August 14, 2018 · 9:15 AM

Piecemeal Decorating: The Kids’ Star Wars Bathroom

Star Wars Song Lyric of the Day:

Well, I’m not dumb, but I can’t understand / How he can lift me in the air just by raising his hand / Oh, my Yoda / Yo-yo-yo-yo / Yoda yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda

“Weird Al” Yankovic / “Yoda“

I love decorating our house. The problem is I can’t do a big project, like the whole upstairs living room or the basement, all at one time due to budgetary restrictions (as in we have no decorating budget). So I’ve taken to doing projects bit by bit. I scour the internet — OK, mostly Pinterest — looking for ideas for the rooms/spaces I want to tackle, then I start buying furniture or decor when our budget allows or when there’s a fantastic sale. Et voila: Piecemeal Decorating.

When Coraline decided she wanted her and Sebastian’s bedroom redone in a Star Wars theme, she quickly concluded that their bathroom should match, too. Until now, the hall bathroom the kids use has been known as the Old-Man Bathroom thanks to the walk-in tub in there. My initial half-assed attempt at decorating that bathroom was to hang up the black-and-white ’70s-era shower curtain my mom gave me and a matching zebra-striped bath mat. I remembered the shower curtain fondly from our days in Charlotte, so I was happy to discover Mom still had it. Coraline’s only comment about it at the time was, “Look at that. It’s boobs!” Which pretty much sums it up. And yes, I still have it. I will keep it forever. I mean, look at it. It’s awesome.

I like to think the pattern is called It Came From the Seventies.

As Coraline got a bit older, she gave me input on what she liked or didn’t like for her bathroom. We ended up buying a cute fabric owl-patterned shower curtain from Target and a little zigzag bath rug (also from Target) with colors that matched. We bought a toothbrush holder (one guess as to where it’s from) that says “Brush Your Teeth” in matching colors. And we painted the built-in cabinet a teal blue to match; it also broke up the monotony of the white cabinets against pale tile walls.

When she decided on Star Wars, I asked if she wanted classic or new Star Wars. Being a huge fan of Rey and Finn, you can guess which Star Wars era she chose; I, of course, had been hoping she’d choose classic, but it’s not my bathroom. I then took to the interwebs to find ideas and get her opinions on what I found. I started a Pinterest page for their bathroom on which I pinned a whopping two things. At least the Pinterest board I started for ideas for their bedroom has a lot more pins, thanks in large part to me showing Coraline how to pin things; I’d search for a particular item, and she’d run with it.

The first item we bought for the bathroom was the easiest to agree on: the shower curtain. We found this guy on Amazon.

Star Wars shower curtain

This even came with Star Wars-branded matching shower curtain rings.

I — surprisingly — found a lot of Star Wars-themed bath rugs online. I was partial to a Death Star one, but Cora put the kibosh on that. I soon found this BB-8 bath mat at Bed, Bath & Beyond, and she decided that was the one she wanted.

While picking up the rug at Bed, Bath & Beyond, I came across this BB-8 lotion dispenser, which we decided to use as a soap dispenser. It works well with the Creamy Luxe or Nourishing soaps we like at Bath & Body Works, although we can’t use the Exfoliating soaps in this as the micro beads will jam up the pump.

Next we started looking for bath towels. We agreed these towels from Target were cute, were new Star Wars-themed, and matched the shower curtain. We bought two, one for Coraline and one for Sebastian. We also bought a 4-pack of matching washcloths. We also chose this R2-D2 trash can and set it next to the vanity.

BB-8 and R2-D2 forever

Coraline’s new Star Wars shower curtain, bath mat, and towels.

Next up were hand towels. Again, so many websites had so many options, but we ended up choosing these BB-8 ones from Kohl’s.

We’re pretty happy with how the bathroom turned out. It’s still not completely done, though — it needs an updated vanity light, but that will have to wait a bit. I won’t get started on how much I want to take down the floor-to-ceiling tile walls and replace them with drywall someday.

Coraline and Sebastian’s newly Star Wars-decorated bathroom.

Even though I was happy with how the bathroom now looked, I still wanted a little something for the walls. I did a lot of Googling and found a Yoda graphic, which I printed on glossy photo paper and put in an empty IKEA Ribba frame i already had. We happened to have some Command strips in the house, too, which ended up working perfectly for hanging the frame on the tile wall. I also still might buy some cute Star Wars-themed bathroom prints on Etsy — there are so many neat ones to choose from.

