I’m sitting in Evelyn’s room, the neon light from her cloud-ridged bed frame cycling through red, green, blue, and yellow, fading softly into each hue. The double bed’s warm glow was definitely a good purchase for her. Today was a “clean Evelyn’s bedroom” day.
At first, Dave resisted my idea of taking everything that wasn’t large furniture out of the room. I get it—by the ending of doing so, the hallway was so full of clothes, toys, and shoes that it was barely walkable. But still, I have a method. And even though it’s not trademarked yet, it’s foolproof.
The point of removing everything is to get a truly clean space. We swept, mopped, wiped down surfaces, and even cleaned inside drawers. Then I swapped the chest for the loveseat and was quickly met with the challenge of sorting through all the odds and ends kids collect—from McDonald’s trinkets to street fair prizes to random neighbor gifts. I’ll be bold and call most of it junk, but to Evelyn, it’s treasure. If she looks at something long enough, suddenly it’s the perfect gate for her snake.
Speaking of the snake—her new Beanie Baby, “Hissy,” gifted by an older girl at her co-op—he hasn’t left her side. Wrapped around her arm or neck, perched in her palm… he’s everywhere. Recently, he’s been accessorized with one of those tiny cocktail umbrellas, tucked neatly over his head while he coils. When she learned snakes like rocks, she gathered every small stone she could find, plus a mini boulder, and set it by her pillow so Hissy could “sleep comfortably” beside her last night. Her imagination for his personality, needs, and quirks pops out like popcorn from a hot pan.
“I feel stupid,” I told Dave later, after getting updated information from Headway about an insurance issue. Turns out, I had the wrong facts from the start. All the frustration, rigidity, and hours lost to helplessness and borderline panic—sure they were trying to screw me over—was for nothing.
I’d inflated the whole thing until I felt like Spartacus himself, leading a rebellion into Rome for freedom. The nobility, the righteous fury… it was all ego. My ego had shoved too much emotional currency across the table.
Now, I’m inching closer to vacation. The house is already barren of plants because I’ve moved them to the tub, where two inches of water will keep them hydrated while I’m away. Evelyn asked earlier, “Why do you love your plants so much?” I told her about my pre–green thumb years, fifteen years ago, when I lived alone. I still remember the lonely hanging plant in my drafty, leaky laundry room—ten degrees colder than the rest of the house. I remember its brown leaves, my complete lack of knowledge, and wondering if it could even live again. Spoiler, I couldn’t.
I had no idea how to help it then. And because I do today, maybe that’s why I care so obsessively for my plants now.
Well, I think Evelyn’s finally asleep, so I can tiptoe out of here and have adult only time – ice cream, watching tv, a rocking chair moment on the front porch? We shall see where these feet lead me.
Thanks for dropping by! Catch you here tomorrow. Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 