An Environment of Obedience

Today we visited St. Raphael in Iowa City for their altar feast (first Saturday of November: St. Raphael of Brooklyn).  Since we all travelled together and my husband always wants to be in time for Orthros, the kids and I were in and out of the sanctuary quite a bit.  In their bookstore, there was a little booklet I hadn't seen before called On the Upbringing of Children by Bishop Irenaius.  Lucia hadn't had any breakfast, so I fed her a breakfast bar and skimmed the chapter on obedience.

Bishop Irenaius (of Ekaterinburg and Sibirsk) wrote that if the environment is not one of obedience, then any lessons in obedience will not take root in the child.  That is, the parents must obey God, the Church, and the laws of man.  He also spoke of showering the child with love as well as tolerating only prompt obedience from the child.

Recently I have been pondering the meaning and practicing of love.  If I say I love my children, but only feel lovingly towards them and do not act lovingly towards them, how can I mean what I say?

I fall down on the job so many times, it is hard to see that I am ever rising to struggle forward.

I want our children to become good Christian adults, and that is enough of a motivation to wash the dishes, run the laundry, and scrape up the layers of debris which have collected over the office and living room (layer one: crayons, layer two: laundry, layer three: an entire box of stationery) so that everyone will have bright and cheerful rooms to greet them when they come downstairs.  Okay, so that at least the first person (probably Lucia) will have bright and cheerful rooms to greet her when she comes downstairs, and everyone else will have at least a brief reprieve from stepping on crayons and looking for socks and slipping on pieces of paper.  ...although it was pretty funny to watch Lucia struggle to wear Teddy's underwear on her head, pull the waistband over her eyes, and then snuggle up to Daddy as though she'd accomplished everything on her to-do list for the day.

I may not fall and get up and fall and get up, but at least I can creep forward on hands and knees.

Adventures in Homeschooling ... and stuff

I am a great waffler on homeschooling. I think it's a marvellous idea. I just don't know whether it's a good fit for either me or for Teddy.

Recently, I read an article suggested by an esteemed friend regarding homeschooling and socialization.

I remember looking over my Montessori "report cards" from when I was small and seeing non-standard subjects. So I thought about what subjects I'd like Teddy to cover right now and came up with a few: reading, writing, arithmetic, life skills (cooking, cleaning, laundry), beauty (art, nature, music, dance), and religion. I jotted down an age-appropriate goal or activity to go with each section.

Since my husband will be out of town for the next couple of days, I figured that making a schedule for my day would be useful. Today has gone quite well. I'm glad that I put in meal preparation times, and am being flexible with myself. (We didn't take a walk this morning, sending Dadda off on his trip instead, and I was late going on errands and couldn't find the blasted lightbulb (bought others which don't fit the little icon light), so we'll go shopping for foods tomorrow.)

My current goals for Teddy:
*reading: putting letters together, like a hornbook sort of thing; maybe I'll try the second lesson tomorrow
*writing: tracing letters; I need to be more prepared for this, as Teddy only wanted to copy the dots. Maybe I can print something out from here
*arithmetic: counting physical items; Teddy tends to keep on going with the numbers, so there may be three items, but he'll count to eleven or twelve
*life skills:
**cooking: we made banana bread today; Teddy loves watching anything about baking
**cleaning: pick up toys and dust baseboards; he's getting better about the first, and I thought he might enjoy something with a dustrag which would save me some bending over; I haven't introduced the latter yet
**laundry: put away clothes; he's pretty good about moving laundry between baskets and machines, but after it's out of the dryer, it usually ends up on the couch for a few days
*beauty:
**art: look at children's art books; haven't pulled any of the multitudes we have yet
**nature: take a walk; oh, well; we'll try again tomorrow
**music: match pitch; I felt like I should have a goal, but he started singing along with the Romanian Christmas carol cd, so I felt progress was made
**dance: clap on beat; again with the need to have a goal, but maybe we'll try this when I watch more Jeeves and Wooster tonight - there's fun music!
*religion:
**icon identification: he picked up on St. Savas last night from a church school display, and did pretty well with St. Barbara and St. Nicholas
**prayers by heart: he was shouting "Agios athanatos, eleison imas!" earlier, so I'll just slow down the usual bedtime prayers
**listen to Mama read the Gospel: oh, yeah, I forgot to do that this morning because I slept in almost a full hour

I think the hardest thing about the Montessori ideas is "a prepared environment" ... and close after that "a prepared teacher." I am trying to make sure that he knows what clean and tidy is ... and thinks it's normal. I wish this were the case for me. Thank goodness for "Auntie Leila"!