Personal hygiene important it is

All told, it took us a few weeks, maybe between two and three months, to find and agree on everything we ended up buying for the kids’ bathroom. We spent less than $125 total by shopping on sale, taking advantage of free in-store pickups and free shipping, using coupons, and paying with store cards for an extra percentage off items purchased online or in-store.

And now you know how we piecemeal-decorated the kids’ bathroom. Gotta start small, right?

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August 13, 2018 · 8:30 AM

I Screen, You Screen, We All Screen for Screen-Free Time

Screen-Free Song Lyric of the Day:

Hey / Put the cellphone down for a while / In the night there is something wild / Can you hear it breathing? / And hey / Put the laptop down for a while

Arcade Fire / “Deep Blue“

A few months ago I instituted screen-free evenings at home. My goal was to spend focused quality time with my family without the distraction of screens. Also, having struggled with popcorn brain for some time now and working all day on a computer, detoxing from screens is something I feel I occasionally need to do.

I let Rich and Coraline know a few days in advance that I’d like for us to designate a particular evening as screen-free so they both have time to think about or plan what we can do on those nights. We usually end up playing board games (Cora’s getting quite good at Clue Junior) or enjoying family coloring time, or a mix of both. And now that Coraline is a big reader, we also enjoy time where we’re all just reading our respective books; this either requires Sebastian be in a good mood and playing with some toys or him going to bed early if he is, shall we say, not in an agreeable mood.

On screen-free nights, we also try to be as device-free as possible. Which means no music streaming from Alexa or even the CD player. Quiet time means quiet time. As Rich and I both always have our phones on us (bad, I know), we silence them and leave them in a room we are not going to be hanging out in. The thing I miss most about not having my phone on screen-free evenings is not being able to immediately Google things that come up in our discussions. It’s not like we have a set of encyclopedias sitting around, waiting to be cracked open. Also, it turns out I rely on Google A LOT.

Our pets also benefit from screen-free evenings. Troubadour and Capone are always game for a neighborhood walk, while Buster has his choice of laps if we’re all sitting around reading. It’s a win-win for all of us.

When we first started having screen-free nights, I think we were all a bit hesitant to dive in. As I mentioned, Rich and I are pretty attached to our phones (so bad). And Cora and I like to watch a bit of Psych together (we’re almost done with season five), so that’s out on screen-free nights. Sebastian is not screen-addicted yet, but he’s definitely very screen-interested. It’s an active battle with him to keep him away from screens as we’re still trying to limit his exposure. We’re not doing as good a job as we did with Cora at the same age, but we do try. Although sometimes to buy myself a few minutes of relative peace, I’ll pull up the PBS Kids app on the Roku and put on Sesame Street. Sebastian LOVES it (“Street!”) and I feel a bit less guilty for letting him watch a few minutes of TV because it’s educational. Educational TV makes it OK, right?

I’d like to make screen-free time at least a weekly thing for us. Now that school has started again, that’ll help us get into a routine again, so we can designate a certain day as screen free. It’s validating to know Coraline likes it — she actually asks if we can have a screen-free evening or if we can designate a few hours on the weekend. So at least I’m doing one thing right. Right?

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August 10, 2018 · 9:00 AM

Photoblogging: Troubadour

Rich gave me a portrait lens last Christmas, so I immediately tried it out on one of my favorite subjects.

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August 9, 2018 · 9:00 AM

Decompression

Song Lyric of the Day:

This is the time to give you a reason / This is the time to bare our soul / This is the time to tell you the real truth

Unloved / “This Is the Time“

If you read what I posted yesterday, then you can safely and correctly assume I’ve been very stressed of late. Things are a bit calmer now as I am down to only talk therapy, having wrapped up physical therapy a few weeks ago. But for a while there it was, ironically, a lot of driving to deal with the physical and emotional/anxiety issues I developed after our car accident. I’d have to leave work at least a half hour ahead of my physical therapy appointments to get there on time. I’d have to leave work at least 15-20 minutes ahead of my talk therapy appointments to get there on time. Then I’d have to drive back to work or home to get back to work; having a “portable” job I could remote in to was a sanity-saver more times than I could count. I’d also work at night sometimes after the kids were in bed to make up for time I missed during the day. All these appointments and extra drive time resulted in a lot of short lunches at my desk. Which, if you know me at all, was hitting me where it hurt as lunchtime is a sacred time for me. I either go to lunch with a few of my close work friends or I take a book with me for a solo lunch. Not being able to do that and have that time to socialize and/or decompress just ended up further contributing to my overall anxiety.

