Purging

Purge: to rid of whatever is impure or undesirable; cleanse; purify.

I did the unthinkable today. I broke down and did it. I cleaned my closet. Yes, it's true. It was a scary sight,my closet. The Salvation Army will now have enough clothing to clothe the entire female population of a small country after the next big natural disaster. Literally. And shoes, too.

Here are the two things I realized in the five whole hours it took me to clean my closet.

#1) It should be a sin to have that many clothes and shoes that haven't been worn for the length of time that they haven't been worn (but I could still never manage to find ANYTHING to wear!) Not to mention- all the clothes that STILL HAD TAGS!

#2) I cringed and cried as I stuffed designer, name-brand clothes in bags--some still with the tags. I wanted to hold a private memorial service in memory of these clothes, because it made me realize I will never, ever be able to afford these clothes- with these labels- for as long as I have children in my house.

I began to notice a pattern. I haven't cleaned out my closet in, well, seven years--since I've been married. It was that bad. But I started relating all the articles of clothing to the times in my life that they were bought. Banana Republic, Gap, Tommy Hilfiger, Guess?, Ralph Lauren-- all bought right before or right after Chad and I tied the knot.

Then there was Express, Limited, Victoria's Secret, all bought before I became pregnant the first time. But, the farther along I got in my life--after the first child-- I noticed more department store clearance items. No Banana Republic, Tommy Hilfiger-- maybe the occasional Express, Limited, but not much. Then I started to PURGE all the clothes I haven't worn in a year or more. It was then I realized how little I had left other than Wal-Mart and Target clothes. I have one Ralph Lauren shirt and one Anne Klein shirt left hanging in my closet-- and both of those were purchased at the end-of-season sales for less than $10 a piece.

My closet looks great! It hasn't been that empty since we moved in. As a matter of fact, I'm tempted to turn it into my own personal vacation spot. It's the size of a small room--I could put a tv and laptop in there and be very, very happy. It may be good for the entire family for me to have that extra space. However, it saddens me to realize JUST how empty my closet is. I now have more empty hangers than I do articles of clothing. It's true. But, I guess now my kids will have all the nice things and Mommy will just retreat to her now empty closet....

Pictures of our "Extreme Makeover"

Pillow covering.



Our new look.

I should also mention that Chad rearranged our bedroom this weekend. I think that's what motivated me to really want a new look. We hung new wall art that had been hanging around in the attic. I really like my new room. You can't tell from the pictures, but our room has a whole lot more space with our bed on a different wall. It's nice.

Finally....

After many months the search is finally over. What is this search I am referring to? American Idol? No. Dancing with the Stars? No. I'm talking about my brand new comforter set for my bedroom! I am so excited we finally found one. We've been in this house almost four years and we bought new stuff when we moved in the house. After 2 kids and 1 dog, it was time to be replaced. It was a goose down comforter and every time it got washed, feathers could be found floating around the house days later. It was starting to look like the goose had lost all his feathers. Again.

Chad and I have been on the search for close to a year. For Christmas we received plenty of cash to find what we wanted. We searched the after-summer sales, the after-Thanksgiving sales, the after-Christmas sales, the New Year sales, we searched endlessly. We found plenty we liked. But what I liked Chad didn't. What Chad liked, I HATED. Then there was the problem of too expensive, too cheap. Too frilly, too plaid. Too white, too dark. Kid/dog-proof, not-so-kid/dog-proof. Wrong size, etc, etc.

Finally "the one" just showed up at my door the other day. Okay, well, more like my mailbox, and it was in the form a picture, not the real thing, but you get the idea. It was on the cover of an advertisement for Bed Bath and Beyond. Chad and I knew that this was the one we were waiting for. After months of shopping, we found our match.

I dashed out north yesterday and they actually had a full stock of them. What we chose is not fancy by any means. One day, when my kids are grown, I will have plenty of fancy (whether Chad likes it or not) in every room. With kids--two boys especially-- fancy doesn't jive in this household. We have nice things, but we also try to buy durable, kid/dog -proof only. I was so excited, but then I realized I had to buy a LITTLE something to go with this set to show that there is a woman who lives here.

I started the search for some throw pillows. Yikes. Those things are not cheap. The set already came with two pillows, but it was just as plain as the rest of the set. (Plain, but nice.) I had plenty of extra money to buy pillows with our Christmas cash, but it hurt my feelings to pay $30 a pillow. I was just about to give up and leave, but as I turned to go I found something that changed my entire world! Pillow covers for throw pillows. Who knew? I had no idea you could buy covers to go over your old throw pillows. I mean, this opens up a whole new door for me. I can change the looks in every room for $9.99. And there are all kinds of designs. All you do is zip that old raggedy throw pillow up in it's new cover and it looks like you've paid $30 for the pillow. I am so in love with this new concept. Total room makeover--the possibilities are endless. And it added such a feminine touch to our new set. I love happy endings.

WHAT the...?

Can someone PLEASE explain cellular metabolism to me and then tell me EXACTLY what purpose this will serve in my life later?!

