Just Call Me Martha...

When I made the decision to stay home with N, I had visions of my new life as a full time mom and homemaker.

Since I'd be home all the time, I figured I'd have time to make homemade dinners every night  more nights than not,  keep the house spotless relatively clean, and get in touch with my inner Martha Stewart around the holidays.

I soon discovered that there was just one thing--well, one thing at that particular moment-- that was preventing me from getting in touch with my inner Martha.

The baby.

Who was I kidding? There was no time for homemade meals every night. Or cleaning, let alone decorating. My days were consumed by breast milk and diapers. And then by baby food and diapers. And then by solid food and diapers.

And then, when I thought there might actually be a light at the end of the Tunnel of Lactation and Elimination, it started all over again.

And then again.

I'm not complaining. Not in the least little bit. But I did have to adjust my expectations just a little. Fortunately, I was never much of a domestic diva even before kids, so it wasn't too hard to adjust to the fact that, with the exception of nesting induced cleaning frenzies in the weeks before each child was born, my house wouldn't really be clean again for another eighteen years or so.

I did manage to get back to cooking dinner practically every night.

Some nights, someone even eats it.

At times, though, I still have delusional episodes where I become inspired, as I sit in front of the TV watching decorating shows and eating bon bons, to try once more to get in touch with my inner Martha.

So yesterday, as I was shopping all by myself, I had a few minutes to browse. I'm not sure how I was shopping all by myself. In fact, now that I'm writing this, I'm not sure that I really was shopping all by myself. I know there weren't three kids with me. I don't think there were two with me. But there may have been one with me. Well, whatever. Shopping with one is almost like shopping all by myself.

Anyway, me and little whoever-may-or-may-not-have-been-with-me were looking at festive Fall place mats. They had bright orange pumpkins on them. They had colorful leaves on them. Some even had "Fall" spelled out in various shades of orange and brown. And, since my inner Martha Stewart learned long ago to lower her standards when it comes to decorating, I thought they'd look great on our dining room table.

I put them on the table today when N was at school and B and O were napping, and was quite proud of my inner Martha as I stood back and looked at them.

OK, so I hadn't made them myself, and it's not like they surrounded a hand made ceramic pumpkin, or even a hand carved pumpkin. But really, who has time to be Martha Stewart? I'm convinced Martha Stewart doesn't even really have time to be Martha Stewart. She just has enough money to pay other people to be Martha Stewart once she's had enough of herself.

The important thing is, we had place mats in a variety of festive colors, and Martha or not, Fall was clearly in the air.

Having accepted several years ago that Jimmy doesn't give a shit care all that much about these types of things, I didn't bother to show him our new festive place mats. But I knew N would appreciate them when she got home. After she walked in the house, I pointed to the table and said,

"So? What do you think?"

She looked at the table and smiled, as she said "Those are pretty. What are they?"

Huh.

I'm wondering if it's actually possible that she's never seen place mats on our table before, when B comes downstairs and says, "Mom, why are there big napkins all over the table?"

Oh.

Maybe it is possible.

I bring O downstairs a few minutes later. I show him the pretty pumpkins on one of the place mats. He's looking at the other place mat--the one that spells out "Fall" in various shades of orange and brown.

"F!" he says

I point out the other letters and spell out Fall.

He is stuck on F.

He is pointing to the pumpkin as he says "F..F...F"

"No O, there's no F in pumpkin", I tell him.

But we do have new effin place mats.

Happy Fall.