As Good As It Gets

I woke up at 8 a.m. from the strangest dream. We'd moved to Michigan and were living in a large, rectangular, two-story farmhouse. In the dream, I was adamant about moving furniture downstairs from usptairs and at one point, I was insistent that the bedroom furniture be placed on the front lawn, in the lacy shadows of a large tree.

Then, I saw the view from the upstairs bedroom window--Mt. Hood! (Which, of course, is located in Oregon, not Michigan. But no matter. It was a dream.) However, things took a strange turn when I was suddenly having an ultrasound done to see if I was, indeed, pregnant. And not just any ultrasound. No sir-eee-bob. I had to walk from the waiting room to the ultrasound area naked.

Thank God my husband said, "Hey, do you hear the baby? She's awake."

My husband worked again today until 4 p.m. I cannot actually remember the last day he took off from work. I think it was at Christmas. While he was gone, the most remarkable thing happened. Babygirl took another nap in her crib. She nursed, sat up and pointed to her crib. I said, "You want to lay down in your bed?" She nodded. She actually slept about two hours. I read a chapter in a book, listening for her to cry out. When she didn't, I went downstairs and cleaned up the kitchen. My basic cleaning turned into Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder cleaning in which I picked out color crayons from the baskets and discarded them based on how dull their point was. I banished all the "RoseArt" crayons, too. I threw away an old lipstick I found in the kitchen counter basket which collects all manner of flotsam. I tossed an errant lego, a choke-chain for the dog we no longer have, two dried up glue-sticks and more.

Then I decluttered the "junk" cupboard which overflowed with tape dispensers (Costco sold tape in packs of 8), combs, paint brushes, post-it notes, nail clippers, pens and yes, more. Stuff, junk, do-dads. I have no shortage of clutter around here. Part of it is my fault--I save it if I think it has value, even if that value won't occur for ten more years. And then there are the kids who have vast stores of treasures, which cannot seem to stay put. I find Pokemon cards and plain-old playing cards and legos and balloons and tinkertoys and papers and books and dirty socks everywhere. My husband would like nothing more than to live in a home decorated in Early Dorm Room, so the baggage that comes with a family of boys and a baby assaults his senses.

When I finished throwing things away, I turned my attention to my sooty kitchen window. The candles purchased at Christmas-time smell great and leave a filmy coat of gray on the window frame and window. I washed the white paint, scrubbed the window and shook out the valance.

Puttering takes so much time and before I knew it, the baby was awake again. How satisfying, though to see my streamlined cupboards and baskets and unsooty window.

I told the boys we were going for a walk to 7-11 to buy Slurpees. They cooperated quickly and we were off, Babygirl in her stroller, Youngestboy by my side, chatting the whole way, TwinBoyA on a scooter and TwinBoyB on his bike. When I told my husband later, he exclaimed that such an outing was too dangerous! He's Mr. Caution. I told Mr. Caution that the road is wide and there is a bike path and we were perfectly safe walking half a mile each way. The skies were mostly sunny and the temperatures were in the mid-forties and it almost felt like spring.

Tonight, Babygirl went to sleep at 7:15 p.m. For the fourth night in a row, she pointed to her bed and when I asked if she wanted to lay down, she nodded. I love having a nodding baby. Even if she doesn't mean to say yes, but nods, it makes me feel like she is so agreeable.

I left the house at 8 p.m. and spent two satisfying hours at Barnes and Noble. I had a gift card to spend, but I wanted to spend it wisely. I bought four books: Sue Monk Kidd's "The Secret Life of Bees", a book about keeping a journal called "Leaving a Trace", a funny book to send my friend, Diane, for her birthday, and Elizabeth Berg's "Never Change." My stack of books to read gets higher and higher and probably one day it will collapse and render me senseless. Maybe even paralyze me, which will be okay if I'm not blinded. Then I will be helpless, but still able to read.



I can always hope.