I feel like the worst mommy ever. Today I took the boys to a birthday party at the Healthplex in Clinton. We were outside for two hours. Ethan was in his stroller and I had the shade pulled over him and I had him sitting away from the sun. Being the content happy baby he is, I only got him out of the stroller for MAYBE twenty minutes total. Somehow, he is sunburned from his head to his feet. His little legs look pitiful. I wouldn't even put him in the bath tonight (which is a total pet peeve of mine) because I was afraid the water, no matter what temperature, would sting his legs. I gave him some Tylenol and rubbed some aloe on him, but it just makes me feel HORRIBLE!!!! I still don't know how it happened. Maybe his stroller shade isn't total protection from UV rays.

I'm not through yet.....

Last night I decided to do something I hadn't done in a long, long time. I decided to donate my blood. Our church was having a blood drive and they were giving free t-shirts to all donors. (I mean, really, who can resist a free t-shirt EVER?) If anyone has kept up with my blogs since I have been blogging, they MAY or may not remember an incident exactly two years ago where I vowed to never give blood again. It had nothing to do with me and EVERYTHING to do with the incompetent worker drawing my blood that day. On top of the bad incident (I'll spare the gory details for now), "Silence of the Lambs" was playing on the television mounted above my face. Great movie, bad timing.

Anyway, I decided to work up the courage again. I didn't even get nervous. We went through the whole questionnaire process, blah, blah, blah. She then sticks my finger. Now, I have been pregnant twice and I go for my yearly exams, so I've had my share of finger sticks. Yes, it hurts, but it only lasts for MAYBE 2 seconds. Not. I think this lady pricked my BONE (or, as we like to call it in A&P lab, my phalange). It hurt forever. Throbbing pain. I then asked her if she would be the one drawing my blood (oh yes I did) and she responded by telling me no, she was not allowed to do that YET. (Praise Heaven for miracles.)

The whole blood drawing process was not bad at all. Just like I remembered it before my last visit. After giving blood I always hop up from the chair and don't even stop for the juice and cookies they offer. Last night I took some cookies on my way out and ate them in the car on the drive home. I felt fine when I got home. Ate a big meal. Suddenly about 2 hours after I got home I started feeling queasy and overly tired. I don't even remember a lot that happened between the hours of 9 and 10. And might I also mention my left ring finger was black and blue and throbbing. It had bruised.

Woke up this morning and I still felt crummy. I was shaky and a little queasy. I wasn't even in the mood for my normal cup of coffee. I had obviously become dehydrated. Right then and there in the kitchen I vowed to never give blood again.

Then, I read Matt's blog about Xavian and I started feeling really guilty. Again. Xavian had to have a blood transfusion AND he's having a really bad time with the chemo. I caught myself looking at my finger and thinking how ridiculous I am for whining about my black and blue finger and my queasiness when I could be dealing with a potentially fatal disease. So, I will say that from this point forward, I will donate blood when possible for all the little Xavians out there. I may not can do much else, but I can do something as small as that.

Full throttle!!!!!

So today I had a lab practical. I knew this practical would be the test from H-E-double-hockey-sticks. It was a test on the bones. The bones of the skull, and the rest of the body aaaalllll the way down. Bones are bones. They don't change. They don't become something else. They are what they are. Memorize them, and you've aced the test. The problem with that is this: There are about a gazillion trillion bones in the human body. Not only are there a gazillion trillion bones, but there are features and special parts to each and every friggin' bone. But the gazillion trillion bones only apply to the body from the cervical vertebrae down, there are a million more in the skull itself.

Here's the funny part. I was jacked up on something highly caffeinated. To say the least. In case you don't know much about me, I am a total insomniac. If you know me AT ALL, you already know that. Today I had a hard time staying awake and focused all afternoon at work. (Didn't sleep much last night.) I kept drifting off to sleep with my eyes open. (Shhhh... don't tell my boss.) So, anyway, on the way to class tonight I stopped at my usual stopping place. I'm all about some caffeine and maybe some chocolate. Today I decided to go for the big guns. I got brave. I saw something tempting. In a pretty brown can. With a big, fancy, high-energy name. "Full Throttle" said the can. So shiny......

I took about two sips of it when I read the label: "Not recommended for pregnant or nursing women." Hmmmm..... Do I pretend I didn't read that or do I just NOT care at this point? I just decided not to care. I didn't drink the entire can, I just wanted enough to get me through the next 6 hours of my life.

Needless to say, when it came time to take this killer practical, not only was I nervous anyway, but my heart started pounding uncontrollably, my leg was bouncing all over the place, and I finally realized I think I did more harm than good by "giving myself wings" (as Red Bull likes to declare). I couldn't figure out why in the heck I was so nervous. I knew it would be a tricky practical, but I had never gotten this worked up over a test before. Stupid drink. Although, I did feel really smart in class and stayed focused a lot longer than normal. Fortunately Ethan wasn't affected. He's asleep. For now.