Husband just called to report the delivery of both NSP newsletters to the Metropolis and grandmother's chairs to aunt's house!

How long does it take roofers to put a new roof on and why do they seem to work the loudest during Teddy's naptime?

Looking for things, I cleared off an entire section of kitchen counter which just looks and feels wonderful. This is not the kitchen reorganization I was thinking of doing over the next three days, but it's nice to have the dishes done and a whole flat surface to just ... be flat with nothing on it. (I have a tray of miscellany, but moved that somewhere that was already cluttered so I could have a little bit more of success right now.)

I think it is time for a snack, as I am unable to focus. Either that, or I've run out of things to say.

On Waiting and Worth

So this weekend (and today, as it turns out) we've been waiting for important news. We're not allowed to say quite a bit at this point (see: tearing hair out), but we're expecting to hear either that we're ready to move ahead on a whole bunch of work, or we're still going to do some work before we're even at that stage of the game.

Fortunately, this weekend our parish hosted the Metropolis of Atlanta St. John Chrysostom oratorical festival. I got to see Presvytera Christine Salzman, who is wonderful, and I met Presvytera Georgia Metropulos, who is also wonderful. (Ahh, basking in unexpected presvyteres memories.) On Saturday, I attempted to have Teddy take a nap (mostly failed) so we could go with the group on an hour-and-a-half dolphin-sighting boat tour (completely awesome, especially for Teddy). We also got to hang out with some very tall priests (Frs. Grigorios Tatsis and James Berends) on the beach. Teddy threw sand, covered himself in sand, lay down and immersed himself in sand, was slightly buried in sand, ran in the sand, and came home with lots of sand and a beach ball. I love being prepared with changes of clothes. On Sunday it rained, and Teddy went out in it to the point where I just took off most of his clothes and let him go for it. (Did I mention loving having changes of clothes?)

However, with the Very Important Call not going to come on the weekend, I still had plenty of nervous energy. So I worked on my to-do list. I have a love-hate relationship with my to-do list. I really love having things written down, as I have a terrible memory, and things niggle at the back of my head (I've got something Important to do ... what is it?). On the other hand, when I *don't* get things done (hello, the internet), I get depressed and pessimistic and feel worthless in general.

But. With the Very Important Call looming, we decided to pray more. So I had my husband pull out a paraklesis booklet from the heap by the icon corner (yes, "tidy and dust the icon corner" has been a repeat entry on the to-do list for a few months now, and is becoming more important as Teddy's reach and curiosity expand exponentially || I have also added "find *small* paraklesis book" to the to-do list as all we could find is the great paraklesis book), and we started using it. Then I realized that, although I drag my feet when it comes to morning prayers, adding a reader's service of the great paraklesis makes me like doing the morning prayers *and* gets my day off to a better start (oh, hush. days can start at noon, right?); I never thought that adding prayers would make me like praying more. Maybe singing them has something to do with it.

Getting things done on my to-do list has really helped my sense of self, most especially my nightly routine. I've had "put away dishes, clean Teddy's chair, wipe counters, and tidy for 15 minutes" on the daily list literally for months without doing them systematically. I did all of those things last night and it was like a drug. I FELT LIKE A WORTHWHILE HUMAN BEING AGAIN. No more moping, feeling oppressed from all the things I have to do (okay, packing boxes and ahaha planning a neighborhood yard sale impinge on that a bit), and no more feeling like I never get anything done: if I can just trust the self who writes out the list, stop thinking, and just follow what I wrote, I might actually be able to be a grown up (eventually). Just don't ask me to eat the shrimp. That's grown-up food.

Falling and Getting Up

It's almost 2 p.m. I haven't even gotten dressed or brushed my hair yet. I ought to eat lunch. I'm continuing to write my to-do list while Teddy is napping. (A scheduled naptime when Mommy is tiredest in the day is a beautiful thing.)

The house is a mess. I feel wretched and achy, and am wondering whether this is a new cold or just a resurgence of the one I brought back from MN.

Aqua Zumba did not go well last night, since Teddy could see me but couldn't get to me which resulted in both of us being miserable until I went over to the little pool, Fr. Peter didn't get his full swim in (Presanctified Liturgy was in the morning, so he didn't get his morning swim), and ... okay, it was just a lot harder than regular Zumba without the water resistance. So I'm probably not going to go to another Aqua Zumba for a while. I'm undecided on tonight's Zumba class.

I've been enjoying rereading favorite books (Harper Hall trilogy by Anne McCaffrey, and will start some Robin McKinley today) while I've been feeling low, and might have to be more conscious about how what I read affects my mood.