So how did I manage to not go batpoop* insane? Mostly by cleaning and organizing. Cleaning and organizing are my go-tos when I’m stressed out; I imagine my therapist would say it’s because that way I’m restoring order and controlling what I can. (See? Therapy works!) I went on a lot of benders around the house, whipping this or that into shape and tackling various projects. I printed and framed more photos for our hall gallery wall. I organized cabinets. I whipped my home office desk into shape. I tackled the kids’ closet; it’s still not done, but it’s better. I would do such deep cleans in the kitchen it’s a wonder the counters aren’t translucent now. The areas where I was happiest with my results were either the kitchen or the living room, my family’s main hangouts, because Sebastian is a tiny, fast wrecking ball who leaves his toys EVERYWHERE.

Living Room Toy Area

The tidied living room lasts approximately 3 minutes once Sebastian hits it.

Days I ate lunch at my desk, I made sure to read even just a few pages of my book. I would try to take short walks with my work wife. At home at night, I would stretch out on the couch after tucking the kids in bed, let Buster settle in my lap, and binge-watch shows. I highly recommend Dark and The Chalet on Netflix; they’re both pretty dark, violent shows, but if you’re looking for happy, Hallmark-y show recommendations, well, you’re barking up the wrong tree. (I also just started The Frozen Dead, another dark French show.)

I’ve also tried to get back into writing and blogging. There’s something really cathartic about just letting it all out, whether here on the interwebs or just something I wrote for myself on my laptop. (I miss having nice handwriting. Working on a computer has ruined it.) I’m also trying to post more photos on Instagram since it lets me indulge my love of photography on the go. I’m hoping to dust off my DSLR soon and take Coraline on a mommy-daughter photo walk; she’s developing a love of photography and I want to encourage and grow that.

Now that things are finally slowing down a little, I’m just trying to take things one day at a time. Even a few minutes of decompressing is good for my soul and even better for my overall mental health. Getting back to the things I love most, like writing and photography, can only help with that.

*I’m trying to curse less because I have a 20-month-old parrot and an impressionable almost-8-year-old who reads well.

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August 8, 2018 · 2:00 PM

Getting Therapized

 

 

Song Lyric of the Day:

Oh, hard to hold this fire inside me / All I know, sometimes it’s frightening / Hard to hold this fire inside me / Oh, oh oh, it’s not really like me to lash out / I gotta let it out / I wanna lash out

Alice Merton / “Lash Out“

I mentioned recently that life had gotten a little overwhelming of late. A lot of that has had to do with countless therapy appointments, a result of the car accident we were in at the end of March. Both Rich and I have been in physical therapy because of neck and back pain. I recently wrapped up six weeks’ worth of twice-weekly physical therapy sessions, and Rich just wrapped up his therapy. I now miss my wonderful therapist because I totally imprinted on her. I’m hopeful that continuing to do the home exercises she gave me will help keep my neck and back feeling good. There were days where it was hard to simply hold up my head because my neck was so sore, so I’m grateful therapy helped with that.

As I was behind the wheel during the accident, I now have severe driving anxiety. I went back to my regular therapist, a psychologist, to try to help with that. She’s had me do EMDR therapy to really focus on the accident. That means I’ve had to relive the accident several times, multiple times each therapy session. I didn’t realize until my doctor pointed it out, but the only time I would cry when recounting the accident to her is when I would describe hearing Coraline and Sebastian screaming and not knowing if they were OK. EMDR has been as fun and emotionally draining as you imagine it would be.

