The effort of wanting

Lots of friends have been asking about the Compact lately, how it's going "not buying anything"--and so far, really, it's going pretty well. Surprisingly well, actually. most of the time I don't miss shopping. Of course, I've had my moments, like that trip to Target I wrote about, or the burning desire for a new washing machine. But overall, this is actually really fun.

D and I were just reflecting on it just the other day. Rather than make us feel deprived or bringing to light all the things we "just can't live without," doing the Compact has mostly made us aware of what we have already. And what we have is enough. There is yet to be a moment where we feel anything is really lacking in our lives. Honestly, there just isn't much we need. We're so fortunate to have a great house we love, a wonderful car that works well, insurance, and pretty much all the possessions a normal family could want or need.

So, is there stuff we want? Sure, of course there's stuff we want, but since we know we aren't going to buy that stuff, we're finding, it's just not worth the effort of wanting. Last week we took the kids to the Midtown Global Market (which is, oh, the coolest place ever) and as we were going in, I stopped to have a look at these gorgeous hand-panted tiles and bowls. They were beautiful. For a fleeting moment, I thought, "oh, I wish I could buy one of these!" but then, very quickly I felt something like relief. Nope- no tiles, no bowls, no need to decide which one to buy, no need to take one home, no need to figure out where to put it or clean it or worry about breaking it. I just had this moment where I stood there, feeling this freedom from attachment to it, I'm not sure how else to describe it. It felt good.

I spent another few seconds admiring the stuff and then moved on to catch up with my family, who were already ahead of me, enjoying the music, the people, and the atmosphere.

Alive she cries!

For the most part, sanity and good health have returned to our happy home. We managed to clean or fix everything without going out and buying anything new, tempted though I was. I still hate our washing machine, but that's just a thinly veiled excuse for wanting one of those cool-looking and super-efficient new ones. Maybe next year. Though this old junker will definitely make my upcoming foray into cloth diapering a bit more challenging...

Thank you so much to our friends who helped care for us by bringing food and doing some much needed errands for us when the going got tough.

third time's a charm

Introducing Crud 3.0, which features new, improved projectile vomiting! And butter-colored diarrhea!

This house is a cesspool of vomit and other unpleasant bodily spewage. As if a third round of this bug weren't enough, you aren't going to believe this, but our washing machine broke. Yes, on day one of this latest bug, just after I stuffed it full of barf-soaked bedding, the washer just simply...stopped. Our friendly Home Service Plus Appliance technician can't be here until Tuesday.

If it weren't for my mother, I would have lost my mind this past week. Seriously. She hauled the laundry (5 sets of bedding, countless pairs of jammies, onesies, pants) to her house, washed and dried it, and brought it back to us- sorry, flu-stricken things that we were. My mother is truly the most amazing woman alive.

And today, quite frankly, I am hating the Compact. I want to rid this house of anything even remotely connected to this bug. I just want to replace everything. Instead, I spent the day cleaning things.

I want to go buy a new washing machine. I don't want to clean or fix the old stupid grungy washer that was here when we bought the house and has disgusting congealements all over the inside of the lid. I want to just go out and buy new garbage cans, rather than wash out the current ones with disinfectant. I want to burn all of the kids' sippy cups and pacifiers and bottles, bacteria collectors all...and replace them with new, clean, shiny happy ones. I want to get rid of the stained laundry and buy new jammies and new bedding and just get every trace of this stupid virus out of our house and out of our lives.

it's been a while

OK, so I realize it's been a loooong time since I've posted anything to this blog. (but is anyone actually reading it, anyway? no one ever comments, so I truly don't know.....) For the past month we've been battling The Crud, which has made its rounds through our house twice, causing fevers, massive quantities of snot and some very unhappy kids and parents. Only the dog has managed to escape this one.

