By Rachel Langston
For many people living in Alabama, a mixed marriage means a University of Alabama alum/fan married to an Auburn Universiy alum/fan. I confess that I am in a mixed marriage but it is not a mixed football loyalty. MY mixed marriage consists of me, a piler, being married to my husband, a hanger. Typically, it goes a little something like this…
HUSBAND: “Have you seen my (fill in blank with name of clothing article that requires ironing) ?”
ME: “Have you checked the ironing pile?”
HUSBAND: “Explain to me again why we have an ironing PILE.”
ME: “I only get in the mood to iron about 2 or 3 times a year. When I am in the mood, I would rather do it all at once.”
HUSBAND: “Wouldn’t it just be simpler to hang it up and iron it when you are ready to wear it?”
Here’s the deal…he grew up in a house where clothes were ironed as they were needed. I grew up in a house where ironing was performed all at once. Things that were not ready to be worn were not hung in our closets. Neither way is right or wrong; it’s just a matter of what you are used to!
My husband and I have been married almost 10 years. In that time, we have come to realize that there are bigger issues than the ironing. He doesn’t understand why I do it the way I do but he has come to accept it. He is perfectly happy for me to iron his things IF they are in the pile and IF the stars and planets align correctly and IF I happen to get in an ironing mood. If not, he quietly “shops” in the ironing pile and irons them for himself. I think it’s a perfect arrangement!
Copyright, RPL Communications, 2006
I love Christmas just as much as anyone. Normally, I am raring to go as soon as Thanksgiving dinner is over. This year, I feel differently. It’s like Christmas is speeding toward me and I am standing still, a sedentary target waiting to be hit.
Maybe it’s the fact that I saw the first Christmas merchandise in stores sometime while the temperature hovered around 100 or the fact that it’s November 28 and I am wearing a sleeveless shirt today. For whatever reason, it doesn’t FEEL like Christmas just yet. Instead of shopping and decorating, I find myself wishing that the thoughts of thankfulness and the crunching of the falling leaves might linger just a little while longer. And that I might linger too, doing nothing but listening. I am pushed, however, toward “the season”. It will come whether I feel like it or not!
The floor project is largely complete and down to “punch list” stuff waiting to be finished. The furniture needs to be put back in and there is more touch up painting ahead of me. I see the end of that tunnel but I am not there just yet.
My son’s birthday is next week. We are having his party at home so I will wait until that is over before dangling decorations from every possible place. After all, it won’t be long before he will think that a birthday party should be more than balloons and eating in the dining room. I see him entering a new phase of childhood but he is not there just yet.
Since August, I have been working on this idea of being a freelance writer. As I have had those thoughts and done some research along those lines, I find myself more and more energized just by thinking about it. I have taken the first steps; I have started making appropriate contacts; and I have pitched a few article ideas. I myself on the way but I am not there just yet.
By my count, it is 27 days until Christmas. When it arrives, my stockings will be hung and I’ll be as excited as my children! I see the time to get ready coming but it’s not just yet.
ONE PIECE OF BACKGROUND INFORMATION: The Cliftons are the people we bought our house from and they were the original owners.
During our recent home improvement project, we had some electricians working in an attic crawl space behind my husband’s closet. They had been in and out of there for a couple hours when I walked through the room. It was the day after halloween and one of the guys was sitting in the crawl space with a flash light shining on his face from below. It looked just like someone trying to make himself look scary and I commented about that to him. We both laughed.
As I started to leave the room, he said “Oh, by the way, you know that gun that was in here? We unloaded it while we are working. I’ll just sit it in the closet.”
I smiled and nodded. We don’t have a gun so he must be kidding me, right? Wrong. The next time I came through, there was a gun propped up against the wall of the closet. I am pretty sure that my heart skipped at least one beat. He wasn’t kidding!
When he saw me he said, “I know I unloaded the bullet but I can’t find it. It must have fallen down somewhere in this insulation. I’ll look for it when I finish this.”
I jumped in and said, “Don’t worry. We don’t NEED the bullet.” I really couldn’t think straight for a minute. I don’t think I had ever seen a real gun until that moment and I know I had never seen one in my own house!
I had this strange feeling like those women you see on Lifetime movies that, maybe, my husband was a TOTALLY different person than I thought he was. I have known him to be a lot of things but a gun wielding pharmacist was not one of them!
Somewhere in the carpool line and whatever else I did that afternoon, I forgot about the gun. I remembered it while we were eating dinner. Not wanting to mention that workmen had found a LOADED GUN in our attic in front of the children, I said to my husband, “Is there anything in your attic that you need to tell me about?”
Some of the color immediately left his face and he got that look like he wasn’t sure whether I was asking a trick question or not. I could see the wheels turning as he took a mental inventory of what he remembered putting in there. He replied, “I don’t think so?” but his tone definitely lacked conviction. “Maybe I should just show you,” I countered.
