Beef. It's what's for dinner.

Last week we had a heck of a time getting Jackson to eat "beef pilaf" baby food. It took me three meals to stagger beef-and-bananas, beef-and-peas, beef-and-carrots before the pilaf was gone.

He'll eat chicken, he'll eat turkey...and he'll eat just about any vegetable or fruit. But beef? Spits it out. Plants his mouth shut. Yanks off his bib.

Turns out, he was just waiting for the real thing. Watch as Jackson gives a seal of approval during his introduction to Tolley Beef. Note the sound effects. This went on for 25 minutes.

Jack in the Box

Jackson is at the stage where he is in to e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Tonight we found him rummaging through the cabinets underneath the kitchen sink while Chad was making dinner and I was unloading the dishwasher. That little stinker has gotten lightning fast!

The only way we can seem to contain Hurricane Jackson is by letting him play in one of our moving boxes. It's a good thing we've got plenty of those around - this one kept him entertained for 20 minutes.



PS: DJRR...thanks for the title suggestion. ;)

And they all lived happily ever after

I am only laughing because Chad did not send this to me.

If he had, it would be a very different story.

Bingeing and purging

I'm so behind, I haven't even updated that we bought a new house.

We close in two weeks.

And if you thought I was motivated about getting rid of stuff from my posts in February of 2009 or during my series of posts last year, you people ain't seen nothing yet.

Since we made the decision to move, I have been dead serious about purging the stuff we don't need. I am not taking seven years worth of crap into my new house. So here are the current rules we live by, agreed upon by Ellen and Chad - and Jackson by default:

1) If you forgot you even had it, it goes.

2) If it hasn't been used in the last five years, it goes. (For clothes, amend to: if it hasn't been worn in the last year, it goes. And if you have kept it around all this time thinking that someday you're going to be able to fit into it again...who needs that pressure?!? It goes.)

3) If you have no idea what's even IN that box, the whole blessed thing goes.

4) If the only reason why you still have it is because you'd feel badly getting rid of it...buh-bye, honey. It goes.

5) If it's not something that you want your spouse or your kid to have to sift through when you die, it goes.

In the last two weeks, we have taken a ton of stuff to Goodwill - including five garbage bags of clothes and over 100 books. And we've thrown away our fair share of stuff as well.

But in all the manic throwing-away of things, there have been a few moments where I've stumbled upon something unexpected and smiled. Like this note I found buried in a ridiculous amount of cards and love letters and newspaper clippings from my senior year of high school. They all got pitched but this made the cut:

Among a sea of absolute junk that I've been dragging around with me for 15 years, why on Earth did I keep that? (And why on Earth didn't I keep MORE of that? I love it. I'm keeping it forever. Chad and Jackson can clean it out of the attic when I die, and it will make them smile.)

I wonder how as a parent you make the decision on what to keep and what to pitch. I wonder if I'll have an attic full of Jackson mementos that someday I'll be begging his wife to take off my hands, or if I'll wish I kept around just one more piece of artwork or note on the days I'm reminiscing. I wonder if what I deem "important" enough to keep now will seem totally irrelevant in 15 years. I do wonder, all of these things.

But I ponder all this while I keep decluttering. This has been amazingly liberating and is such an opportunity to prioritize what's important in our lives. So when we move into our first actual house at the end of the month, we'll be doing it without a whole lot of baggage.

Except for the little things I love that will get tucked away until I stumble upon them again.