Waves of Emotion and Unseasonal Pirates

The waves of adventure, mayhem, hilarity and moodiness have been washing over me so quickly that I have been spending all my free energy catching my breath and Christmas shopping. There hasn’t been much time for writing.

I get a little anxious when my cup gets full. I know I shouldn’t be anxious, and I’m pretty good at letting the big things go, open handed. It’s the little things, the things that I should be able to manage, that send me spiraling into the sea. For example, there is a Pirate Skeleton in my clothes closet. He has been lurking in there since Halloween, thanks to my beloved husband.

I forget about him until I need a clean shirt. Then I have to push his pirate parts out of the way and I think to myself, “WHY oh WHY is he still in my closet? My life is a perfect graveyard of buried housework. Nothing will ever be right. I’m a bad parent. My sons are going to grow up expecting their wives to leave pirates in their closets all year, and I want so much MORE for them.”

Seriously. This happens.

I should just go take that thing down, now while I’m remembering him, but I will probably forget after I finish this post, and the pirate will continue to haunt my socks and jeans.

The point is, I’m teetering right now. Holidays can do this to a person. Especially an absent minded, day dreaming perfectionist like myself.

The thing is, there is no sin in leaving Halloween decorations up all year long. I don’t think. Probably.

NO. There isn’t! If I don’t get around to moving Pirate Bones McGee it’s okay. If I don’t bother to fold underwear and throw them in to the drawer in a organic mass, that’s okay too. If I never learn to sew, if I never make my boy’s bed, if I don’t paint my toe nails and let them chip their way into oblivion, it is OKAY.

Not all of us are Martha Stewart. SOME of us don’t even own a glue gun. It is NOT WRONG TO WRITE directly onto the wrapping paper in a permanent marker instead of making a cutsie gift card.

Life is more than gift cards and crafts and timely holiday decoration removal.

There are some things I may have MISSED if I had been worrying about Martha standards. Things that are important. Things that are hilarious.

Behold, a recent conversation with my 4 year old:

“So, what is your favorite kind of dog?”


“Oh really? I didn’t know you liked bulldogs,” I say as I sip my coffee.

“YEA! But I want my bulldog to have really big HORNS!” he continues and I start to choke on my coffee, “BIG HORNS TO STAB SNICKERS WITH!”

Snickers is our dog. She is a small, tortured soul in the body of a neurotic Yorkshire terrier. Β And no, I did not break the news to my son that Bulldogs are hornless. Let him live the dream a little longer.

Linking up at Chatting at the Sky for Tuesdays Unwrapped.

29 thoughts on “Waves of Emotion and Unseasonal Pirates

  1. Agreed. Agreed.

    I love your voice and the way you paint motherhood. Real. You should write a parenting book. I'd read it. Yes, siree.

    Oh, and I didn't even know people folded underwear. . .ha! It certainly doesn't happy here.


  2. True story: last night, the Swede and I were sitting on the sofa watching some mindless television show together. I think there were dinosaurs. Anyway. I stood up and announced I was going upstairs to clip my toenails. I'd been meaning to for some while but just couldn't get around to doing it. Your chipped toenail comment reminded me of that.

    Good call, letting your guy dream the dream a little while longer.


  3. BULLDOGS DON'T HAVE HORNS? You know you have to be more gentle when you're breaking this kind of news to us.

    And I was actually thinking of that picture of your husband recently, and I missed it. It's like you knew. That picture is hilarious.


  4. ohman. hilarious conservations with small people is so on my top 5 list of things i want to happen everyday. along with baby kisses. laughing with my husband. hearing God's whispers and a tie between yummy food and the exultation of jumping in my fabulous warm bed. nope– not a fancy gift card to be found. i love your perspective… and your humor.. and your heart. πŸ™‚


  5. Last year I wrote the names straight onto the wrapping paper with a Sharpie.

    I also didn't send out Christmas cards last year.

    Christmas still happened.