Yesterday was one sister's birthday, and I'm still working on getting her what she asked for for Christmas (a family portrait).

I will rest, but I will not give up. My house will be messy, my baby will be cranky, and I will be exhausted ... and that's okay. I will continue to write out my to-do list, and I will continue to keep going. By the grace of God, I will get up when I fall. Sometimes it takes me a little longer than others.

September 9

I really need a new keyboard, one that doesn't require movement from the shoulder to get the lower line of letters and the space bar to come through.

Today was the Tampa Bay presvyteres' meeting, which went pretty well. (Just the Greek Orthodox presvyteres from the Tampa Bay vicarship.) We had eight presvyteres and Teddy, and it was lovely to see the other seven presvyteres. Next week many of us will get together in Winter Haven for the patronal feast of St. Sophia.

Fr. Peter dropped me and Teddy off at home, and Teddy went straight to bed. (He'd missed a couple of naps.) I don't know what happened to the 2.5 hours before Fr. Peter came home from work, but I didn't rest enough and started getting symptoms of something. I took an antihistamine and drank lots of sports drink and water.

I started getting things done that I'd skipped in my morning routine (watering plants, making the bed, etc.), and realized that I wanted to skip swimming. I told my husband and then I got to look forward to some uninterrupted me-time while the boys went to the pool.*

*Teddy can swim to the wall from at least six feet away.

I did laundry. I put the Project 365 photos up. I worked in the yard. I cleaned the bathroom. I watched NCIS. (Aren't commercials little breaks so you'll go do housework?) I tidied the living room.

I still have a huge list of things to do, but I feel so much better.

Part of my morning routine is putting my hair up. It's really surprising how much more ready and efficient I feel just by doing that. Also, I love that I don't have to worry about it once it's up: two French braids and a clip, and it doesn't move.

Living

This baby thing sure is turning out to be a lot of hard work. Of course, I didn't really appreciate the 6:30am wake-up after having settled into a routine with a wake-up at 8am, but I got all the errands and the laundry done before lunch, thanks to my wonderful husband who took the baby almost all morning.

I have been struggling to keep the house in order. Any kind of order. As it is the first of June (Happy Rabbit Rabbit Day!), I am starting another month's worth of work. (I would have started planning this weekend, but on Saturday we had community clean-up day at church followed by basketball, and Sunday had a pan-Orthodox (non-fasting) gathering and a graduation party. This is also the reason Teddy-o's schedule is off.)

I am currently reading Home Comforts: The Art and Science of Keeping House by Cheryl Mendelson, and am struck by how funnily and well she writes as well as the very idea that ... she likes keeping house. And that I might, too, once I figure out what I'm doing. I've already noticed that I don't stress about our laundry or shopping, since I know that happens on Mondays. (Oh, drat, as does cleaning the bathroom, which hasn't miraculously done anything on its own.) I laugh at some of her ideas, but at the same time realize that if I did get on a schedule, I might actually do some of those crazy things, like taking out the trash and sanitizing the trash can every day. But at this point, anything is better than nothing.

I like sitting down with my husband and talking about what he wants and what I want and how we can get there. (Sometimes the first two vary widely from the second, and we need Jeeves, alas, who is nowhere to be found.) I like making lists and knowing what's going to happen before it's on top of me. I am getting better at realizing that after a month, if I don't, the lower-priority tasks (dutifully copied onto the next day's to-do list) can simply be relinquished to the overall to-do list. (I have two separate steno pads: one was started after I could think again after giving birth ... although most of the time I'd find the pad and realize I had no idea what the idea was, two seconds later; the other is a to-do list which gets, usually, longer and longer as the month goes on, although occasionally I do cross things off. The main to-do list has the left-hand column for repeated daily tasks (weigh, water plants, exercise) and the right-hand column for specific tasks for that day (and lots snowballing from previous days). The right-hand column is divided into broad priorities: things which should happen today and important; tasks of medium importance; and other things I'd like to do sometime but thought of today so I should put them down before the thought leaves entirely. An example of the latter I completed today: research velcro. (See? How many times would your mind tell you to do that?)

I am also putting together a husband-and-wife-generated wishlist of what things should be accomplished each week, attempting to establish actual daily and weekly routines. Then there's a sheet of paper with all the days of June listed in the middle: on the left are feasts and birthdays and whatnot, and on the right will be various cleaning tasks. (Today, for example, I am cleaning behind the refrigerator; evidently the previous tenants had dogs, as that is what the vacuum cleaner smells like now. I will have to make a second attack on the remnant sludge. ugh.)