This anxiety has pretty much ruined driving for me. Driving, once such a simple pleasure in my life, is now something that scares me, especially if the weather is bad as we were rear-ended on a rainy day. If the weather is bad or just looking like it might turn, I’ll do my best to avoid going anywhere. I have to fight to not look in the rearview mirror once I’ve come to a stop, because I tense up watching the car behind me approach. It might look like it’s going too fast to stop in time, or — lord help me — if it’s rainy out, I’m terrified they’ll lose traction and slam into me like the driver in our wreck did. As anyone knows, tensing up is the worst thing you can do if you might get hit, so I have to continually remind myself to NOT LOOK IN THE MIRROR.

I do breathing exercises when I start my van first thing in the morning, and I usually end up doing them at stoplights and stop signs to calm myself down if something scared me into thinking I was going to get hit again. Coraline knows I’m seeing a therapist for this, and, luckily, she doesn’t hear my internal monologue when I’m freaking out as outwardly I manage to keep it together. I’m grateful that not only were both my kids physically unharmed in the wreck, but they both avoided developing any anxiety like I now have about being in the van.

We recently drove to Columbus, Ohio, to visit close friends, and at one point during the 6-hour drive there, I started to feel as close to a panic attack as I’ve ever been. I was in the front passenger seat and had to fight to not ask Rich to pull over, because I just didn’t want to be driving anywhere anymore. The best comparison I have is that it felt like when you get on a scary thrill ride and immediately want to get off, but you can’t. You have no choice but to see it through. All the other cars on the highway felt like threats to me — they were driving too fast or too close or had distracted drivers or were right on our tail. They felt like threats to me, anyway. I managed to talk myself down by reminding myself that Rich is a careful driver and would never intentionally put me or (especially) the kids in any danger. Clearly, I still have a ways to go with therapy for my driving anxiety.

As if the anxiety alone isn’t enough to deal with, my van is still not completely fixed. The body shop (DO NOT use Abra) we unfortunately chose did a crappy job of “fixing” things. As in, it turns out they left out the entire radio harness that should be in the liftgate that communicates with the 20+ computers my van has. We ended up having the Chrysler dealership fix that as I don’t want Abra touching my van ever again, lifetime work warranty be damned. So what’s the problem with my van now? The blind spot detector works maybe 5 minutes a day whenever I’m driving. Which means the entire rest of the time I’m driving it’s constantly dinging — it dings to let me know BLIND SPOT DETECTION UNAVAILABLE and to SERVICE BLIND SPOT SYSTEM. All those dings are fantastic for my anxiety, especially when they happen at the same moment I make a turn or change lanes and it scares the hell out of me. The dealership ran a computer diagnostic on the blind spot system which came back all clear, so after some Googling, I think the problem is in the bumper/wire connections somewhere. Given that the body shop screwed up the liftgate repair, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if they messed up repairing bumper connections, too.  I have an appointment on the books to take my van back to the dealership so they can try to figure this issue out, and I’ll have to get another rental van which — you guessed it — increases my anxiety as I am then in an unfamiliar-to-me vehicle.

Almost every day after March 24 has been like this for me. It’s been a vicious cycle, one which I hope, no, NEED therapy to help me out of.

Two words.

Therapy.

*You have no idea how much Googling it took to find these clips. It’s one of my favorite quotes from So I Married an Axe Murderer, and I couldn’t find a full video clip anywhere. Alas, a website called Yarn saved the day.

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July 11, 2018 · 8:30 AM

One Day Post at a Time

Song Lyric of the Day:

So, bless my heart and bless my mind / I got so much to do, I ain’t got much time

Alabama Shakes / “Hold On“

I’ve made my peace with not being able to update here every day. I work outside the home most days, and it’s hard to find the time to write on a good day, nearly impossible on a bad/busy/interrupted day. I can always go the nocturnal-blogging route again, but I’ve been working hard to get to bed at a decent time on weeknights. I had lights out at 10:45 the other night — that’s a recent record. If I have lights out by 11:45 on most nights, I’m ahead of the game.

It’s OK that I haven’t posted a lot lately as not much is going on, other than life getting a bit overwhelming here and there (more on that another day). We drop the kids off at camp or Abuela’s house and day care, go to work, pick up the kids, and have family time in the evenings. We take care of household chores as time permits once the kids are in bed and based on what else we need to do, like cleaning up the trail of destruction I routinely leave in the kitchen when I cook. I am not a neat cook by any means; Rich once commented that when I cook it looks like the kitchen blew up. He’s not that far off with that assessment. On weekends we bust our asses catching up on housework and errands we can’t get done during the work week, because once I’m home from work and the pants have come off, I’m not going out again.