We told the children to stay put and we made our way to the attic where I pulled the gun out. “The electricians ran across this while they were working and it was loaded when they found it!” I was uncomfortable holding the thing and my voice was getting louder as I talked.
My husband, obviously less concerned than I, said “Well, I guess we know how Mr. Clifton planned to defend himself!”
By Rachel P. Langston
When my oldest child was 9 days old, I left him alone with my husband for about 5 hours. It is the smartest thing I have ever done as a parent!
I missed a single feeding; I carried a cell phone; and I was less than 10 minutes from our house the whole time. Although a little nervous, he was very willing to take care of the baby. He was (and is) very trainable regarding childcare. When I left the house, I was NOT worried about the baby. I made a decision then, that my husband was just as capable as I and that my time alone would be wasted if I spent it all thinking about them and worrying about how things were going. I had a phone and, if there was a problem, he would call.
I don’t remember exactly what I did for that length of time, but I remember the freedom and relief that flooded my brain when I was safely buckled into the car. In fact, I was so glad to NOT have to strap the baby in and out of the car seat that, maybe, I just got myself (and myself only) in and out of the car for awhile! I remember that I went to the mall and I am sure that I took a long time eating lunch somewhere.
When I returned home, it felt a little bittersweet. Motherhood met me at the door and my husband met me with a huge smile of relief! I know he was glad his “shift” was over. Or, at least, that another set of hands had shown up!
It was 2:30 in the afternoon. He was still dressed in his pajamas and bath robe. I didn’t comment but he said, “I am still wearing this; I have needed to go to the bathroom for 2 hours; I haven’t eaten anything; and I had to answer the door like this!” I don’t remember my exact response but it probably was not as sympathetic as my husband would have liked.
Later that evening, after he had eaten, bathed, dressed and gone to the bathroom (not necessarily in that order), he said, “I’ll never ask you where your day went or why you didn’t do something that you planned to do that day. Now, I understand.”
My son will be 6 next month and my husband has been true to his word. He has never questioned what did (or didn’t) get accomplished on the days that didn’t go according to plan. I have to confess, my only intent in leaving that day was to get out for a little while. I didn’t know that it would lay the groundwork for all the times since then that I have left my children in the totally capable and willing hands of their father. They are lucky to have him and so am I!
Copyright, RPL Communications, 2006
My flooring project started about 3 weeks ago and it is still going. No, there has not been a major disaster or a change of plans, but it turns out that there is quite a bit of “prep” work to be done before the actual floor can be laid. When I think about it, I know that this can be said for most things, especially home improvements. When this project started, it SEEMED simpler than it has turned out to be.
We actually started this project in January when we had the cedar plank paneling sealed and painted. It is a board and batten style paneling so that meant that, after the primer coat, the painters had to run a bead of caulk between EACH and EVERY board. The room is 20′ x 28′ and there were 2 guys working. They were for 13 days and they did prep work for 9 of those days.
We continued this summer when the old carpet was torn out. That meant that, “all we had to do” was tear out the particle board, put a layer of 3/4″ plywood down and lay the pre-finished floor. Nothing to it, right? Well, sort of…these are some of the things that we have discovered and dealt with during the PREP phase.
- The particle board does not come up in sheets (like it went down). Instead, it makes a HUGE mess with lots of dust and little piles of what used to be particle board.
- I have steps that lead to my kitchen and dining room. I wanted to replace the existing step with a solid tread so that the wood would blend with the finish on the new floor. When we removed the carpet and laminate floor covering that had been on those steps, the step frames were no longer square so the whole step had to be rebuilt.
- The step leading to the dining room is 6″ longer than any standard size piece of wood so that tread will have to be custom made. It will be stained to match the floor but that cannot be done until the floor is laid.
- All the baseboards in my living room, dining room, and kitchen have now had to be touched up (or repainted) twice.
- When you cut a hole in the new plywood for adding the floor outlets that we have requested, you can see dirt underneath. This is a GREAT hit with my children! When they have had friends here during this process, they will kill a good 10-15 minutes looking through those holes with a flashlight to see what it under there.
- The people that lived here before us left behind a loaded gun in the attic. The electricians ran across that when they were running some new wires. Thankfully, they knew how to unload it because my husband and I were clueless.
- The flooring itself has to be delivered and sit for a few days before it can be installed. It has to be acclimated to its new environment. Believe me, for what it costs, I want to make sure that it will be happy in its new home.
- There are a couple of water stains on the ceiling from roof leaks. Those have to be stain blocked and painted BEFORE the floor is laid. Believe me, there will be NO CEILING painting for a long time after the floor is installed!
I am not hosting any special holiday gatherings so I don’t have a dealine that I am working toward. I am ready, however, to put my house back together (as much as that is possible). So here’s the latest…
Today, the painters are here finishing up the ceiling. I have dusted, swept, vacuumed, wiped cabinets and painted baseboards until I can’t see straight. The floor has been here acclimating since Thursday. I have looked and re-looked at the nooks and crannies and paint scratches and I think they are all covered. All the details are taken care of and it’s actually time for the installation to start. I wonder when they will show up?