On a somewhat related note, putting my hair up does wonders for how I feel, and what I feel I can accomplish. It's just two French braids, twisted and secured with a large clip, but it's cool (temperature-wise, though others seem to like it as well, or at least better than my previous non-style) and, my favorite part, it STAYS PUT. This means that I do not have to feel self-conscious about taking out a scrunchie and putting my hair back in it (in church, oh, cringe) or worrying how quickly I can do that and whether Teddy will reach whatever exciting piece of something before I have my hands free again.

I am looking forward (still) to the Metropolis of Atlanta Clergy-Laity Conference. I am only in charge (and only somewhat in charge) of the ice cream social for the presvyteres. Yes, that does mean Blue Bell. And yes, I bought it on sale. And there's a good chance that there will be more half-gallons than people attending, but you can never have too much Blue Bell. (Well, okay, but I haven't eaten any since February. I have been Very Good. It's starting to hurt a bit now.) I am excited at the prospect of seeing friends from seminary, and introducing them to Teddy and vice versa, and seeing how their little ones are not so little any more, and just being with them.

I'm a really horrible correspondent, but I think about people almost all day long. I wish there were a program or a method or something-involving-lists to improve my correspondence skills. I can do thank-you notes (there's another list on a steno pad, and a note on my regular to-do list), but somehow I am intimidated by just emailing back. What if the other person thinks I'm irritating, or pushy? (I'd probably get told so, and wouldn't have to worry about it.) And then I move on to other things rather than respond right away ... And then it's later and I realize I never responded to the email and it's three months gone, and the guilt simply piles up.

Well, there are dishes in the sink, and my skin is telling me to move the thermostat so it's below 80, and I need to take just one more little peek at my little fellow who hasn't made a sound for a few hours now. Please keep me in your prayers.

Lists and Miscellany

I'm a big fan of lists. The giant, leaping thoughts of "Gee, I really need to get this done, but not right now" have a place to go, so I can hold onto them. My brain was especially bad after the baby was born, so I just got a stenographer's notebook (just like my dad used to use for his notes) to make a list of things I needed to remember.

Today I finally took a few hours and tried on all my clothes, after putting most of the maternity clothing in the suitcase. (I had one in the laundry, one I'd never worn, and one in the car ... but I'm not sure I can close the suitcase again without help.) There's quite a bit of clothing which I can't get into, some things which I'll be donating, and lots of extra hangers (as opposed to the previous none for guests). I have hanging in the closet seven skirts and two dresses which either fit or fit well enough to be used in case of emergency. I have no pants (except one pair of drawstring) which fit, but three pairs of shorts which fit ... more or less. I have way too many shirts, especially white ones, and I'm not sure why I keep holding onto the ones which are nice, but I don't like them. So there may be further purging after my husband gets home, with his extra brain cells. I do have one pair of nice pants which fits, but until it snows in Florida, I won't be wearing them. (Augh!) So eventually I will be going shopping again. I have lots and lots of baby clothes to return (he still has more than I do), and plenty of gift cards, so that's all right, but I would rather shop in the thrift stores anyhow. It's more fun, and it seems easier to find things which I both like and can fit into. (Also a good place to get clean, ironed shirts for my husband. Score!)

I am a bit leery of the coming week. Today is my day to clean the house and get things ready, but little yowly boy has been confusing me. I think he wants to eat, so I try to feed him, but he screeches and screeches until I get so sick of it that I put him back to bed. Which is what he wanted. Poor thing.

Saturday we're going to the monastery to get the icons and baptismal favors. Sunday there's Liturgy. Monday there's Liturgy, picking up Paul (godfather-to-be) at the airport, calling people (Presvytera Georget, the dentist to reschedule the appointments, and the OB/GYN about the refund), possibly going swimming at the pool, and a hierarchical dinner thingy. (Maybe there's a vespers somewhere?) Tuesday there's Orthros and Liturgy in Tarpon Springs, with all its festivities, then rest (maybe) and on to Tampa for their church's festal vespers. Wednesday is Tampa's festal Orthros and Liturgy, greeting my mother from the airport, and picking up Thanasi (our seminarian for the GOYA Winter Event this year) from the airport. Thursday is the long-awaited baptism and taking Paul back to the airport. It gets less hectic after that, since I am not planning on going to the Winter Event, but I will still have a houseguest (and my mother, who is staying in a nearby hotel), and, of course, the laundry.

We will attempt to watch a Jane Austen (about, not of) movie tonight, and I may figure out a bit more of Traveling With Infant airline stuff. (Advice welcome; please comment.) After that, we're off and running with no time to look back. Thank goodness there's the Holy Spirit. (Yes, that's redundant, but it's still nice.)