There’s a reason that the big bloggers I read post daily or at least with regular, scheduled frequency — they work from/at home and their blogs are their source of income. Which is obviously not the case for me. If I did have those 40 hours (plus commute time) at home every week, and didn’t have to work? Oh, the things I could get done:

I’d have the house looking like a show home, gleaming like the top of the Chrysler building (ha).

I’d actually — heaven forbid — plan meals and cook on a semi-regular basis. Well, at least more than I do now, anyway.

I’d get laundry done in a timely manner instead of a crap-the-kids-don’t-have-any-clean-shorts-left manner.

I’d be able to run errands at my own pace sans children.

Things would be more organized than they currently are, with things in the proper place instead of carefully controlled chaos.

I could work on landscaping projects early in the day before it heats up too much for me to be outside.

I could update my blog with some regularity.

I could work on my book and maybe even finish it someday.

Toys wouldn’t always be scattered all over upstairs in Hurricane Sebastian’s wake.

This is all also assuming that we would still have Sebastian in day care most days, but if I didn’t work outside the home he would not spend as many hours per day there as he does now.

I would be killing it as a mom and wife, instead of feeling like I fail in a million different little ways every day.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

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April 17, 2018 · 8:30 AM

A Conversation With Coraline: Abandon Ship

“Were you alive when The Titanic sank?”

“No. No one you know was alive when it sank.”

“Not even Abuela?”

“Oh my God. It sank one hundred six years ago! She would be horrified to hear you think she’s that old.”

“Don’t tell her!”

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April 4, 2018 · 8:30 AM

Hurdy-GERDy

Song Lyric of the Day:

When the going gets tough / And the stomach acids flow

Primus / “Seas of Cheese“

As long as I can remember, I’ve had what was simply called a sensitive stomach. It wasn’t until about five years ago that I officially got the diagnosis of irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). Irritable is an appropriate word for it, since it’s beyond irritating not knowing how something I eat is going to affect me. I can eat a certain meal Monday at lunch and be fine. I can have that exact same meal the next day or two days later and end up feeling like I might die. IBS is pretty much a really awful game of chance, with your stomach as the perpetual loser. I try to manage it — I know any food with high-fructose corn syrup is a huge trigger — but it’s not always easy to do so. I’ve learned to live with it, though. Combined with my wonky taste buds, it’s made me a (frustrated) picky eater out of necessity. I try to avoid trigger foods, but some I refuse to give up. I mean, spaghetti sauce? Yes, it’s acidic, but it’s also delicious and worth whatever I might have to deal with for indulging. I’ll go to my grave a bloated, stomach-cramped pasta-lover.

While I’m used to my IBS-related issues, last summer I noticed I was feeling really horrible pretty much around the clock. I at first thought maybe it was just my IBS being worse than usual, but decided to go see my gastroenterologist just in case. After discussing my symptoms, frequency, etc., my doc decided I should get an upper GI endoscopy. The day of the test came, and my friend Tamara drove me so Rich could get the kids to school and to Mom’s. Come scope time, I passed out as expected and woke up in a recovery room some time later. My doctor stopped by to let me know that I had significant scarring in my esophagus from acid reflux and that I had gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD). I was validated in that I wasn’t imagining my IBS had run amok, but I was shocked to hear about the scarring as I’d never felt acid reflux symptoms before — no burning, no pain, nothing. That is, until I was put on medication to treat it. I became aware of and felt every instance of acid reflux within days of starting Pantoprazole, and good grief, did it hurt. It took weeks to stabilize to the point where I was no longer feeling that pain. The really fun part is that a side effect of Pantroprazole happens to be the worst of my IBS symptoms. I am now on two additional medications to treat the reflux and GERD, and still trying to avoid trigger foods, although I’m a stress-eater, so lately I haven’t done as well as I should have. I’ve told the spouse on multiple occasions that I was much happier when I didn’t know all this was going on. Ignorance truly was bliss when it was just me and my IBS.

