out of the bin: volume five

Sometimes things are just staring at me.


Oh, hello there little darling butterfly tray. I think I will put you in Alice's room on the painted table that belonged to my grandma, next to the ikea spice-rack bookshelf and the '70s phone on which we pretend to order sandwiches.


Other times? Things are hidden. Or, more accurately, buried.


And even though it is the easy-to-spot stuff that gives me adrenaline to press on, the little sparkling bits of treasure in the heap of junk keep me coming back.


This chair.  This chair made my jaw drop.  Still does.  Seeing it for the first time felt like opening a birthday present.  But someone else grabbed it first.  We made eye contact, my heart sank, and I walked around the store trying to put it out of my mind.  I was stomach-sick-disappointed and thinking in four letter words.  "WHY didn't I just grab the chair?  WHY?  WHY AM I SO SLOW?  DON'T THINK SO MUCH NEXT TIME, ERIN, JUST GRAB!"  And on and on.

About an hour later I was going through the books and the man who got the chair? He gave it to me.  He GAVE it to me!  "I was just going to sell it anyway," he said, and handed it over.  I know. 

So now this chair reminds me of that one time that guy at the Goodwill Outlet was nice to me and gave me something he got first, fair and square, like a little gift.  I hope it always does.

(Okay fine, it also reminds me to not think-- just grab.  Ha.)

PS. That photo of Alice in the chair was taken on Hal's birthday -- her last day as a two year old. And she chose that book and sat down like that all on her own. No posing or anything. This is just what she was doing, being two years and 364 days old and cute as a button.  I think I need to make a print.



I figured out my baby.

After all of his screams and finger-points and moods changing on a dime.  After coming to terms with his refusing to sleep and his baby-language tantrums and his koala-ing my leg and early walking and wanting to eat hamburgers instead of purees and his obsession with Legos and lightsabers, it hit me.


He looks at Clark and Alice and projects their image onto himself.  He thinks he is four years old.  He is one year old. 

Now, who is going to tell him?



the toy shelf

I declutter A LOT.  The five of us live in a 1,600 square foot home with three bedrooms and one and a half baths.  We love our home, it is cozy and ours and nothing about it bothers me much at all. There just isn't room for tons of stuff.  With Alice's birthday coming up on Satuday, I've been sneaking little (and big) things out of her room for the past few weeks.  Bags and bags of donations.  But these things?  These things stay. 


After posting my quick foggy-brained messed-up-white-balance photos of the toy shelf the other day, I just had to post a redo.  Just for myself.  Just because my camera and I haven't had enough time together this year and throwing up images (or words or whatever) that aren't quite right has never been my style and makes me feel all cringey inside.

I'm more emotional watching Hal turn one than I was with Clark or Alice.  He is likely the last baby.  This is likely the end of babyland in this house.  Even as I have to fight to loosen my grip on it, part of me is ready to use both hands again.  It's been a long hard year and I was exhausted but awake for almost all of it.  What on Earth will I do with a full night of sleep and two hands?  Lots, I guess. For one, I will take more pictures. 




So I guess this weekend is birthday weekend. My girl is turning three and my baby is turning one.  This is what they tell me.  This is what the calendar tells me and we all know the calendar is in charge.  The calendar also says that my drivers license, the one I just renewed, like, last month?  The calendar says it expires in less than a year.  The calendar always wins. And it doesn't just win, it cheats.  If I were a scientist I would prove it to you.  You are a little kid with your whole life in front of you for what feels like an entire lifetime and then for one glimmering moment you are doing things and making choices and then you pause and look up and you are half-way to one hundred.  But you remember what you wore on your first day of kindergarten like it's no big thing. You are that same little girl in the Minnie Mouse raincoat, just wearier, and you got from there to here in the same time it took to go through grade school.  Of course I am speculating.  I am not fifty, I am twenty eight.  But I'll be fifty in a few years.  I don't know the exact mathematical equation, but I think it's just ten years or maybe two and a half years away.  Maybe I'll be fifty this Winter. I don't know.  But I know that come this weekend, Alice will be three and the little baby who was born in my bedroom, a few feet away from where I sit typing this, will be a whole year old.

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I know it and I even believe it.


out of the bin: volume four

this is both late (i said i'd post tuesday or wednesday - HA!) and short. i spent the week taking care of a million little things and a super sick (high fever and flu) husband and woke up this morning with my legs moving through honey and my body aching like i'd done some super exercising when i had not, in fact, done even un-super exercising and around noon i gave up today for lost. by six i realized my throat was hurting and that, oh yeah, i spent my week around a sick person! so i fear i have the flu thing he had. typing hurts. it hurts my arms and my fingers and my head. but i will show you a teeny tiny little thing i pulled out of the bin this week anyway. well, four teeny tiny little things, technically.