Of course we'll have a washing machine!

(Catchy catching-up-related blurb here.)

My mother wanted to make sure she could wash her clothes at our house, to cut down on the things she was bringing to her first visit (of the three planned for this year so far), as she was bringing plenty of baby things from herself and from my older-middle sister, bringing things from her trip to Turkey and Greece, and from our house going to stay with her college friend who lives in Washington state. Oh, and then there was a hurricane headed for her house, so she also decided to take the Important Papers (titles, deeds, and whatnot—can't leave without the whatnot), just in case.

We had enjoyed our washing machine for just over a year (ominous warranty-free period should tip you off), and at the beginning of the week Tita* was supposed to arrive it stopped doing the fast spin at the end. That wasn't too bad, since it was just to get the water out, and the dryer would just have to work harder. But then the door started refusing to open. (As in, on separate occasions, I spent two 5-minute attempts, my husband a 5-minute attempt, and my mother a vain 20-minute attempt, trying different settings and persuasive tactics just to get our clothes back.)

*My father grew up in Brasil. He wanted his children to call their parents "Papa" and "Mamacita." When my older-older sister was little, she couldn't say "Mamacita," instead saying "Tita." I'm the third child, so it was already settled. Sorry if it sounds like I'm talking about my aunt, but that's just the way it is, yo.

Then my husband noticed a little ratty head peeking out from behind the washer one day. So we called the washing machine repairman, mentioning all these details. Fortunately, my mother was visiting, since we had an OB appointment during the time the repairman came. From what I understand, she got him to take off the bottom panel of the washing machine. Voila! Rats' nest! They'd chewed through the wiring that made it do the final spin. And then some other wiring, too. It would cost $100 more to repair the washing machine than we'd spent on it in the first place.

So my mother helped us buy a new washing machine (with a sanitary cycle specifically for things like diapers), *with* the Sears service agreement. (The salesman specifically said it was *not* an extended warranty, but better, since we'd also get yearly preventative check-ups.) And it's EnergyStar, which thrills my husband no end. We're still figuring out the Star Trek technology to use it ... and I've grown up enough to at least separate the whites from the coloreds. (It wasn't really an issue: all our clothes were old and washed enough that nothing would ever bleed again.) Two of the maintenance guys from church went to Sears with my husband and loaded it in their truck and basically delivered it for us, even taking away the packing material and refusing any sort of payment. (Just wait. We'll get them at Christmas. And until then with baked goods.)

But.

There was still the rat problem. In the wall behind the washer and dryer, there is a ... pipe thingy. It's definitely large enough to let a rat in ... and we knew that a rat had leapt inside it to get away from the danger of my 6'2" husband. If we simply plugged it up, who knows how many rats would die inside, though? So, again with my mother's guidance, we bought sticky traps. A few hours later: two rats in the trap between the washer and dryer. My husband had the misfortune to be the dispatcher. We found that our Chlorox spray (bathroom cleaner stuff?) is good at removing rat blood from the garage floor. (I cowered in the house. Thank goodness my mother was here.)

My mother insisted that we check for future infestation *each week* which we thought was a bit excessive. Nonetheless, I put it on the calendar for each Saturday morning. When we replaced the week-old sticky trap (which had caught a ginormous spider and a huge lizard), we again caught another rat in a few hours. Then another one the next day. When my husband went to pay the rent check, he mentioned our rat problem. We had thought that we were on the hook for "infestations," but happily found out that that was for small things, and *they* would take care of things like rats and mice. So we had Bernie come out and set snap traps (we have our sticky traps out still, but not in the prime locations). He also filled in the rat-hole/pipe with steel wool which I'd bought. (Supposedly they aren't supposed to like getting it on their feet?) Now, naturally, none of the traps have caught anything. Which is dandy with me.

So my mother had quite an adventurous few days with us. The rest of the time, when we weren't making yet another trek to Target, she sanded and painted the frame of Great-Aunt Margaret's lounge chair, reorganized the linen closet, and, most importantly, organized my overflowing boxlid of photographs into tidy albums. And ate quite a bit of the peppermint ice cream which had been purchased with her in mind.

