Basement (Before Pictures)

Now that the porch is all done (photos to follow another day) we are moving on to the basement refinish. Warning: these before pictures are not for the weak of heart.


Creepy



Gross, right?

Too damp...

Too dank...

Too dark.

The view to the Laundry Room. A laundry room re-do is on the wish list. Highly unlikely that it will ever be nicer than what you see here.



This cozy space has been my "home gym". I'm hoping for something more contemporary. Notice the hot water pipes overhead.



Grow

I'm feeling that end of school feeling, where I am looking forward to not making lunches and lazy mornings but at the same time feeling a slight buzz of panic about what I will do with the kids 24/7. It's definitely much easier now than even a year ago, but they can go from zero to fighting in no time flat around here. I'm feeling really bittersweet about the end of this school year also because Erin will be going into fifth grade, which means only one more year of having all of my babies accounted for under one roof. Next is middle school, and school buses. Less control on my part and it's freaking me out. Meghan will be finished with kindergarten and that's the end of another era. She's really not a baby anymore. And Christopher will continue to do his thing with what I hope will be a seamless transition from second to third grade. The only difference there is that he will be "upstairs" with the big kids. Meghan still cries when I have to leave her classroom or drop her off at dance, Christopher calls for me up to 5 times after bedtime to "take his dreams" and ask if he can sleep in our bed, and Erin hasn't walked into school with her classmates at all this year, opting instead to walk to the kindergarten playground with me to see her sister off. Often I get irritated or roll my eyes and long for personal space, but I'm thinking that I'd better be careful what I wish for because as Darius Rucker says it won't be like this forever.

TouchStone

I had lunch yesterday with an old friend. She went to college with me, and lived down the hall from me in my freshman year dorm. We hit it off right away with the same oddball sense of humor and cemented our friendship early in the fall of 1990 when a stereotypical mean girl in our hall lashed out at her in a stereotypical mean girl way. Soon our schedules were synched with English classes and Stage Makeup electives and since she was a year ahead of me I would basically take her schedule and go register a few days later with the same classes. We have the same name and our last names Lyons and Logan were so similar that we were practically interchangeable, and answered to both. With Jenny around I was never alone. We pledged a sorority together (her idea) and ironically, but when she lost interest and found a new circle of friends I became more enmeshed in the sorority and had to find other friends to fill my time. We would always circle back and were each other's touchstone when we needed it. She graduated and quite literally travelled the world and I still had one year of college that I stretched to two, with no interest in growing up or finding a job. I worked at the on-campus daycare and lived on snippets of allowance that my parents still sent me. Against my will I graduated and finally found a job in NYC. Jenny had been back in New York for some time, working glamourous jobs in fashion and for magazines. Occasionally we would run into each other. She went to Colorado and I to Texas and began what I refer to as my "uptight newlywed phase". We weren't in each other's wedding parties but went to each other's weddings. As we had babies we gradually got more in touch, again circling back to the comfortable place we once were. I ended up in Connecticut eight years ago, now she's been here almost three. Now we see each other about once a month, sometimes more sometimes less. But it's like we never left.
When we get together now at the tail end of our 30's we marvel at where we are... sitting in a chi-chi restaurant in Old Greenwich, walking around the boutiques, pretending to not be shocked at the price tags on the clothes ($275 for a cardigan!!!!!) and settling on buying a pair of $9 earrings. Just a couple of kids from Brooklyn and Staten Island, playing dress up and trying to be grown ups. I'm glad to have you back.

Tired

Meghan is in her room for the second time since 4pm... this time for the night. It's 6pm. She's had it. I've had it. She had her field day in the blazing hot humid sunshine this afternoon and cannot keep it together. She is alternately screaming psychotically and begging me in the saddest voice I've ever heard for one more chance. I can't do it. Her tantrums have been tantamount lately and I know that we are at least partly to blame because she's exhausted from all the wonderful things that May has to offer. Concerts, sporting events, field trips, playing outside after dinner. Frankly, it's too much for my 5 year old. But something's got to give, and for once I stuck to my guns and made her stay up there and fiiiiiiiiiiinally at 650 she fell asleep. I'm looking forward to having the old Meghan back tomorrow. If even for a day.

Little Girl

My money would be much better spent at J.Crew then ever signing up my 5 year olds' for activities. I don't know why I didn't learn my lesson with Kindergarten Daisies for Erin, or Kindergarten Basketball for Christopher.. But my biggest activity fail with the highest financial windfall (well, opposite of windfall) and emotional turmoil has been Kindergarten Lacrosse for Meghan. $40 activity fee and $75 in equipment plus shorts and cleats... throw in the bribary purchases to get her on the field, which no longer work. So many tears. Actual sobbing, not even the drama kind. Too much. And I get it. Know what activities I did in Kindergarten? Kindergarten. Half day kindergarten at that. What did I expect?

Laundry List

I've been having strange dreams lately. Stress dreams I think. I'm busy. We are all busy. Either you're busy with work, or you're busy with kids, or both, but everyone's busy. May is insane. Between school and activities, recitals, Communions, birthday parties, and sports. There's just not enough time. I can't help but think that there has to be a better way. For example, school concerts. There's just no way that my (and your) 4th grader is that much better at the saxophone now than she was in that confoundedly long month of March. How about we do the concerts then? And the first Communions. April? Just to take the edge off. My dream the other night was that I was at Disney and bought a huge bunch of balloons for my kids, but kept forgetting, and letting go. Then I'd go running after them, and leap super-humanly into the sky and grab some back, only to forget and let go again. It's so cliche and telling of what's going on in my day to day. And yours. I know. Life has become a laundry list. And don't even get me started on the laundry.

Titanium Ted

Today we participated in the Greater Hartford Arthritis Walk. My friend's son is this year's ambassador. He's 9 and has been suffering from an acute case of Juvenile Arthritis (JA) since he was 4, I believe. You'd never know it. He's an amazing athlete, and has been playing Travel Soccer (very competitive) since he was 7. The only way you'd know that something might be wrong is that the medicine he takes gives him terrible psoriasis and he breaks bones very easily so he's frequently in a cast. He misses quite a bit of school, but more often than not, he's there, even if he's had a treatment. Now the arthritis is in his eyes and he had to have eye surgery and have special drops put in his eyes 3 or 4 times a day. We've never done a "walk" before. But I was inspired by Ted's story and signed us up. I'm hooked. I'm easily moved. The letter they sent out made me sob. Watching my husband complete a 5K (no big deal for him) has me welling up. Not just the finish line, just watching him run. I follow several blogs and one of them is written by the wife of our school's 5th grade teacher. She's 30 and beautiful and fighting an uphill battle with Leukemia. And she was out there. Every time I looked at her, I was so moved to where I couldn't speak. Because if I did, I openly cried. Here's someone out there, fighting the battle of her life, supporting another cause. I'm moved. I'm impressed. I'm embarrassed that I don't do more. I have no excuses, I'm healthy and strong. Move it or lose it, right?

My sweet healthy strong lucky kids and their friends walking for a good cause.