I’m sitting in front of my computer right now, next to a bunch of five, freakishly long, starting-to-get-spotty bananas. What should I do with them? I thought they would fill up the kids and also be gentle on their tongues (because of the whole Hand, Foot, and Mouth fiasco), but neither one ate them. Bananas gross me out 65% of the time, Charlie’s the pickiest kid alive, and bananas constipate Lucy (sorry, future Lucy reading this) like there’s no tomorrow. I have zero baking motivation right now… so I guess I’ll forget about them for now.
Bright sunlight is filtering in (I realize that’s a very over-used phrase, but that’s what it’s doing!) through the quirky fruit-themed curtains my mom made me, and I keep wondering if there will be a place in our new home for those curtains.
The coffee pot just made that sporadic clicking noise that I’m never sure is the machine itself or if it’s the glass carafe cracking just the tiniest bit – just waiting to fully explode one of these days when I’m in a hurry or extra-frazzly.
My daily planner that I use every week and a half or so is sitting in our vegetable basket, probably on top of the garlic and onions. I’m not sure. I think there’s garlic in there.
There’s a plastic table in the corner with play-doh, a plastic tote, and a vegetable spiralizer sitting on top of it. Should we keep that table? I mean, both kids are almost getting too big for it. I remember being so proud of that Craigslist find – we’ve gotten a lot of use out of it.
This little dining nook is probably my favorite part of the whole house. The walls are a mildly crappy wood paneling, and we’ve got faded construction paper with Charlie’s art all over it, scotch-taped to the walls. Those things, coupled with the retro-colored fruit curtains gives it that brown 70’s feel that Paul and I seem to gravitate to.
In fact, what little décor we have in this house gravitates toward the brown-and-green late 70’s-early-80’s-feel. How is that going to look in our new town home? The one that was built last year? Is it going to look out of place? Or will it work? I don’t know. These aren’t existential-crisis questions, there’s no metaphor. I’m just wondering.
I keep looking at my computer clock, knowing I now have 15 minutes until Paul comes home with the kids and my “office” turns into a place where macaroni and cheese is consumed and stepped on.
Writing this was a surprise, which is nice. I’ve become so consumed by deadlines that I very rarely write out of organic inspiration anymore. Hopefully, the slowing of pace in our new home will allow me to do this more often.
Maybe I can put the curtains in our new office. Our new office that will be nowhere near the kitchen table, and will be mildly off-limits from the kids. Our new office in our new home with a ridiculous amount of bathrooms in a newish town.
(Also, I just checked. Not only is there garlic in that basket, but also some apples I don’t remember buying. I’m guessing they’re probably not great. At least I can take comfort in the fact that my fruit-using skills probably won’t change.)