After Tita left, I was inspired enough with the whole organizing thing to re-do the rest of the hall closet, and later the pantry. Yesterday, NESTING took over in the nursery. (I was trying to accomplish the to-do list item "sanitize baby blocks"—the ones which had been my mother's when she was little—and I ended up reorganizing things.) The drop-leaf table is now tucked perfectly into a corner in the dining room, the two-drawer chest is also in the dining room (a bit tight, but now the spacing matches the rest of the house, and we don't use the dining room all that much, anyhow). The boxes of genealogy and music found a place in our closet, and the crib is set up. We have a plan for rotating the twin bed, moving the little bookcases, taking down the six-foot table (now that there's nothing under it! *Snoopy dance*), moving the dresser, and adding Papa's platform rocker from the living room. There's actually room for Bunny! Now we should probably think about buying things like sheets and clothing and diapers.

Nursery Update

When we moved into this house, we picked our "master bedroom" because it was close to the bathroom with a bathtub. The other two rooms were the guest room and the nursery. Then the nursery was no longer needed, so we renamed them the green room and the pink room (based on the sheets we had for the double bed and the twin bed). The pink room was pretty much the junk room, and I felt I had achieved a great deal because all the junk of the house (excepting the boxes of china and other boxed inheritance thingies, tucked into closets, wardrobes, and corners) was contained in one room.

Then we needed a nursery again. In the junk room. So I plowed through. (When o-o sis came to visit, she helped quite a bit.) Fr. Peter refinished a wardrobe (which still needs a bit of work: there are no panels in the doors so you can see everything inside, and the doors don't stay closed unless tied shut), and I put all the office supplies in there to clear off the six-foot table so I could continue sorting things. I organized the books in the whole house, keeping the children's books in this room. I got all the paper files into the filing cabinets. I sorted through inheritances. (Why I felt the need to keep Grandma's unfinished knitting projects with and without instructions, I have no idea. But they are on hand in case of a knitting emergency. And in case I figure out how to knit more than a rectangle, assuming I remember that much.) And I sorted through the music boxes. And I shoved genealogical materials into filing cabinets ... and left the rest in boxes. And I sorted through my art supplies. And I sorted out photos, memorabilia, puzzles, baby things, and miscellany. (Pink bunny ears are rather difficult to categorize.)

Now I am down to two boxes of miscellany, about six boxes of music, several of genealogy, some extra photos (not yet in albums), puzzles, memorabilia, and baby things. There's an extra trunk-like thing with VHS tapes (we gave away our VCR before moving here) and audio tapes. There's a drop-leaf table. The bed is covered with a car seat, the box of knitting and other fabric things from Grandma, and empty boxes (in case I need them for sorting, I don't want them *all* broken down). The six-foot table is still up, holding the puzzles, stamp covers (I mean packages covered in stamps ... I used to keep them for my father and I can't quite bear to throw them out.), photos, baby things, and my "to file" pile; the table is covering the boxes of music and genealogy materials which won't fit into the closet. Other than that, there's a baby dresser blocking access to the two little bookshelves (and somewhat to the wardrobe), and there's no room to put up the crib until we can figure out where the drop-leaf table and the trunk-like thing can go.

As you may have guessed, I am much more enamored of talking about it and making lists about it rather than moving things out of the way. I'm pretty sure that the trunk-like thing will find a home in the living room, and the drop-leaf table in the guest bedroom. If I am exceptionally clever in cleaning out our own bedroom closet, there may be room for boxes in there, so we can take down the six-foot table (alas for such a lovely workspace) and have room for the crib, the dresser, and even some play space on the floor. Nevermind that I also want to bring in the two little cabinety things from the guest room. I guess I'll just hang around and wait for more of that "nesting" energy to come my way.

Sisterly visitation

(Catching up is hard to do-ooh...)

My older-older sister visited during the first full week of July, driving down from Augusta, Georgia. Since I have two older sisters, to differentiate, the older of the two (who is also older than I) has hereby been designated as "older-older." In case you care.

I didn't realize that she came primarily to WORK. (This is usually the case in my family, but I'm more often the one pressed into labor. "Oh, you're here. You can start with the fridge and then there's some laundry ...") So o-o sis carted nursery furniture* from a parishioner's house in her giant beast of a car (not quite an SUV, but it made it with everything in just two trips). And she attacked the weeds in the car.** And I can find things in our hall closet. (Dang, we have a lot of light bulbs.) She inspired me to keep going on things around the house, too, after she'd gone, so the paperwork in the nursery is all in the filing cabinet (or in a pile of things "to be filed" which I am getting to, five items at a time), and the miscellany has been reduced to two smallish boxes. (I mean, really, how do you categorize pink bunny ears, old marching drill charts, and commemorative pins from the Atlanta Olympics which I visited with Papa?)

*It's a full suite of nursery furniture. White. Matching. All because their little girl got her "big girl" furniture. These people will be on our prayer list for years to come. The glider and nursing stool are set up right under the fan in front of the prayer corner, and Bunny just loves rocking throughout our home Parakleses.

