And.... Stretch!

You know that feeling you have when you know you need to stretch?  You can almost feel the stretch in your muscles, in your rib cage, wherever, and your body is practically itching to get it done?  Have you ever felt that mentally?

I've been feeling the need to stretch my mental and writing chops.  I don't know how, exactly, to do it though.  Should I write a short story?  Should I write a Bible study series? Heck, should I take inspiration from National Novel Writing Month, which, granted, we are nearing the end of that, and write a novel???  Okay, maybe that's a bit much.  How about a screen-play, then?  Obviously, I'm not looking to get published or anything, but I'd like a project.  Something I can do day by day and stretch myself, and I'm not sure what to do.  Or where to begin.  But I feel the itch.  And it needs to be obeyed.

Any suggestions?

Kitchen Angst

Yes, I do seem to have some angst these days, don't I?  And believe me, I have some real angst over some real issues currently, far weightier and more important than commercials and kitchens.  But it's those kind of issues that I admit, I don't want to delve into right now, as they truly do have my spirit disturbed and my heart bruised.  Maybe someday soon, I'll divulge.  But for now, will you let me rip on my kitchen?

I had grand and lofty ideas about cooking and homemaking when I got moved into my new place.  And believe me, I still want to take part in them.  But they may need some adjustment.  I still want to make my own granola bars, bake bread, have big cooking days where I can get several meals into the freezer at a time...  I still read Pioneer Woman and Heavenly Homemakers with some longing. But two realities have hit me: a) at the moment our freezer space is too pathetic to support the kind of cooking/eating lifestyle I wanted to provide to my family (though we're working on that), and b) I don't really enjoy being in my kitchen.

Our apartment kitchen isn't the stuff of dreams.  Shucks, it's not even the stuff of anti-stuff-of-dreams which can have a romance of its own (something like Julie/Julia where she cooks an entire year of gourmet meals in a tiny pathetic kitchen?).  When it comes down to it, I don't like being there.  There's a mouse (at least coming in and out) which has spoiled it for me.  It has very little (I can't stress that enough) counter space, even with the extra counter Nick has put up.  Sadly, I'm a woman who really needs to spread when she cooks.  I seem innately unable to control the littler and clutter that makes the kitchen look as if it's never clean, and sadly, even when it is, the main counter (which is covered in appliances and dishracks, etc.) doesn't look remotely clean even when it is cleared and scrubbed.  The old, white cabinets that I seriously suspect were built by do-it-selfers have drawers hard to open and doors hard to close.  It's cold and uncomfortable in the current climate and hot and uncomfortable in warmer weather.  I've decided yellow is definitely not the kitchen color for me as it makes me feel as if everything is old and discolored.  The room feels unclean and I can't seem to make it feel clean.  I don't like to let Eliza down on the floor in there.

Maybe it's my attitude, because it is the only room that still strongly speaks to me of the prior occupant and some of the things we've found along the way have given me a bad taste in my mouth.  A friend described it as sunny and cheery.  I find it depressing.  And so I don't like to go in.  I don't do the dishes as often as I should and I cook as little as I need to because I just don't care to be in there.  And it makes me long for a kitchen that I love, a kitchen I enjoy spending time in, someplace where I enjoy cooking and working and don't mind so much the cleaning-up.  We aren't going to do too much more to the current kitchen as the plan is to, someday, rip it out and completely make it into something entirely different.  We don't want to spend money spiffing up something that will only be a kitchen for the next five or seven years.  But that does mean that I have what will likely be at least five or seven years in a kitchen I don't like. 

So, here is the perfect opportunity to learn joy in the face of distaste.  To pick myself up by my boot straps and figure out how to make the place work for me.  Nick has done some wonderful things to make the kitchen more usable, and maybe there's something more incredibly dirt cheap that I could do to make it a little more to my liking.  Because I really would like to be in a kitchen more.  And to cook more.  We shall see.  But I'm definitely set against a yellow kitchen when I renovate someday.  It would take a miracle to change my mind.

SNOW!

Saw the first snow flakes outside our window today!  Big, fluffy, wet ones mixed with rain.  They're gone already, but it was just a little bit exciting.  I confess, I'm hoping for snow again this Christmas!

She's one!

Yesterday was a busy, busy day!  Our baby girl turned one year old!  It's still so strange to me that it was an entire year ago that this astonishing and sweet little girl entered our lives late at night, that a year ago I was holding her and staring down into her wide dark eyes as she stared back at me.  Now my little girl is almost walking, bouncing and "dancing" on her feet, laughing and clapping, waving bye-bye, nodding her head "yes" and shaking her head "no" and jabbering at us, fully expecting us to understand what she's saying.  She's such a miracle, our Eliza Jane!

We had a party for her after church, having pizza (her favorite) and cupcakes (a new treat) and friends and family.  She didn't quite get the whole opening of the presents, but she definitely enjoyed pulling new things out.  I am looking forward to introducing her to Beauty and the Beast today and pulling her new toys out of their boxes.  And she, I know, enjoys her new clothes already.  (Yes, just one, and already a clothes hound!)

