I get by with a little help from my friends

When I was young, I had a best friend who lived down the street from me.  If one of us had to clean her bedroom in order to go play, the other one would always help.  It was more fun with two, and it got the job done faster so we could play sooner!

Fast forward 40 years and now I'm trying to sell my house.   My big house that I've had for over 11 years.  My big house with one toilet too many, and a spare bedroom that has somehow taken on the role of "extra closet" for us.

Don't want to deal with all that stuff you cleaned out of the laundry room?  Put it in the spare bedroom. Don't want to sort those papers just yet?  Put them in the spare bedroom.  Don't want to get rid of those newspaper articles or curriculum guides or photos that aren't scrapbook worthy?  Put them in the spare bedroom!

You can see where I am going with this.  It wasn't to the level of that TV show about hoarders.  I mean, there was still carpet showing for pity's sake!  I could have fit so much more stuff in there, but I didn't really want to.  I wanted to clean it out so it looked ok for showing the house.  I'm trying to downsize my life, not just my mortgage.  I'm trying to get rid of stuff.

Enter my friend, G.  She's about as organized and crafty and ruthless as she needs to be with other people's stuff and I asked if she had time in her calendar for some "sorting and purging".   She had time, she assured me, and not only that, she would bring dinner over so we wouldn't have to stop in the middle of purging and go get something to eat.  This should have been my first clue that she was going to enjoy this far too much.

We started in the spare bedroom and then graduated to the office area where I do crafts.  Stuff went flying into drawers, boxes, bins, and totes.  Things were labeled, filed, repaired, and repurposed.  Some non-important memorabilia was kissed goodbye, while some important ones were given a place of honor.  Having a friend help forced me to look at the clutter with new eyes and measure every item against the new smaller house I want.  (Is it new house worthy?)  We laughed about the stupid things I kept, and we noted the irony when a "Storage and Organizing" magazine was uncovered in the mess.  G was great about keeping it moving and not letting me get too sentimental.  She also never judged me, and more than once mentioned that some of the things I had were exactly what she would have kept.

Five hours later, we had two big bags of trash, one bag of recyclables, four donation boxes, and a box of things to sell on craigslist.  :->

Friends.  Don't clean your home without 'em!

More noodles, more butter...

Had to go to the grocery store the other day.  We were out of noodles.  In fact, we were out of all things pasta.  Not a good place to be when you live with my noodle-lovin' kid.

As I drove there, I mulled over the idea of whole wheat pasta.  It's better for you.  It has more fiber.  I didn't tell kiddo what I was thinking, I just kept it in my head.

Got to the pasta aisle.  Don't you just love the different shapes?  So creative.  Anyway, I mentioned that I was going to buy the whole wheat kind and I started reading labels.

You would have thought I had suggested going on a 40-day fast.  People four aisles away were privy to part of this next conversation:

Her:  WHAT?????

Me: It tastes the same.

Her:  NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!  I.  JUST.  WANT.  THE.   REGULAR.  KIIIIIIIIND. (imagine all sorts of body language accompanying the protests)

Me: (still reading labels)  Hmmmm.

Her:  (with a big pkg of "the regular kind" in her hands) HERE.  This is what I WANT.

Me:  No, I think we will try the whole wheat kind.  You won't even notice.

Her: (arms folded across her chest) You sound just like MeMe (her grandma).

Me:  Thank you.

The muttering and murmuring continued (ignored by me) until we got to the dairy aisle.  Then there was this:

Her:  Mom?

Me:  Yes?

Her:  I guess it will be ok.  I mean, I think I'll like the new kind of noodles ok.

Me:  (expressionless) Ok.

We left the store with our new noodles and a nomination for a "Best Protest in a Noodle Aisle" Oscar.

I can hardly wait till puberty hits.

Day One, 5k run

I walk pretty fast, but I am not a runner.  So when my daughter's PE teacher invited a bunch of kids and their families to do the 5k on New Year's Day, I signed her up but I stayed by the car and took pictures.

When I signed her up, I had no idea it would be about 28 degrees F.

She was a trooper, though.  Wore layers and did the run (with some walking) under 45 min.  Not terrible for her first time.  The worst part was breathing the cold air.  We'll fix that next time with a Buff.