A Pattern of Words

This little breakfast sitting nook is one of the first spaces I created after we moved into our house and, to be perfectly honest, it doesn’t get utilized as much and as well as I’d like. The chairs aren’t very comfortable (I snagged them off the side of the road when a neighbor put them out, so I can’t complain too much about that) and the table space is a bit too shallow for an adult to eat here. It mostly gets used as a “where all the junk gathers” desk sort of space. I’ve been thinking about how I can make it more useful and have had several ideas. Idea one: continue using it as an overflow eating space, but ditch the four uncomfortable chairs and get two stools that are actually pleasant to sit on (only having two would make it easier to pull them in and out and give sitters more elbow room). Bonus: maybe space would get used more? But sitting here doesn’t give you full access to the kitchen, so I think that hampers kids’ desire to be there. I do sit here and eat lunch occasionally just to avoid the arguing happening at the actual dining room table, but it doesn’t happen *that* often. Also, we didn’t know what we didn’t know when we moved in and we put down the cheapest linoleum possible thinking that we would be renovating within the year…this didn’t happen and the linoleum has NOT held up well. It’s tearing in places and stained where the chairs touch the ground. Switching out the chairs would highlight these defects. That said, if we truly aren’t renovating the kitchen for a decade+, then addressing the floors will have to happen sooner rather than later. Idea two: ditch all chairs and build storage underneath and above the counter space. This would be great, because I do need more storage. If it worked perfectly, I could ditch the shelf by the window and create a comfortable desk space there that kids could use for drawing. Negatives of this plan: money being poured into a space that *eventually* I’d like to gut. But gutting probably wouldn’t happen for a decade at least. Idea three: Combination of the first two ideas. Swap chairs for two comfortable stools, keep the seating area in the bottom half, but add shelving to the top half. Even just two shelves (our ceilings are quite high) would give space for storage (albeit dust collecting storage). This would NOT be enough space to get rid of the shelves by the window, so that would eliminate the possibility of creating a kids’ nook there.

Thoughts?

This is seven.

Showing off all the precious tchotchkes in her treasure box to an avid and jealous audience.

Despite the fact that no child will spend time alone in the basement (they’re all convinced a Black Widow lurks around every corner), they’re all perfectly content to make giant messes here together. I’m so grateful to have a room that can stay trashed without me constantly seeing it. (if you saw photographs of this space when we moved in – asbestos ceiling, puddles in the spring, massive centipedes, coal shoot and all – you’d understand my gratefulness!). It took a good bit of money and energy, but having a dry basement that can be utilized as a kid-overflow space is clutch at this stage in life.

R tending to E’s little cuts and bruises. (apparently the walk between our house and theirs is a treacherous one!)

Attack birthday kisses for the birthday Mamele (grandma). It was a low-key celebration this year: V (sister) and I went out for lunch at a downtown, rooftop restaurant with Mom, then gifts and dessert with kids and spouse at our place (D was on a guys’ trip to Chicago).

Mom’s birthday kicks off a lot: thoughts of spring as the weather warms and gardening themed gifts rule the pile of presents, realization that Lent is right around the corner (the day before P’s birthday, this year), the first in an onslaught of birthday celebrations (our family celebrates nine birthdays between the end of February and the beginning of May – the cake overload is real), and now also the annual grief that comes with the anniversary of my dad’s death (he went into the hospital a few days after my mom’s birthday and died on Ash Wednesday). It’s a weird time and I rather wish I could just check out for the month of March and come back at Easter. I’m grateful the grief gets less heavy every year, but I don’t know that I’ll ever enjoy this time of year.

I found this roll of coloring wrapping paper in the basement and E enthusiastically accepted the assignment. By the time we were ready to celebrate Mom’s birthday later the next day, an impressing number of rows had been carefully colored.

In the past six months or so, N’s favorite thing to do has been to perform for others – usually a combination of dancing and acrobatic feats. She usually has roughly forty-eight seconds of solo attention before her siblings discover the exhibition and crash it. This photo came ten seconds before ghost-clad (A) and shark-clad (P) bodies (there was an old Halloween costume interest that morning) zoomed onto the stage and the performance ended in tears.

It was a “makes me think of the good ol’ days!” morning. The kind where I text V at 7:40am and tell her to walk over with the kids for breakfast. She’s predictably late, I’m predictably low on the right toppings, the kids scarf food down and disappear to play Legos after using (predictably) way too much whipped cream, and we both end up sitting on the couch happily chatting until 1:20pm. (oops) I meant to do math with P? But playing hooky was way more fun.

For the first 7 or so years of parenting, I rarely had individual moments with kids (or so it seemed). It was more of a constant, full-pack, jibber-jabber of high pitched voices all demanding my full attention at the very same second for 24 hours a day. In the past year, though, I’ve started having more and more one-on-one times – both intentionally, and as a result of the kids’ having more classes and extracurriculars, AND (thank you, Jesus) because they’re finally hitting ages where I can leave them home alone. It’s rather fascinating seeing, when given solo time with me, which kid talks endlessly without pause (always A), which kid ponders deep life questions (P), which kid chatters delightedly about her own interests (N) and which kid takes the time to demand answers about things that bother her from way too long ago (E). “Mama, WHY did you screw my cup lid on too tight?” (me for the millionth time: “Because you’re spilling things five times a day) “Mama, WHERE are my Frozen pajamas?” (Me: “You outgrew them and we gave them to cousin R last fall, remember?”)