A Reflection on the Preschooler's Cheeks

My son has the cutest cheeks ever. I realized this as we were getting out of the car to check the mail today. The sweetest curve, the smoothest skin, the nibbliest texture. No day is so bad that it can't be fixed by watching those cheeks bunch up into a great big smile. Even if his cheeks are damp and sweaty for a hard day of playing, or even a bit gritty and dirty from said day, they are still kissable and soothing. Even when he pulls that perfect roundness flat with an I-Don't-Want-To frown, they are perfect and sweet (although slightly less endearing). <3

Getting Organized ... the Saga

Have you ever had that conversation about the ways you don't want to die? You know, after watching something like Titanic. Drowning? Not so much. Freezing to death? Might be better than drowning, but still, I'll pass. Pretty much anything short of passing peacefully in my sleep is not high on my list.

Death by paperwork is, again, pretty far down on the list of ways I'd like to die. So that's one of the many reasons why I'm trying to reign in my home's paper tide before it becomes a tsunami. The boy probably wouldn't mind so much: while his current obsession is cars, before cars, it was paper. Anything made out of paper. And he's convinced that yours truly can make anything out of paper. He seriously tested my origami abilities. I'm enjoying this cars respite, but I know paper is in our future. He's dependable, my boy.

So building my life raft (not out of paper!) is my first goal for the new year. I've moved an old microwave cart into my foyer to help corral all the paper as it comes in. And while I fully intend to deal with the paper as soon as it crosses my threshold, I'm also designating Monday and Thursday evenings as Paperwork Party (ie, shred, toss and file nights). I live a wild life, let me tell you. Meh, it's better than drowning! My last step is making a convenient, easily accessible home for those pieces I need to keep. Any suggestions?