I’m never going to be the ideal IBS/GERD patient. I know that. Honestly, I just don’t have that kind of willpower. (Also: See above remark about stress-eating.) As it is, I’m currently part Samoa as Girl Scout Cookie season just ended and I have my dealer living in my house. My skin even has a nice, faint toasted-coconut scent to it now. I am, however, doing my best to moderate what I eat as well as add a bit more variety. It’s not easy, but it’s something I know I’ll have to work at and keep an eye on the rest of my life.

Fried Deviled Eggs

The fried deviled eggs at Scrambled Jake’s: so delicious and something I can only eat as a rare treat. (Photo taken by me)

 

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April 3, 2018 · 8:30 AM

Pattie and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Last Couple of Weeks

Song Lyric of the Day:

Won’t you help me sober up / Growing up it made me numb / And I want to feel something again

AJR / “Sober Up“

Life has turned into a country song of late: my hubby got sick; Sebastian got diagnosed with yet another ear infection; my 10-year-old dog, Troubadour, got diagnosed with early kidney failure; and then we were in a car accident.

We had just left Costco the next-to-last Saturday in March when we got rear-ended. We were taking Kingston Pike home as I-40 has been a parking lot of late. We’d gone several blocks when, slowing to a stop at a red light, we heard a car skidding. I looked to my left (I was driving) since for some reason I thought it was that car that was skidding. Wrong. We got hit and it took a moment to register what had happened. I think Coraline started screaming; she was asking over and over, “Were we just in an accident?!?” I think I might have started screaming in between asking if everyone was OK. Sebastian started screaming in reaction to his mom and sister freaking out. Rich was yelling for us to calm down. The man who hit us freaked out when he realized we had kids in the car; I believe he really did feel awful about it. His 1990-something Ford Bronco, a nice steel behemoth, ended up with only a loose grill. Not even a ding. My Chrysler Town and Country minivan, on the other hand …

Wrecked

The liftgate took the brunt of the impact. The dinosaur sticker survived.

But it could have been worse. That’s what we keep telling ourselves. Rich and I have both had some neck and back twinges since, starting right there at the accident site for me. I’m still dealing with some anxiety driving the rental van while my van is being repaired. The back roads and I have become closer than ever since they are not as heavily traveled as Kingston Pike, Middlebrook Pike, or the interstate. Fewer cars means less chance of getting hit again, right? (Fingers and toes crossed.) Being in an accident, although minor (thank God), was a literal manifestation of the only recurring nightmare I have, one that started when we were living in Chesapeake. And it was so much worse when it actually happened because both our kids were in the van. But we’re OK. We’re OK. Most importantly, my babies are OK.

The van will be fixed soon (I hope), and we are now driving a rental van that doesn’t stink – literally. The Nissan Quest we got at first had not been properly cleaned, had only half a tank of gas, and reeked of cigarette smoke. Cigarette smoke covered up with cheap air freshener. It smelled like what I imagine a vehicle smells like after a cologne-saturated, chain-smoking Johnny Depp is left in a car with all the windows rolled up on a hot day. Yes, that bad. Coraline would start complaining as soon as the doors opened. Also, the Quest had a meh design. It did accelerate like a race car, though, and had XM satellite radio, but those were the only pros on the list. FYI: Don’t rent from the Hertz at Windsor Square in Knoxville; we went with Hertz as Rich has President’s Circle status. Hertz corporate WILL be getting our feedback on that particular location and the vehicle, and it will not be good. At all. Thankfully, the airport Hertz location has its act together. I am now happily driving a CLEAN, fresh-scented Kia Sedona. It doesn’t have the same race-car pickup as the Quest, but it accelerates nicely and has a design we all like much better. Overall, I think it’s a much better minivan than the Quest. It does not have XM satellite radio, but I’m surviving with CDs. First-world problems and all. The tl; dr for this whole paragraph: Hertz Windsor Square, BAD. Hertz McGhee-Tyson Airport, GOOD. Nissan Quest: MEH. Kia Sedona: GOOD.

That’s the car stuff. The sick stuff is becoming par for the course, although it’s frustrating, especially with regard to Sebastian’s umpteenth ear infection. As for Troubadour, I’m still processing that. Our vet, who we love and has taken care of many of our four-legged babies over the years, was quick to say that this doesn’t mean Troubadour won’t live for a few more years. Which I pray he does. He’s my second-oldest son, after all. We’re doing our best to keep him comfortable and ensure he’s hydrated. He’s still a heavy drinker, which is good. After five vet visits — including one to the animal ER and two days of IV treatments — in one week, he’s starting to show flashes of his normal, healthy personality again. Last night he even mugged Sebastian, stealing his cracker. I never thought I’d be happy about that, but there you have it. I firmly believe my thieving dog has a lot more living left to do.