Copyright, RPL Communications, 2006
My oldest child started kindergarten this year. We have been very excited and the first couple of months of “big school” have gone pretty well. We definitely had some “adjustment” issues to deal with during the first few weeks but we have all managed to make it through those. Contrary to what numerous stay at home mothers seem to deal with, my biggest adjustment has NOT been my personal emotions of dealing with my children reaching school age. Rather, more than 2 months after school started, I am still trying to figure out how to survive and thrive in the carpool line!
I have a number of friends and aquaintances with children older than mine. I have been hearing, “Just you wait. You’ll see” come out of their mouths for quite some time. Just like marriage and childbirth (and lots of other things), no one can really give you an adequate picture of what it will be like. You just have to experience it.
Until August 14, 2006, I didn’t really believe what I heard. Now I know that I was wrong. I have 2 college degrees but I had to make 3 phone calls just to fill out my carpool registration correctly.!
Here are a few other things that I have picked up along the way…
- People in the school post signs along the carpool route for the people sitting in the carpool line to read. They think it is a good way to communicate with parents, guardians, caretakers, etc. Here’s the problem: people don’t pay attention to the signs they read. People will sit in their vehicles with their phones to their ears WHILE they are reading the sign that tells them NOT TO USE CELL PHONES WHILE IN THE CARPOOL LINE.
- I like driving a car instead of an SUV or a van. It is something that makes me feel original and different. I’m sure that, if anyone else in the line notices or cares that I am driving a car instead of an SUV or a van, they wonder what is wrong with me and why I have not “upgraded” yet.
- Some children still walk to school. We are lucky to live in an area that has “neighborhood” schools. Our family is not quite close enough to walk but there are lots of families that do. There is something a little old fashioned and refreshing about that and I enjoy observing while I am in the carpool line.
- Based on what I hear and see, part of my status as a mother is determined by how long I sit in the line each day and who sees me doing it. I don’t know what it is but, apparently, there is some really great prize that awaits the 1st car in line! Since I still have a younger child that naps, I tend to roll in toward the back of the line and I don’t leave home until after it starts moving. Obviously, my loss. Judging from the number of people that rush to get there early so they can sit and wait, I am missing out on something big!
- We don’t pay our teachers enough! At the end of their days, they are charged with managing the “troop movement” from classroom to carpool line. They arrange for their students to gather their things and walk in an orderly way so they can be safely deposited into the 1)bus going to an after-school program, 2) line of children that are allowed to walk home, 3)the supervision of someone picking them up in person and/or 4) waiting cars. They would rather pack their own bags and gather their own coats but they bring my child to me. And the same love and care that starts his day in the morning ends his day in the afternoon.
I love the sounds that houses make. There are creaks and pops that often go unnoticed because they are so consistent. It is only when I don’t hear them that I even pay attention.
As the prep work for our floor project has been going, our existing floor has been taken down to the original sub-floor. In this case, it’s 30 year old plywood. It creaks and sags and pops when we walk across it. To be able to install the new floor, we have to add 3/4″ plywood and we have to level the areas were not built at the same level and/or that have settled since 1977. They finished leveling everything and laying the new plywood just a couple of days ago. What a thrill for me to see the fresh wood which means that my vision is finally coming together! The next step is the new floor.
There is something I didn’t visualize, however. New floors don’t have old sounds. Yes, we still have the pops and creaks in other places, but the new floor is solid. It doesn’t wiggle and sag and dip where it used to. I am not interested in going back to the old floor, but I find myself listening as I walk across it and hearing nothing.
Copyright, RPL Communications, 2006
Recently, my husband said to me, “You know, we are just 1 piece of furniture away from being on one of those clean up, sweep out, reorganize shows on tv!”
Actually, it’s not our furniture that is cluttering up the place. It’s all that other stuff that we pack into the drawers and sit on top of the furniture that is the problem. And don’t even get me started on what we have managed to shove in our cabinets and closets!
As you know from an earlier post, we are in the middle of a home improvement project that involves the entire main level of our split level house. We are about half-way through the project and through the worst part (the demo, prep work, and general mess). We are not anywhere near being through with the confusion but I suspect that doesn’t have as much to do with the floor project as I would like to think.
So what about all that stuff that clutters the house? I am not positive yet, but I suspect that my middle age may be my “minimalist” period. I don’t mean that I don’t want ANYTHING sitting around and that I want stark white walls and metal furniture. What I do mean is that I don’t want EVERYTHING sitting around or stuffed out of sight.
Half the trick of those TV Shows is getting rid of the clutter. The other half seems to be figuring out what things ACTUALLY have meaning. Thus, I start my quest…what things have meaning to me? Why? Would I like to see/have those things displayed? If so, where?
I’ll get back to you on what is on it’s way out. It could be a garage sale shopper’s dream come true!
Copyright, RPL Communications, 2006