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three little kittens who lost their mittens.

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and their mama. and a bonus kitten who doesn't go with the story so i am not counting her.

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my photos aren't the best this week-- i took them today and it was too hard for me to remember how to adjust the camera while simultaneously thinking about how much more comfortable it would be to get in bed and not move a muscle. but you get the idea. i am a sucker for the knick-knacks.


a HUGE sucker.



next week i'll try to post earlier in the week. or earlier on friday. or whatever. ha! you never know with me! i'm a wild card! and totally unreliable! it says so right in my bio! good thing this is my blog and you all know me by now, right?

xs and os and a happy weekend.


like dickens

Today we were driving on the interstate and we passed some old apartment building called Pickwick something or other.   I remembered being 12 years old, moving from my little town to Indianapolis, driving on the interstate and seeing this place.  Pickwick.  I thought it sounded romantic.  Like Dickens.

There is a building along the side of the main apartment complex, a big talll building with aluminum siding all over.  I don't know what goes on there, something sportyish, but to me it was ajsdjkal-- excuse me I just killed a fly on my keyboard, for real-- but to me it was a landmark and it was given value, this aluminum building, because I knew it was a place I would never go and that people there play a sport I'll never know how to play and live in apartment rooms I'll never enter. It was like a place I didn't belong.  And I could feel that when our car would pass.  I don't know why.

I was an only child until I was 15 so there are a lot of things I don't know about.  Dumb things.  Board games.  Bowling.  Dumb things.  But things.  I have never ever played checkers.  When people try to tell me how to bowl better, I have a panic attack and a meltdown.  I remove my bowling shoes.  I threaten to walk home.

I think I used to feel like that about BlogHer and Blissdom and Conference Time Season on Twitter and all that.  Even though I went to Blogher in Chicago a couple of years ago.  I still felt like I didn't belong.  Like it was this place I didn't quite get.  But I just heard that the 2012 Blogher Conference is in New York City, and I swear to you, I will find a way to go.  I think I might even belong.


just remembering.

Mama I wanna be a calico critter for Halloween.
I wanna be a craft for Halloween.
I wanna be duck duck goose for Halloween.
I wanna be a paperdoll for Halloween.
I wanna be a surprise for Halloween.

-Alice, on November 19, 2010, thinking way way ahead


out of the bin: volume three

i think next week i am going to do this earlier in the week, like tuesday or wednesday.  i can't really control myself and always hit the outlet on monday or tuesday and it would be a lot easier to get it all uploaded right away.  i rescued so many pretty things this week.  so many!  i only took one awful blurry in-the-bin photo, though.


do you see it?

a fellow outlet addict who i see ALL THE TIME had an identical one in her cart a few weeks ago and my heart sunk because i wanted it so much.  i even went up to her and was kind of passive aggressive, like, "hey, i really really like that.  that is so crazy cute." and i capped it off with serious stare.

but there, now! it is! for me!


i also picked up this book that day.  caroline in europe, why you gotta be so cute? i really wish i had taken these photos with my big camera and not my iphone so you could really see the colors, but you get the idea. CUTE.


oh yes, and the three little kittens puppet storybook. because you really can't ever have too many puppet storybooks.


i also bought the cutest kitchen curtains i've ever seen that day.  then had a tragedy with them in the washing machine.  only one of the six panels survived.  i'll post a photo after i make the surviving piece into cafe curtains and hang (it) them.

so, that was monday.

but, of course, i went back today and bought more.

(PS. do you guys want the linky, or no?  i will put one up next week when i put up my post if you want.  i will aim for tuesday.  remember, IN THE BIN then OUT OF THE BIN.  or shelf.  or basement.  or garage sale table.  or whatever.  see ya next week!)


big and little

sometimes the flashing cursor isn't my friend.  i did not intend to fall off the face of the earth for so many days, i just did it and then looked up from where i was and saw this blog way way up ahead in the distance, so tiny i could barely see it. 

life stays the same and the same and the same so often.  days and days of routine.  but the last couple of weeks have not been routine.  big and little things have changed.  so i just kept my computer under my bed while i thought about things and went to the beach and had a sad heart and had a happy heart.  

i have had lots of people asking for another out of the bin and i will post one on friday. i will.  i already took my in-the-bin photos. 

so tell me, what did i miss when my computer was closed and under my bed?  and who is on google+?  and who wants an invite? i think i kind of like it there.