there's a certain magic that happens at the beginning of winter. the quietness. the celebrations of light and love and life.
we did our best to enjoy a quiet holiday season and carry the magic through the new year, and it was fantastic. then reality hit.
my husband is out on a long business trip (currently on day nine of who knows how many - hopefully less than 20), emery spent a good three days nonstop vomiting (growth spurt) (i have faith he'll eventually grow out of his EE) (i call it faith, you call it delusion; po-tae-toe, poh-tah-toe). the boys are back to school and back to constantly bickering.
our days are spent snuggling up, staying warm.
and cleaning the basement. oh, the basement.
there's been no shying around that my husband is a hoarder. and for as much as he's a hoarder, i'm a pack rat. the difference, of course, being he holds on to things we'll never use again (two tubs of broken toys, four boxes of old newspapers from his college years he "still wants to read," outdated science books, boxes and boxes of items we no longer own, magazines i threw out but he saved) and i hold on to things of sentimental value (my mom's old letters, little tin treasures from childhood packed with hello kitty pushpins and pencil toppers, tiny wee baby tshirts my boys wore, and every single camera and lens i have ever own). we've thrown gobs and gobs of stuff down there to "sort through on another day" and apparently that day has come.
of course, "day" meaning "months" and as soon as i think i'm close to being done i realize i'm not. but isn't that how life is? at least for me. perception versus reality and what it all boils down to is attitude.
and i choose to do my best to have a good attitude. so if you start to see totally bizarre pictures of my hello kitty treasures do not be alarmed.