Apart from that, which has kept us pretty busy, we've been continuing our quest to cull our stuff. Just this morning we were in what used to be known as our basement, and which lately has been "the place where we put stuff we don't know what to do with but we can't throw away". A massive, massive pile of stuff has expanded to fill not one but two rooms. A pile of kids toys/clothes/gear that is taller than me has taken up residence in Dominic's shop. How does this happen?

We regularly make donations of old clothes and household items, we post stuff on Craigslist or the Twin Cities Freemarket and during the spring and summer, there is rarely a month that passes without me putting an assortment of stuff out on Lyndale with a "free" sign on it... but still, the mountain is there. Looming. Creating anxiety. So, rather than spend this sunny, almost-springlike morning outside with the now-healthy kids, we spent our time in the basement, sorting and culling. Oh yeah, and sniping at each other. We have grown so stressed out and overwhelmed by all this stuff that we can barely even work together to sort through it. We disagree on what to do with stuff, which storage bin to put it in, and even-I kid you not, when to move it upstairs/to the garage/to the shop. Now, or in an hour?

I'm re-reading a great book, "The Power of Play" by David Elkind, and it's making me really think about the toys in this house. He makes a strong argument for developmentally-appropriate playthings, in limited quantities. (Do we really need 10 puzzles?) He says kids should be allowed time to just be, and make their own fun, their own toys. Kids can be overwhelmed by too many toys, that 'abundance breeds contempt' and reduces the number of toys that are truly special to kids: with so many to choose from, why choose a favorite? There are too many toys that just do things for them...Push a button and one thing happens. Put the card here and this is the result. There are so many toys with "just one way to play' and kids need more open-ended toys, toys that encourage freedom of thought, freedom of movement, and freedom of imagination. I couldn't agree more. I want to keep the toys that bring my children joy, that are fun for more than just a day or two. I want to keep the toys that engage their senses, encourage their imagination. And, of course, eco-geek that I am, I want to phase the plastic toys out of this house (more on that in another post, for now check out this link.)

I'll let you know how it goes. And I'll be sure and tell you when the garage sale is.

How to ruin a perfectly good mood

After getting the kids to bed and the dishwasher started, I dashed off to that mecca of consumerism, Target. It was my first trip to target in a while and I clenched my short list in my fist the whole time, trying to ground myself and stay focused. I was a deer in headlights. The store is gargantuan, just huge, and I felt lost and totally overwhelmed. I know, pathetic, aren't I??

Well, it took me an hour to get the 5 things on my list, and I made many side trips down this or that random aisle in search of things. Target is arranged in a way that makes no sense to me. What should have been a simple, straightforward errand was a huge time-sucker and an instant headache. I couldn't find what I needed. There was too much else to look at. I didn't know where anything was, and I kept getting distracted. Plus, there was just too much ground to cover. I had to trek through the entirety of the store and through the grocery area, to get to the pharmacy for a box of friggin' band-aids.

In addition to the aggravation brought on by the sheer size of the store, -and this, I think, is why I got so crabby--I got totally frustrated with myself at the "wants" that kept popping up. If I were a cartoon character, there would have been a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, nudging me along as I shopped. "Did you see that cute swimsuit?" "Look at the kid-sized wheelbarrow! We NEED that!" No, no, no, I kept telling myself. We really don't need brightly colored plastic gardening toys or another cute sunhat for Lucy or a swimsuit for me....um, no. It seemed, down every aisle was something I wanted to buy, something I had to work to talk myself out of. It was absurd. Some were items I would have bought in a heartbeat "before" we started the compact, and others are things I wouldn't have looked twice at. A new, shiny aluminum green coffee cup! An adorable lamp that would fit perfectly in the bedroom! Rustic storage baskets for the kids toys! Stickers! It surprised and aggravated me that there were so many things I wanted to buy. I seriously felt like I was going to scream if I couldn't just buy....something. I wanted stuff, man.

Here I thought I could just go in, get the stuff, and get out, but instead I found myself totally consumed (no pun intended) by this mentally exhausting exercise in self-restraint. Happily, I didn't cave. It took me until today to shake the creepy feeling of -what is it? Desire for unnecessary stuff? I don't know what to call it. But it was totally unexpected, and it freaked me out a little bit.

