Have you ever had an idea that was so great you were really proud of
yourself for thinking of something so smart. You're busy patting
yourself on the back and signing fan cards because you're the number one
member of the self-admiration club when you realize, "wait, that was so
obvious I should have thought of it a long time ago. The fact that you didn't think of it makes you eligible for free rides on the short bus to school. I had one of those experiences the other day.
My husband and I have lost most of our dressers. We've given the drawers over to diapers, baby medicine and mostly baby clothes. The long, low dresser also has had the top converted to the changing table. Some day, when the children can go upstairs to their bedrooms themselves and don't need to have diapers changed so much, we'll put their clothes in their room and we'll get our drrawers back. For now, we've relocated our items into the closet.
I moved most things in there, but I kept my short t-shirt drawer and underwear drawer in the bottom two drawers that are still mine. But here's the thing. Every day I put on underpants. I also put on socks. Well, commonly these things happen. There are flip-flops and sandals and my running shorts don't need underpants, but I digress into details that you likely not only don't care about, but would rather not know.
So... underpants and socks. To get the underpants, I go from the bathroom to the bedroom. Then for the socks I go back to the closet. Commonly, there is a parent or a grandparent right where I need to get, changing a child—it seems like one of them is always getting changed—and I need to get around their legs to get to my drawer.
So bing, light goes on yesterday, I could move the long-sleeve shirts into the underpants drawer, thus putting long-sleeve and short-sleeve shirts beside each other and I could move the under-garments drawer right below the sock drawer and I would completely eliminate the issue. I would also save time because I would save one trip back and forth getting clothes from drawers in two different rooms.
I am so smart. Wait a minute, if this was such a great idea, why, for the last twenty months have I been running back and forth with two similar jobs in two different places? I am so dumb.
The new system, with a sampling of one day, is working out great.
I am going to predict a future post about under-garments and the need to get them while not wearing undergarments in a closet with windows that face the street.
The Big Boy Update: Language Regression. Well, not regressing, but he's doing his own version of baby talk from a year ago when his sister starts a conversation with him. She says this multi-syllabic slew of sounds, usually something like, "da da da da da" and then she pauses. He may be rooms away, but he'll answer her. They do this face to face too.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Da da da da da. She says little baby babbles all the time now. She almost seems like she's talking with how she looks at you so intently when she babbles at you. I don't know what she's saying, but it seems her brother does. This afternoon when she was waking up from her nap she was standing at the edge of her crib, looking over at her sleeping brother and saying, "hi. hi." repeatedly.
Fitness Update: The second half is all downhill. No, seriously, it is. I don't know how it works in my mind, but I don't think I'm alone in this. When I'm gauging how far I want to run on a particular day I base it on how far out I want to run. I don't seem to factor in—even though I know it's important—the return half of the run. The day my neighbor and I decided to go for the fourteen miles, we were really deciding how far we wanted to go before we turned around. It's strange, because you're going to have to do all the elevations in reverse that you did on the way out, and let me tell you, it is not all downhill. But that's the way it works. I haven't yet turned around too late where I used up all my energy before I got home. I don't know how it works, but I'm glad it does.
Someone Once Said: Privacy is as necessary as company; you can drive a man crazy by depriving him of either.
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