And Then She Finally Sat Down At The Computer And Wrote Something

Over a week away? Good grief Charlie Brown!! Here's the magic rhetorical question.....how can a person be too busy to sit and get something done, but unable to explain exactly what it was that has kept her so busy? Seems like if "busy" is filling my days that I'd have lots to write about!

I could write about all the homeschool planning I've gotten done. Because there's been a lot of that going on. I'm not sure it makes for very exciting reading, but I've spent lots of time with books and catalogs and feel a plan beginning to gel for next year. It is such a good feeling that comes after many hours of evaluation and research. I'll mercifully spare you converting the "many hours" part into written form.

I could write about a little sewing project that has occupied a lot of my time lately. And I will. Soon, very soon. I love to show off new sewing projects, and this one should be done by tonight!

I could write about all the laundry that is getting folded up and put away. But I won't. Because. Just because. Because it would take a slight restructuring of the truth and I'm just not comfortable with those kinds of shenanigans around here. :)

So instead I'll write about how Buzzard and Hannah and Max left on a trip together early Friday morning, leaving Hayden and Emma and I here to create a weekend of fun, and that's just what we did. Hayden makes a great (and easy!) date. I offered him anything/everything in the city as food options for dinner Friday night. He chose a can of Spaghettio's. Hooray for forty four cents and three minutes in a sauce pan! Last night he willingly accompanied my Mom and I to Pottery Barn for over an hour. The fact there is a Lego store right next door certainly worked to our advantage, but he also did his fair share of offering valuable opinions and insights into the world of lamp shades and pillow covers. In return, I stopped and rented a $1 movie from the Red Box. A dollar seemed like a fair price to pay for an hour in my favorite store.

No purchases at Pottery Barn. We're working on putting the living room together and I've decided that due to my lack of decorating finesse this will be the last time I will decorate this room ever in my whole entire life. Ever. That seems like a whole lot of pressure when picking out throw pillows, and I buckle under the stress when I actually hold them in my hand in the store. How can I be absolutely sure that I will still be deeply in love and committed to a pillow with bird embroidery in the year 2047?? It seems so risky. I have looked at fabric for drapery panels online daily for twenty seven straight days. Will stripes be in style forever? How about paisleys? Toille? Too trendy? Don't even get me started on the wall art conundrum. There isn't enough blog space in all of cyberworld to effectively and conclusively hash out the photos vs. mirrors vs. framed art triangle of mental torture. Putting all three on the wall together seems like a bit much, even for me, queen of the-opposite-of-understated. Have you ever noticed that Pottery Barn can hang 112 things on a wall in their catalog and it looks amazing? Coordinated and purposeful and like it is meant to be there? I have a grouping of seven picture frames on my bedroom wall and it feels like I'm sleeping in the Louvre. It's just all wrong. It looks like a picture frame convention and it's so overdone I'm worried the wall will fall down. I worry about this when I'm not worrying about picking out a new rug for the living room.

And yet you wonder why I have not written in a week. You've clearly been missing out on some very important details.

And if that wasn't a rabbit trail I don't know what is. There's something about the mention of Pottery Barn that demands a paragraph to follow it.

So Hayden and Emma have been precious weekend pals to me. Hayden has been incredibly hard at work this weekend on a little surprise for his brother. Max got a new Lego for Christmas that was a real stinker to put together. It got pretty confusing and overwhelming so we put it up for a while. Max has mentioned wanting to play with the end product, so Hayden committed in his head to getting it built before Max gets home. He has worked like a little Lego trojan on this set. Last night he sat on the floor with his little butter knife prying apart a bunch of pieces that he assembled wrong on Friday. He was pretty far into the construction process when he recognized the mistake and he had quite a bit of remodeling to do. The final result is a little building with doors that slide open and shut. Hayden got a new pack of baseball cards on Friday and there was one in the pack that he knew Max would just love. So, the Lego is almost finished now, and Hayden is going to hide that baseball card behind the closed doors as an extra surprise for Max.

I share this story here because I never, ever want to forget it. This moment will live in my heart forever, instead of the multitude of moments when those two boys are ready to squish each other.

In my mind's eye, Max will walk through the door late tonight and immediately recognize the thoughtfulness and generosity with which this gesture was intended. He will not be the slightest bit concerned that I gave Hayden permission to touch his Christmas Legos while he was out of town. He won't have time to give it a thought given that he will be blinded by a tidal wave of thankfulness and a full realization that this construction process has occupied the better part of our weekend. There will be hugging and thank yous.

I believe everything but the hugging part. In my heart of heart I know this will have a happy ending because life with little boys always plays out exactly like I think it will. Expectations are met and often exceeded and birds sing and the sun shines and everyone takes a shower and smells good and hangs up their own towel and then they all go off to do their own laundry.

Yes, life with kids is easy. As easy as picking out pillows at the Pottery Barn.