A moment to savor.

There are moments, many of them with my children, when I think to myself, "remember this" and try to etch it into my brain as one of those memories I can recall when I need a little lifting up.

One of those occurred last night.

Yesterday was the first day of school for our children. I expected tired kiddos when they got home and the usual homework madness and bedtime struggles. What I got was a relatively smooth evening during which Sam and Rachel did the chores I asked them to do, took care of their school work, helped me make dinner, and prepared for this morning.

The pleasantness of the evening was enough to make me very happy. But my favorite part came just after supper when we were all done eating.

The kids lingered at the table. And they talked to me.

I am so used to them jumping up and clearing their dishes so they can get back to whatever it was they were doing before we sat down together. It felt good to sit and listen to them tell me things they were excited about. To laugh together. To just ... be together. No raised voices, no quarreling. Just a conversation.

Who knew something so simple could feel so good?

It's that fall nesting thing.

I am in stock-up mode. I am in full-on, list-making, let's get this place organized and ready for winter mode.

This fall nesting thing is two-fold for me.

One, I want to be prepared. If we get a crazy wicked snow or ice storm and can't get out to get to the grocery store for a couple of days, I don't want to run out of toilet paper or basic food staples. Hence, this time of year I take some extra time to study sale ads and pair them up with coupons to stock my pantry (which is really a set of sturdy shelves in my laundry room) as cheaply as possible.

Here's a glimpse at how it looks today:

I also buy items in bulk at Sam's Club to stock up for the kids' school lunches. It's like ripping off a Band-Aid; it hurts big time, but only temporarily, and then I'm not eating up my grocery budget buying juice boxes and fruit cups every week.

Also along the lines of being prepared, I like to have enough in the cupboards that if we invite someone over for dinner last-minute, or a friend is injured and can't get around the kitchen, or whatever other instance might call for sharing some comfort food, I can whip something together without having to run to the store.

And then there is the remaining sting, however faint, of months of joblessness last year and the concern over whether we would be able to pay all the bills from week to week. We did not worry as much about whether we would eat because we had taken the time to stock up. I don't need any more experiences like that to show me this is a good idea for us.

The other main reason I do this nesting and stocking up thing is because it helps me stay organized, and when I'm organized the mornings and evenings with my children run much more smoothly. Lunches can be almost completely packed before the kids go to bed at night. When they ask me in the evening what we're having for dinner, I have an answer. When they get off the school bus in the afternoon I can have snacks waiting for them so they're not rifling through the cupboards.

I am willing to sacrifice a couple of hours on the weekends to plan our menus and my grocery trips if it means I'll have a little more time for doing other things during the week.

Now if I could just convince the kids that just because we have 12 boxes of cereal doesn't mean we need to have them all open, life would be sweet indeed.

Babies, babies everywhere!

Steve and I have been out of the baby business for years.

Wait. That didn't sound quite right.

Let's just say we made sure it was not physically possible to have any more children after our Rachel was born. It took me a couple of years to convince Steve it was in his our best interest to make sure it wouldn't happen. And - God bless the man - he took care of business. We love our children and I adored their sweet baby faces, but both of them just about killed me when it came time for labor and delivery (OK, that's a slight exaggeration for Child #1, but not so much for Child #2) and even the doctor who delivered Rachel asked at my six-week postnatal checkup, and I quote: "You aren't going to do this again, are you?"

I was 26 and felt blessed beyond measure to have one boy and one girl. I am now 34 and I have never regretted the deliberate decision to not have any more children.

Sam, age 3, and Rachel, 5 months.

You know what makes it easy, though? Friends who have babies!

I have been so fortunate to have plenty of girlfriends over the years who, as my babies grew into toddlerhood and beyond, have had children and who have been willing to share those babies with me so I can sniff their precious heads and squeeze their chubby little thighs. Usually 20 minutes of bouncing playfully with a laughing babe or cuddling quietly with a sleeping babe is enough to fill any void I thought I might be feeling about not having any more wee ones around the house.

In the past year alone, at least four families close to us have welcomed new babies into their worlds and I have just about burst with joy for each of them. Having a baby - or another baby, or a third or fourth baby - changes our lives forever and I am so glad to be able to celebrate with friends as they become parents.

The latest of the new additions occurred just this morning, and I am elated for our friends A & J. I can't wait to hold their sweet baby girl and hug my friends and welcome them to the most rewarding, exhausting, exhilarating, frustrating, heartwarming, insanity-inducing, blessed job in the world: parenthood.

Perspective.

There are certain things I really enjoy about camping.

I love the communal feel of a campground where the neighbors are friendly and will let their dogs stop by to say hello when they're out for their evening walk.

I appreciate the opportunity to spend time outdoors relaxing, cooking on the grill, listening to the insects chirp at each other into the evening.

The smell of campfires.

The way all that activity wears out the children.

Steve has been living in campgrounds all summer long. When the kids and I go to visit him it's a vacation for us, but it's just another week of work for Steve. It's just that when we're there, the people he loves most are waiting for him when he gets "home" for the night. And invading his personal space.

I'm sure there are things Steve still enjoys about camping, but there are probably other things he has gotten used to that he doesn't think twice about now.