Troubadour at the ER

With his head in Mommy’s hand at the animal ER

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March 14, 2018 · 9:00 AM

The Dark Between the Covers

Song Lyric of the Day:

Midnight where we used to dance / Underneath the ugly halogen lamps / Oh, it all went away so fast / In a black out

Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam / “In a Black Out“*

I’ve been an avid reader since childhood. I lived for the Scholastic school book fairs. I always had a book handy in high school for when I’d finish a test or assignment early. I managed to read a lot for fun in college, which is easy to do when you’re not a partier and you happen to work every weekend in a bookstore. Then I became an adult.

At the end of a workday, my priorities are figuring out dinner for the family, hanging out with the kids, getting them to bed, then doing housework that I can’t do during the workday. That’s not always how my evening goes, but more often than not, that’s it. By the time I finally manage to sit down to unwind a bit before going to bed, it’s usually pretty late and I’m fairly brain-dead. Which means I end up watching TV with my cat, Buster, in my lap; when your cat makes it to 20 years old, you sit and hang out when that cat wants to sit and hang out. I don’t last long before I doze off on the couch and then drag myself to bed.

This year I’ve made a point to read more. It’s something I love, so why not make it a priority? My most productive uninterrupted reading time is during a solo workday lunch: just me, my book, and some food. Occasionally I’ll even meet up with the spouse and our respective books for a reading lunch. I also take short reading breaks in the afternoon at work. Not every day, but some days. It’s good to not be looking at a computer screen during those little breaks.

While I enjoy reading a variety of genres, I tend to gravitate toward thrillers, the darker the better. I can’t tell you why exactly, just that twisty, scary stories are the ones that suck me in. I just finished reading The Good Daughter by Karin Slaughter and am now reading Look for Me by Lisa Gardner. Next up in my to-read pile are The Woman in the Window by A.J. Finn; The Wife Between Us by Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekkanen; and Two Girls Down by Louisa Luna.

Slaughter and Gardner are among my favorite authors. On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the darkest, Slaughter goes to 11 (see: Pretty Girls) and Gardner can hit 10.5 (see: The Neighbor). My bookcases in my home office are full of their books and other favorites: Tami Hoag, whose Kovac and Liska books are always great; Tess Gerritsen, best known for her Rizzoli and Isles series; Julie Garwood and Linda Howard, who both specialize in romantic thrillers; and Kate White, whose Bailey Weggins series I love.

Books!

Organized alphabetically and chronologically for each author because I couldn’t live any other way.

I recently started reading Paula Hawkins and Ruth Ware; I like their books so much I lent a dear friend the authors’ latest respective works. As for new authors, I enjoyed Riley Sager‘s debut, Final Girls, a lot as it appealed to my horror-movie-loving self: a woman survives a massacre, but all is not as it seems. I also really liked Kathleen Barber‘s Are You Sleeping, which centered on a decades-old murder being reinvestigated on a podcast and its repercussions.

I just realized I listed only female authors above. Nice. I do enjoy books by male authors, as well, including Daniel Silva, Dean Koontz (pretty much a lifelong favorite), David Morrell (his Thomas De Quincey series is phenomenal), Carl Hiaasen, and, of course, Stephen King.

Now you all know what most of my money is spent on: books. Bona-fide printed books. I love the feel of an actual printed book in my hands, and I still get a geeky rush when checking books out of the library. I’m trying to dip my toe into reading ebooks (I’m up to three). Printed books are one of the few ways I can truly unplug since I work on a computer all day; reading an ebook isn’t that appealing to me since it’s another screen.

In the interest of discovering yet more new authors to read, I recently requested some advance reader copies via Penguin Random House‘s First to Read. We’ll see what, if anything, comes of my requests; I think it’s a first-ask, first-serve setup. In the meantime, though, there’s always the library.

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I first heard today’s Song of the Day in an episode of Lucifer. The music and scene together made for small-screen perfection.

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