    The Sharpies will be back this year but so will the Christmas card.

    Do what you gotta do, my friend.


  6. Martha (bless her heart!) is one of the worst things to happen to American women in a long time! She is the reason I am surprised when someone tells me I am doing a good job and getting lots done! I can never live up to her standards, and that's okay.
    Thank you for reminding me of this. It's not even December yet, so it's okay that my Christmas decorations are still in boxes in the closet, and my autumn/Thanksgiving stuff is still out.


  7. yes. yes, let him live the dream. and really, why don't they have horns? i mean, come on now. and i always write on wrapping paper with a permanent marker… sometimes i even use a pen, and then you can't see who it's for, and we all sit around trying to read a barely there name. and it's all okay.


  8. i don't think you should worry about skeletons in the closet or martha stewart decorations. just draw a flower on the package with your magic marker. or better yet, a bulldog. with horns.


  9. Your pirate skeleton can come have lunch with Bubby's lion costume and Bugaboo's mouse that I move every day from the pack-n-play to our bed when the toddler I babysit takes a nap. There may also be a few pieces of Halloween candy (the stupid candy like smarties and nerds) in the box of Halloween stuff. Every day I say, “I need to do something with this.” I had an “I'm not Martha meltdown” when I couldn't figure out how to arrange the furniture with our very sad looking Christmas tree. You are not alone, friend! πŸ™‚


  10. You named your Pirate “Bones McGee”?

    Ours is “Mr. Scary” and if we put him away, the kids wouldn't be able to put him on all year long.

    How else would they torment our dogs?
    (In the absence of horns, that is.)

    So you see. Everything has its season.
    And some things have all four.

    I figure as long as BMG doesn't steal your coffee, you're good to go.


  11. We are so much the same. I took my 6 jack-o-lanterns upstairs, today, and tucked them into my closet. I hauled 4-foot Santa downstairs and plugged him in. My mantle, my porch? Still halloween. An honest-to-goodness babysitter is coming tomorrow, and I'm embarrassed for her to see my house. Yet, here I sit. I wish we were neighbors.


  12. Girl, I miss you.

    I'm not Martha, either and it took me a long time to be okay with that. But I am now. In fact, I'm so comfortable in my own non Martha skin, my neighbor rang my doorbell yesterday and said, “I see, you're combining the holidays.” My pumpkins were still stacked prettily in front of my doors, the doors with the Christmas wreaths hanging from them.

    And there's nothing wrong with expecting a pirate skeleton to be hanging in your closet. In fact, I think we all should expect more out of our closets.

    I gotta go. I think my bulldog got her horns stuck in the hedges again.


  13. I do want you to know that I use a Sharpie to write messages directly onto the wrapping paper every year. A glue gun has never seen the inside of my house. I stop painting my toenails every year in mid-October and don't start up again until the sandals come out in May (and you would not believe the glorious feeling of liberation I got the first year I decided my toes did not need to be polished all year long). I do not, however, have a pirate in my close. Skeletons yes, a pirate, no.


  14. we can live lives unequal to martha stuart together πŸ™‚

    i am always trying to pass off guilty feelings for not being crafty, not cooking picture-worthy meals, and not staying caught up on my housework.

    but my Savior said in his big Book that there are things more important even than cooking Him a meal if HE were coming over for dinner…so I believe him…and I trust that His hand will guide my priorities πŸ™‚


  15. part of me just wants to give up on christmas altogether, and another part of me wants to cling to all that is magical in it. but why is it that the holidays are always so stressful? this cannot be right. it's the same with sundays… why are they so busy all of the time? i think we've got things mixed up. love you friend. praying your cup empties soon. πŸ™‚


  16. Happily found you on Julie Gardner's blogroll! I love your blog. Screw Martha. Conversations with 4-year olds are much more important. Plus, kids don't remember all the little things we obsess about. They remember conversations about bulldogs! I want to squeeze your adorable little bulldog with horns loving boy.


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