Sadly, today is not going to be so happy a day.  We have our 1 year check up and there are shots on the way.  So, really, I should be getting dressed and ready to head out, giving her some Tylenol so she's ready when the shots come.  I wish Nick could be there to help, because I never handle it well, but he has to work.

But as much as joy and learning as this past year has brought, I'm so grateful and excited for another year to watch Eliza grow and change and learn and play, to have the time for snuggles and books and laughter.  I know it sounds all good, but some of the hardest lessons in life come from parenting and I still have lots to learn.  I'm grateful, though, that the lessons come with this wonderful little person.  Thank You, Lord, for my baby girl!

And announcing....

We had our sonogram yesterday!  We are so excited to share that we are expecting a little boy in April!  We couldn't be more pleased.  We're happy to be able to have a little boy to "carry on the Kemper name", but also it just feels like the right fit.  We are glad to have one of each, and that as we have more children (Lord willing!) that we won't be wishing for this or that, but just glad to have another baby.  So Eliza will be having a little brother, and I do hope they'll get along!  We don't have any names yet, but we will be sharing once we do. 

Commercial angst

No, this is not a post ranting against commerce and the complete subjugation of our society to business, economy, and most of all advertising.  Well, maybe it is about the advertising part.  Because I am falling victim.

'Tis true: the Christmas commercials are beginning to appear in full-force.  Which just seems odd, even to this eager woman-child who loves that time of year, as it's currently an April-like 74 hour outside.  But that really isn't my problem.  My problem is that my home never looks like the homes featured in these commercials.  I am not so much bothered by the quality of furniture, vastness of the layouts, or even the state-of-the-art everything in these kitchens and living rooms, or that the children's bedrooms are designer-decorated.  No, my wish this morning as I watched magic swirl beautifully decorated reindeer gingerbread cookies to life on a Glade advert was that my home never looks as magical.  Seriously, the places look so homey and softly lit and beautiful and just bright spots of the season... And I look at my place, that even in the best of times looks a bit... stark?  (Ok, maybe some pictures hung and window coverings that aren't nailed to the window frame would help, but still...) 

Granted my seasonal decorations are almost non-existent and so is the budget and the savvy to make them better.  But I can't help but wish our home would seem like a place of wonder and excitement as that stupid commercial did.  Maybe it would start if I put away the laundry and picked up the toys and washed the dishes.  So, that means I've got to get to work.  And no, I'm not going out for some Christmas-scented Glade.  Nice try, Commercial Gurus.

A mouse in the house

Yes, that's right.  We have a mouse.

A few weeks ago I rounded the corner into our kitchen with the intention of starting some breakfast for Eliza.  As I came round, a small, longish shape disappeared under the fridge.  I couldn't be sure what I saw, but it was enough to send me out of the room again to put on shoes.  When I actually did begin making Eliza's oatmeal, there was the pitter-patter of clawed little feet underneath the stove.  I texted Nick.  It was time for the exterminator to bring home some equipment.

However, we didn't see anything again.  No mouse droppings.  No other sightings.  No evidence that I hadn't just imagined anything.  After all, it was morning, and before I wanted to be up.  Maybe I was too quick to jump to conclusions.

And then this morning.  I was standing in the kitchen with Nick.  I looked down in time to see a mouse come scurrying from.. somewhere, and in it's haste, it slipped down the slope of our kitchen floor and almost fell at my toes.  Or rather, on my toes.  Joy.  We really do have a mouse.  And just to make sure to set any doubts to rest, the little bugger later ran out of the kitchen, right past Nick and I as we sat at the dining room table eating our oatmeal.  Indeed: it roams the apartment.  I've had unease about sitting on the floor or letting Eliza play unsupervised since.

Of course, the necessary measures are on their way: traps, bait, etc.  Thankfully, my husband is fully capable of taking care of the traps, because as little as I like mice alive (and I really don't like mice), I like their corpses even less.

Ew.

Baby Girl's first Halloween

(I think I may need to break the habit of calling her "Baby Girl", seeing as she'll be one in two weeks and there's another baby on the way.  Especially if said baby is another girl!)

Eliza's first Halloween, admittedly, wasn't a very big deal.  She can't have candy.  She can't yet walk.  So, it seemed a little pointless to take her out trick-or-treating.  Our church hosts a yearly Halloween Alternative, this year in the form of a Trunk-or-Treat with face painting, balloons, and popcorn.  This year my parents hosted a trunk, so we put Eliza in her ladybug costume and set off for church.  She was neither a fan of the crowd or of all the strange costumes.  The only time she smiled was when she saw her friends Elizabeth and Sarah and wanted to hug them both.  (I really wish I'd gotten pictures of that!)

Afterwards we came home, had a snack of Cheerios, and then joined our friends Tricia and Rachel handing out candy to the neighborhood kids from the house's front door.  Eliza seemed to really like how soft her costume was, and she threw a small fit when it came time to take it off.  But otherwise, it was a quiet, and very short, Halloween.  Next year, though, we might head out for tricks or treats.

Pictures below: Eliza in her supercute Halloween outfit for church, and our Little Ladybug.  (Shout out to Aunt Winter for the costume!)