and added a bit of yarn for hanging. I'm not sure how long it'll last, but it's a pretty cute little mobile.

Festive! And only four months early for Hanukkah. We'll totally do it again, but with the translucent beads. Guess who's proud of his handiwork?

move it move it

Moving with a very young infant and a two year old is not something I'd advise doing unless your other option is homelessness. I mean, maybe you're super organized or have few personal possessions or are able to hire movers, in which case I guess we have nothing in common. In fact, as I was filling up one of the nineteen million boxes of books we moved it dawned on me that hiring movers is a real thing that some people do and I fantasized about going out for a pedicure and coming home to a van full of uniformly-sized boxes packed sensibly. Our reality, however, was stealing boxes from Mojo Music's dumpster under the cover of night and hoping they held up, despite the unique challenge of squeezing one's belongings into something that once obviously and efficiently held a ukulele and was ripped into with the abandon of someone excited to place that ukulele on the shelf of his music shop/get off work in a timely fashion. 

People have asked about the transition to the new house, and how George is taking it, and I let them in on a secret I uncovered in the process: make your child really, really miserable in the old house. Pile boxes everywhere. In front of his toys. Actually, go ahead and pack up his toys first, like the excellent planner that you are. It helps if the weather is uncharacteristically awful, precluding outside play. Then, be too busy packing to hang out with him because you have, like, two weeks until you have to be out of the old house and also it's the end of the school year so your partner is at work 14 hours a day. 

But, we made it. To a bigger house, with a bigger yard. And the summer unfurled in front of us, full of hangouts and road trips and family visits and eating at an honest-to-god dining room table that faces our garden of overgrown irises, roses, wild blackberries and the weirdest pear tree you ever saw.

There's space to play, and eat like real people, and grow things, and live. Room to spread out, and corners to find each other in. Places to put company and, unbelievably, most of our stuff.

We're already pretty happy here, but I think it's going to get even better. It's a nice feeling to pull up to your own house and admire it before you walk up the steps. 

thrifty sunday: long time, no see

I mentioned that we moved, right? To a whole different city, with different places to shop. A new co-op, which, incidentally, is about a thousand times more amazing than the Bellingham co-op; a new farmer's market that we explored for the first time this weekend; and, of course, a new set of thrift stores. While I appreciate the old standbys -- Value Village and Goodwill -- much like I appreciate familiar chain grocery stores, I dearly love finding new weirdo charity shops because they're usually cheaper and stocked with older stuff. 

Another change: one of us is gainfully employed! And it isn't me! Yeah, I just spend the money. Which is what I did to celebrate. 

1. Saucony "baseball shoes" in George's size, $3.99. He spotted these amid an unfortunate sea of Disney princess slippers and bizarrely inflexible dress shoes and said, "Those fit me!" He was right, and we're nearing the end of Crocs season so it was positively providential.

2. Three books, $1.99 each. How To Talk So Kids Will Listen... has been on my reading list forever, Positive Discipline in the Classroom seemed a helpful choice for a high school-cum-new middle school teacher such as Nathan, and Wonder Play (a book of stuff to do with the under-three set) is put out by the 92nd St Y, so was an easy sell.

3. Seattle Mariners shirt, $.99. What better time to wear a Mariners shirt?

4. Seemingly unworn Hanna Andersson clogs, $9.99. Pricey for a thrift store purchase, no doubt, but seriously: brand new! Purple clogs! 

5. Painting of a lady, $1. Signed "Don '54." It was a dollar! My heart hurts a little anytime I see someone's artwork languishing in a thrift store. Also, I love portraiture. Poor Don. Poor Lady. She's filthy, but she'll have a good home here.

6. Guatemalan dress, $1.99. Perfect for Zelda's fall wardrobe, with some wooly tights and a homemade cardigan, and plenty of room for the giant diaper bum. 

6.5. Again, the clogs!

three months

Three months passes quickly these days. This year. Suddenly I have a six month old I set down on the rug in the living room, only to see her little face peek into the dining room while I help her brother with play doh. Her brother, who asks me to help him build a Curiosity space ship to blast off from the swirly turquoise and green ball he's rolled into planet Earth. There are many planets in our solar system, he tells me. That's true.

And the other one, the one who's scooting her chubby buns around a full 2 months earlier than George even considered trying? She's one of those babies who gives babies a good name. Who gives expectant parents hope. Who sends fear straight to the heart of new boyfriends whose dates coo at her gummy, grinning face and exclaim Oh, I love babies! Sorry, dudes.

We moved, we've been entertaining (and entertained), and posts about those things may be coming up in addition to some real talk about potty learning and having two kids. But right now, we're enjoying the fleeting nice weather. I hope these three months have treated you well.