Relax already!

Somewhere in the process of moving across the country with two kids in tow (me, mostly on my own) and a crazy work travel schedule (Hubs, mostly on his own), Hubs and I forgot how to have fun together.

This year, we've resolved, if you want to call it that, to change things. First up, cross country ski lessons. After Christmas we went out and splurged on the gear. Last night we had our first lesson together followed by a late bite to eat nearby. We had such a good time, laughing and talking about the experience. It really felt like a date. We were having so much fun, in fact, that Hubs left his Blackberry in the car when we went into the restaurant. Seriously.

This morning I expected to be sore, but oddly enough I feel great, except that my right hand is a little tender from the death grip I had on my ski pole. The instructor kept telling us to relax our hands and hold the poles gently. After a good bit of shuffling back and forth on a mostly level track, I finally got a feel for the motion of the skis, but apparently I need to work on that relaxing thing.

More lessons on letting go. Ah the irony.

Wisdom from Walden Pond

Today I took a little field trip to Walden Pond. I thought, before I went, that it might be one of those places that wouldn't meet expectations. I was wrong. Of course, it is quite stunning. I don't think I have ever seen pond water quite so clear. In the south, the ponds are brackish, soupy.

And yes, the whole idea of Walden seems wonderful. The little cabin in the woods with a stove and a patch of beans and time to write. Before I had kids, it might have seemed a little too pioneeresque, too austere, but now I get it. Lock me up alone in the little house in the woods with my laptop and a case (or two) of wine. Not for two years certainly, but maybe for the weekend.

I walked the perimeter of the pond stopping at various vantage points to take in the scenery. Near the end of the loop there is a site near the original cabin, where people leave stones. A couple was there, placing stones in a little pile.

"Don't you want to leave yours with mine so they can be together?" The woman asked. The guy picked up his pile and put them around hers, making a little stack about three stones high.

"Are you sure you want to take that chance?" she asked, referring to the stack he'd made, "They might all fall." He shrugged and she reached down to rearrange his stack.

Geez lady, I thought, just let him put his rocks where he damn well pleases. And then I realized that the whole scenario, and the reason she irritated me, reminded me of myself.

Come closer, be with me, but do it on my terms.

I was thinking the whole way around the pond, that I wanted to come back with Hubs. Soon, before it gets too cold and just the two of us without the kids. Maybe I'll pack a picnic, some soup in a thermos, and show him the loop. I'll start us out in the direction so that the end of the path will take us to the cabin site, just so he gets the full experience, the building up to it.

But then, when we get there I'll give him his own space. I'll watch him pile his rocks anywhere he wants. Or not at all, that's okay too.

Come closer. Just be with me.

Home improvement

Over the weekend Hubs and I embarked on a minor home improvement project.

I decided to move a West Elm filing cabinet into our family room and re-purpose it for toy storage. The change was initiated by the purchase of a fantastic set of lockers that I got for our office/art room (the lockers are red and I love them so much, an entire post kind of love). The addition of the lockers displaced another smaller storage piece, also from West Elm, and it wound up in the family room. Once the smaller piece was gone, the file cabinet looked enormous and out of place. Since I sold my business, and I don't really need so much filing space, and it didn't really match, out came the file cabinet too.

The home improvement part came up because the cabinet is so heavy that when the drawers are all the way out, it tips forward a little. We are not in the habit of going overboard with the childproofing, but it needed some anti-tipping brackets if we were going to use it in the family room and allow the kids to open and close it regularly.

This is where things started to break down.

You see, Hubs and I cannot seem to work together on any task requiring tools without bickering. We usually get along pretty well. I like the guy. Really I do. But put a screwdriver in his hand and it's on.

It starts out innocently enough, with him trying to find a stud, and me hovering in the background. Then words are exchanged about the method he has devised for securing the cabinet. A second trip to the hardware store is made and a real patent-pending childproof anti-tipping bracket is purchased. More searching for the right place to secure it to the wall and a heated discussion over whether the cabinet has to be taken apart. The cabinet is moved three times.

Then he mentions something about his engineering degree.

And I am all, did you just call me stupid?

Finally the cabinet was fixed in place. But then, at the end of it, our relationship is the thing at risk of tipping over, threatening to crush him or me, or one of the kids.

And I wonder where they sell the kit to fix that little problem?