Archive for the ‘Recipes’ Category


Thursday, August 23rd, 2007

I like unpacking.  Not all the time, and not for days on end, but I like re-discovery.  I like finding that we own eight spatulas, and four kinds of black pepper.  I like finding a photo album from a family reunion in 1988 and moving it into the photo album section.  I like flattening out the packing paper and the boxes.  I like counting how many boxes I have unpacked.  (4 medium boxes last night — and I made a casserole,** too.)  I like finding the new towels I bought to make our other house look better.  And I like finding the cloth diapers. 

After the Little One had accidents* several nights in a row, I’ve stashed diapers in a drawer in each bathroom — should make cleaning up easier, and more ecological than paper towels.  (And what is better to mop up pee than a diaper?  It’s almost as if they were designed to soak up pee.  Oh, wait a second.  They were, weren’t they?) 

We tried cloth diapers for a few weeks after she was born — even though we had a diaper service, it was too hard.  We were putting on an addition, and couldn’t access our washer and dryer, which you need for washing the baby clothes after they get peed or pooped on — which happened more often with cloth than disposable.  (The stairs to the basement and attic were removed while we were in the hospital.  I had a c-section, and couldn’t climb down the ladder into the basement.) 

I still have shelf space in the kitchen, and drawer space in the bathrooms.  I need to figure out what I want to keep in the bathrooms — I hate the way towels turn sour so quickly in the humid South, so I’m thinking along the lines of soap and toilet paper.  I’ll keep the towels in the linen closet.

Haven’t really started dealing with the bedrooms.  Most of our clothes are still at my parents’ house, and we may want to give away most of the ones that stayed in Chicago for a year.

* I assume her accidents are part of managing her new world of kindergarten, after-school care, townhouse, etc.  Along with the horrible hissy fits and calling her father stupid.  I’m working on helping her find other ways to decompress.  I’m thinking the glass of chocolate milk we each had when we got home yesterday is a good thing.  Good specifically for stress management, I mean.  Chocolate milk is always a good thing. 

** When we stopped at the grocery store to get the ingredients for the casserole after I picked the Little One up, a boy greeted her by name.  I swear she sort of blushed and giggled in return.  (Then she told me, “That’s very peculiar, isn’t it?  He goes to my [after school care].  Isn’t it odd that he’s here?”)  We had to go back to the produce section so she could see him again.  And she wanted to get out of the grocery cart.  (Too babyish?)  It turns out he is a 1st grader named Rafe.  He also goes to her grade school.  The grocery store is about a block from school and after-school care, so it wasn’t too strange to me.  This integration of our lives is exactly what I hoped for. 

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