**Update: My husband pointed out that she removed no weeds from the car, and did not use the car to attack the weeds in the yard. When do I get my brain back, did they say?

All in all, o-o sis and I had a much better visit than I had expected. Except that she liked buying me things. Edible things. I *kinda* went over my calories-per-day quite a bit. I did stabilize after she'd gone, though, being careful to not try to *lose* weight at this point. (I mean, there's Blue Bell in the house, so that would just be silly.)

Oh, yeah ... minions

So I can't blog any more, because pregnancy hormones, old age, aliens stealing my brain, and metal fatigue have caused me to completely not remember any reason for blogging when I sit down to do it. And then I'm hungry. And then I have to go to the bathroom. And then I have to go lie down and rest.

So I asked my husband what I was going to blog about. (I don't know why, but he's good at that sort of thing quite often.) His response: "Minions!"

Which reminded me that I get "youth minions" to help me out when I'm doing the music and dance portion of Vacation Bible School. I am hoping to replace some of the cheesier songs with a few from Fr. Christodoulos' cd (they're niftier and they're specifically Orthodox, and much less "Jesus is my boyfriend" vibe-y).

In other news, I cleaned the whole bathroom in one go after feebly attempting this feat for over a month. Go me! (Unfortunately we have two bathrooms, and the other one is simply withering the buildup of dust!)

Oh, yeah... I have a blog.

Well, I feel like I've been called out, thanks to Fr. Athanasios.

So I could maybe link to my other blog, the current subject of which is due in September, God willing.

Recently, I've been doing the pregnancy thing. I'm not sure why it's called "morning sickness," since the medical term seems to be the Latin for "vomiting of pregnancy" (charming, eh?). In any case, I seem to be sticking with my father's joke: "Well, it's morning somewhere." Consequently, I have not been doing much of anything. I have only just started to feel better ... except that whenever I *do* start to feel better, the rest of the day goes downhill and my husband has his moaning wife back again.

My birthday was this past Friday. My husband had already gotten me the totally awesome present of the first two Monkey Island games, and baked the usual Lenten-chocolate-cake-and-icing-from-scratch which looks lumpy but tastes wonderful (well, it's chocolate). My mother, with true insight, got me a duct tape wallet kit. Fr. James gave me my husband for the entire afternoon, which we spent watching basketball on television (and computer). I treated myself to attending the Akathist hymn at church in the evening.

Hopefully, my husband will post a version of his sermon from yesterday on his blog. Meanwhile, I will take another moaning break with some ginger ale. I mean, get back to cleaning the house. (How did we get so much stuff packed into what's going to be the baby's room anyhow?)

Saturday, August 25

So I found The Lazy Organizer following a link from Parent Hacks to GNMParents to her site, and really liked the "SMART Saturday" idea. I made a list of daily things I wanted to accomplish and kept track of them, and here's how I did, from Sunday afternoon through Friday:

*Wake up 7:30 - Averaged 7:50 (6:34 to 8:38)
*Prayer and Scripture - 5/5
*Make bed - 5/5
*Get dressed - 5/5
*Eyes/teeth/face - 5/5
*Hair and make-up - 5/5
*Laundry check - 4/5
*Flower check - 5/5
*Eat breakfast - 5/5
*15 min to-do - 5/6
*15 min declutter - 4/6
*15 min zone - 1/6
*15 min to-do - 3/6
*Eat lunch - 6/6
*Prepare dinner - 2/6
*Dishes check - 6/6
*Vitamin - 4/6
*Exercise - 4/6
*Eyes/teeth/face - 5/6
*Prayer - 6/6
*Bed 9:30 - Averaged 10:46 (9:40 to 11:43)
*Lights out 10 - Averaged 11:13 (10:28 to 12:46)
85/106=80%; times: 2 hours, 49 minutes late.

I guess that's not too bad. I think I do better with just having a checklist. The 15-minute entries in the middle of the day are to keep me on track throughout the day. I have a "focus" of what I'd like to do from my to-do list, which, this week, is retyping the Baptismal service for Fr. Peter so he can have it in the order he likes, without having to flip through the entire book. "Decluttering" right now just means unpacking; "zone" means actual cleaning; the other "15 min to-do" means taking something else from the to-do list, separate from the main focus. I did eight things on the to-do list (and not the main focus) on Thursday, but I don't think it's fair to put them on other days: I just get to enjoy having them done, and not have to look at them on the list any more.