Like the teeny-tiny shower in the travel trailer (not very conducive for a woman needing to shave her legs).

Or the lack of counter space in the kitchen area.

Or the necessity for one-ply toilet paper. (It's useless, isn't it?)

Or not knowing your way around town, or the layout of the best grocery store - or even which one is the best. Or not knowing where the nearest Starbucks is. (Kidding. He hates Starbucks.)

Or not having a washer and dryer handy. 

Six days away from home and I couldn't wait to get back. I wanted to sit in my comfortable chair and wash my clothes without having to dig up a handful of quarters for the machines. I wanted to shower in a full-size shower and know that it is very unlikely I would run out of hot water. I wanted to close my bedroom door and get dressed in private without my elbows bumping the walls or accidentally pushing the door open.

As much as I hated to end our visit with Steve, I'm not sure I ever looked forward to coming home as much as I did after this trip.

We don't have much, but we have a place we call home and I like to be here. It's not elaborate. It's not showy. But it sure has all the basics that make for a relatively comfortable existence. I thought about this a lot on the way home; how easily we overlook so many of the everyday things that make our lives easier. That can mean anything from the hot shower and fluffy clean towels to the friends and relatives who live nearby and often make our days a little brighter.

It's a perspective I need to be reminded of now and then, and it always seems to come at just the right time.

I'm just following orders.

"You need to write something or people will get bored."

So says my eight-year-old daughter.

Smart kid. Perhaps she gives me a little too much credit, but she is a smart kid.

We have returned from the last big hurrah vacation, school clothes shopping has been done (ouch), bedtimes are inching closer to 9-ish p.m., and I am trying to feign at least a little disappointment at the fact that beginning next Tuesday the children will be out of my hair away from their loving, devoted mama for nine hours a day.

Tonight is Sam's back-to-school night where he will meet his teacher and have a look around the school. He's moving from the Upper Elementary (grades 3-5) building to the middle school this year. Sixth grade. Exciting stuff. This is the same kid who half joked with me yesterday that if I got too tired driving home to Michigan from W. Virginia, he could probably do it. Then I spent 20 minutes trying to wrap my head around the idea that A) he's already tall enough to reach the pedals, and B) in a few years he will be doing it.

Oh, how time flies.

Things are good with the Pipe Lifers. I could add so much to expound, but each thought could really be its own blog post. And so some of them will be.

Plenty of subject matter for future writing, this life we live.

Until next time ...

This is gonna' hurt.

Rachel and I sorted through her closet today to eliminate the too-small clothes and assess what she'll need for school this fall.

She has nothing left in her closet.

Well. Nearly nothing.

There are a bunch of socks which she says are also too small. I guess we'll find out how many actually fit her when she trades her flip-flops for socks and shoes again.

And there are a couple of hoodie sweatshirts and a stack of pajama bottoms and old t-shirts that she wears to bed.

One long-sleeved shirt.

One sun dress. Two other dresses too frilly to wear to school.

This back-to-school shopping trip has the potential to put the hurt on the pocketbook.

Tomorrow I'll help Sam sort through his clothes, and I'm pretty sure he'll have much the same result as Rachel did. To add to the pain, I already know we will be shopping in the men's section for Sam, which is generally more costly than the boys' section.

I predict an interesting exercise in budgeting and determining wants versus needs as this is the first year I am considering giving each child a portion of their allotted clothing fund to spend however they choose.

Let's hope some of the thriftiness I've modeled for them pays off.

Small change, big impact.

Sometimes I just need a change. I look at certain areas of our home that have looked the same for years and suddenly (or maybe not so suddenly) they appear stagnant. Boring. Screaming to be spiffed up.

Like this counter top in the kitchen, for instance:

It's not horrid. A little cluttered maybe, but I hadn't changed anything because I always told myself these were items we used all the time. That is until the other day when I was scrubbing the splattered I-don't-know-what from the canisters and I realized we haven't used the smaller two canisters for quite some time. And you know what? I don't even really like these canisters anymore.

Yet they've been sitting in the same spot since we moved into this house 10 years ago. High time for a mini makeover in the kitchen, don't you think?

Goodbye canisters. Goodbye old, dull knives. Goodbye rechargeable (but sorta broken) can opener. Cookbooks, back into the cupboard with you. Bananas, off to the newly-designated fruit bowl on another counter.

I spent about $15 on new jars for the flour and sugar which we use often, and about 15 minutes clearing the space and washing the discarded items to send them to Goodwill.

It's simple and clean and I reclaimed some valuable counter space. I love it. Now I smile every time I walk through the kitchen.

I've been motivated these last few days by Melissa's posts over at The Inspired Room. Here is the post that begins a little series about organizing a home. In that particular post she writes about assessing (or reassessing) the needs of your space, which is precisely what I did for that little corner of my kitchen.

Paring down our possessions and organizing our home is an ongoing process for our family, a process that little by little leads to a simpler life, fewer distractions, and more time to focus on what is important to us. I think we're making progress even if it's just one kitchen counter - or one linen closet or one end table - at a time. I hope as I share these little projects here to help keep my focus and keep track of my progress I'll inspire someone else, too.