Being a parent is funny, because you subconsciously believe that the slang you used as a teenager is still in existence, but one day your kids come home talking about "dank memes" and saying "that's so cringe-y" and you realize you have no idea what's going on anymore.
I was just starting to get what 'dabbing' is, and then one of my kids announced that a teacher at school did it and now it's dead.
|It's just me and this posable figure drawing dummy from the kids' area now.|
I spent a few hours on Saturday helping a friend vacuum and dust her house. She's the primary caregiver for her aging mother and it's consuming a lot more of her time and energy these days.
My experience left me with one question: can we please PLEASE start a worldwide cleaning co-op?
If we just cleaned each others' houses instead of our own, we'd get to work hard, leave with a sense of accomplishment, and pretend it's going to stay that way.
As opposed to cleaning our own house and putting the mop away just in time to see someone fall off their chair and knock an entire bowl of milk and cereal on the floor.
After cleaning at my friend's, I headed home to watch General Conference with my family. General Conference is my church's semiannual broadcast from church headquarters, with sermons covering spiritual topics from Jesus to faith to forgiveness. I look forward to it every 6 months.
It's hard for me to pick a favorite, but one I really liked was this one by Weatherford T. Clayton. (How can you not love a talk by a guy with a name like that?)
I love knowing that, like he says, "There is so much more to our existence than just what happens between birth and death."
We've been babysitting for friends quite a bit this week; my 5-year-old has loved having kids her age over every day and I've loved eavesdropping on their conversations as they play.
My favorite was when my daughter was cradling a baby doll and her friend asked, "Is that a real baby?"
"No," my daughter answered. "She doesn't cry when I throw her."
And then she spiked the baby like a football at her feet to prove her point.
Of all the reusable grocery bags in the world, I have the best ones. I bought them at ALDI years ago when I used to live near one. (Love and miss you, ALDI.)
|I used to have 3 of these Cadillacs, but one went missing and I have no idea where.|
These bags are huge. Which I love, because it means fewer trips to lug all the groceries inside. (For more on how I feel about that, see this post.)
I used to tell the bagger at my new grocery store to "make them heavy" so s/he'd use all the space, but now I just do it for the entertainment value. Some baggers hear "I would definitely like to get a hernia lifting this out of the car" and others hear "You can put two loaves of bread in this instead of one."
Usually it's one or the other, never in between.
And then things got weird in the seasonal aisle at CVS.
In theory, our attic is a rotating toy library for storing our kid's outgrown or unused toys.
In practice, it was a junk heap where we threw every old toy and avoided going up there at all costs. Except to lob in more toys like hand grenades and run away.
The attic was next in my decluttering quest, and I couldn't help thinking as I climbed the attic stairs for the billionth time that this was the stupidest first-world problem yet.
Seriously? I'm devoting an entire day to culling my collection of crapola?
Why did we, as a society, figure out how to make our lives easier by inventing things like electricity and running water, just to make it harder by drowning ourselves in an avalanche of stuff we have to constantly organize and maintain?
At the end of the day, though, we kept only the ones that are favorite toys, dropping off boxes and boxes of other stuff at our transfer station's swap area. And it felt really good to lob them in there like hand grenades and run away.