In other news, my father-in-law is finishing his second week here with us before returning to his work in Nigeria. My mother visited on Thursday-Friday-Saturday, and took him and me to the Florida Aquarium in Tampa, which was much better than I had thought it would be. We also went on the "Behind the Scenes Tour" and got to watch a girl feed the fish, and the Eco-Tour and managed to see a few brief glimpses of dolphins as well as the many birds ... nevermind just enjoying being out on a boat for an hour and a half. (Yes, I put on sunscreen before and after, and yes, I'm still as red as a lobster.) My favorite part were the otters, even though the "Behind the Scenes" tourguide said they were mean. They were also show-offs, doing flips any time anyone looked their way.

Yesterday was my (late) father's birthday. I used my new colorful stationery to send out cards to my niece, nephews, and sister, using the stamps my mother got with Papa's face on them (and was able to get them hand-cancelled by a nice lady at the post office). Since he is not using his birthday any more, I am very happy someone I know is! Gabi has a newborn little sister, and they are sharing a new blog.

Saturday: eleven more weeks

Today was fun. I got to sleep in. I succeeded in eating less (than everything, which is how much I usually want to eat, but still) and drinking more water. I played on orthodoxwiki which I hadn't in a while. I edited some of the ethics assignments which have been posted, made a couple of new pages for saints, and put some links between the Romanian and English pages, until the wiki broke, at least.

We also got out of the house today. The reason? To get soybeans. I asked Virgil what I should wear. He asked me whether I had any jeans that fit. So we went to Savers instead of getting soybeans. (Also, I tried on all my pants and skirts and packed up several items with the half-a-box of VHS tapes and took an entire box to Savers! One less to pack!) We bought wooden hangers (6), a picture frame, a sweater, a shirt, two dresses, and a pair of jeans. I didn't even need to look at the books because I had received a giant bagful from Emily last week, and I'm happily reading a historical fiction trilogy by Pamela Kaufman.

We had Fr. Kahaber over for dinner, and he played the guitar for us afterwards.

Happy.

Cleaning and Baklava

A little garden on our bedroom windowsill.

In about twenty minutes, Vassi will head over and start teaching me to make baklava. (This is part of the payment for the railing down the hill to the lower married student housing parking lot; Southeast Railing donated much of it, but the owner said he would like that one Greek pastry with the honey and nuts.)

Some preparations for baklava.

In preparation, we obviously needed to clean the kitchen ... rather drastically, since there will be at least two people working in there and there's almost no counter space. Also, about a week or two ago, we (okay, I) decided (it was necessary) to rearrange the living room. Following FlyLady's ideals, I decided it wouldn't be worth my time to rearrange the clutter. I went through (with Dn. Virgil's help) several boxes, pulling things out of drawers (where I'd thrown them for unannounced company, or when I was tired of looking at them). I got rid of 5 boxes' worth of unecessary papers.* We still have more to go (which were unearthed today), but it's wonderfully liberating, and now there's room.

*If you don't have answers to things like: "Why am I keeping two copies of Notre Dame commencement exercise booklets wherein there are three names of people I know?" then you are allowed to get rid of it. Even then, it was still hard. I'm *good* at keeping.

We turned Dn. Virgil's desk around, moved mine into the corner (previously storage) with the (so lovely!**) filing cabinet. The couch went where my desk went. The comfy chair and ottoman went where the couch was, opening up the icon corner.

** Yes, I'm a dork, but it was a great Christmas present, and I can have an "away" in which to put things!








Top left: Dn. Virgil's corner; top right: my corner; bottom right: couch; bottom left: our new "mail station"; center: comfy chair and framed Panagia icon sketch (by the teacher of last summer's iconography class).

Dn. Virgil has been fully on board, cleaning the kitchen and his corner looks amazing. He's taken out lots of trash (although I was out the door first, having followed (again) FlyLady's advice on getting dressed to lace-up shoes). He clarified the bookshelves in the living room, and taken loads of things downstairs to storage (ready for the move or to be sorted later after further consideration). Also this past week, he's prepared my first computer (Cicero) to be given away by moving all the files and miscellany onto his computer and checking the 3.5" disks (you know, in case I need old papers from classes I don't even remember). I'm not emotionally ready to give away my old computer, but I'm not using it, and someone else may need it, and I don't want to have to move it.

Also this morning, when Dn. Virgil was taking out a towel to shake out on the balcony, we saw deer (he saw six, and I got a picture of one on the camera and saw three at a time) moving through the woods.

My "shot" of a deer.

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Later: The baklava has been layered and is in the fridge, cooling. All the cleaning and baking involved lots of standing, and I am thus exhaustifyied.