Free time

Since we are no longer spending our free time "running errands" (read: shopping) we suddenly have the luxury of spending our time doing really fun, necessary or at the very least, interesting things. No time-sucking trip to target, homey d, or any other store to "pick up a few things." Many of the following activities are ones we would have struggled to find time for, prior to freeing up our weekends and evenings by committing to do the Compact:

• travelled to the Mall of America as a family to ride the merry-go-round. And again, and again. and again. (and no, we didn't buy anything)
• attended a chocolate tasting class
• hung out at the central library--a few times
• eaten--and really appreciated new varieties of dark chocolate (this counts, doesn't it?)
• cleaned the bedroom, finally
• sorted and donated the kids clothes that are too small
• re-did our family budget
• attended a cat show (yes, a cat show. If you know Lucy, you understand the magnitude of this experience)
• visited the children's museum
• spent time writing, reading, and sleeping
• started to "re-task" a couple of rooms in the house (again)

OK, so most of these activities aren't life-changing (except maybe the chocolate), but it's really nice to have time together on the weekends to just...hang out. Do stuff. Be a family.

Virtual oranges

Right around the time we took the plunge into doing the Compact, I discovered that one of my favorite grocery stores has an online shopping feature and that they deliver. With two little kids, one of whom has until only recently been colicky as hell, and the other of whom is not entirely patient all the time, getting to the grocery store has been more than a little challenging...either I go and run the risk of the kids having meltdowns while I'm pushing a cartful of food, or I wait until the weekend and leave the kiddos with Dom while I shop. But who wants to spend the weekend hours at the grocery store? Although I generally love food, there are many, much more interesting things I'd rather do on the weekends. Especially on the rare occasion i get an hour or so to myself. So, the discovery of an online shopping feature was a bit exciting for me. Great, I thought. I'll just write up a list with the week's meals, go online and order it up, and kabam, we're done!

Each week, I've been navigating their (very difficult and not-at-all-user-friendly) website to fill my virtual shopping cart with food. This experience has been both good and bad for me. It's nice to be able to get the week's groceries purchased whenever the kids are finally asleep, not to mention having it all hand delivered and carried into my kitchen...but there are definitely trade offs. I have found that even with a meticulously planned list, it's really hard for me to do my grocery shopping online.I blame the website, partially. It's not well-organized and it's hard to get through. I can't seem to do this "shopping" without feeling a little overwhelmed and frustrated.

First, there is a loss of the sensory experience that is kind of weird.I don't know, buying oranges and onions online just feels wrong to me. I can't look at them, can't feel the weight of them in my hands, can't enjoy their glorious colors. I can't smell the fruit, or the herbs, or the potatoes for that matter. I tried getting everything BUT the produce, but then that just means I have to make a trip to the store anyway, so why put myself through the stress of the online experience if I'm just going to have to go shopping anyway? Then, there's the issue of the "virtual" grocery store. it sinply does not work for me. if I can't see it all in front of me, my brain can't track what I have in my cart ,what I need, and the random "whatever" that I happen to see in the store that might look enticing. Oddly enough, the online shopping experience is much more difficult and stressful than just making a trip to the store. For me, grocery shopping is a kinesthetic experience: walking down the aisles of breads and crackers and soups, looking at the packages, the boxes, the shapes and sizes and colors. Wandering up and down through rows of jams and jellies, peanut butter, barbeque sauce. Walking slowly through the coffee and tea aisle to savor the scents. Selecting this or that, trying a new kind of bread or pickle or rice. I can't believe I am saying this, but I kind of miss it!

We are in a food rut to the extreme. Our weekly menu is boring and redundant. If I eat one more veggie burger any time soon, I will scream. Lucy will not eat anything these days. I suspect she's as bored with her culinary horizons as I am. Maybe some in-person impulse buying at the grocery store would be good for the whole family. I'll let you know.