January 25, 2016

Of Flannel Sheets

We had nary a drop of snow this weekend. Sunshine all the way through. Which makes it all the more disgraceful that we didn't get outside and do something in all this winter sunshine. But Justin stayed in Syracuse for the weekend because he had to work Saturday, so I was being my typical overwhelmed self. Plus I stayed up a teensy bit too late Friday night reading a book. Tori made pancakes for breakfast on Saturday, so we weren't total hermits. Pancakes can lure us pretty easily into the cold. And we went to Owen and Ashley's for supper. Two outings in one day. Which is respectable. But the reality is that I did less than anything all day Saturday. 

It was cold too. Below zero in the morning on Sunday.  

We have a mirror with a beveled edge in the living room, which cast little rainbows across the room when the sun hits it in the morning. Elsie and Gilbert love the little rainbows. Elsie likes to poke it and block it and watch it. 

Icicles and cowboy hats

There is a lot of sparkle to our snow. Not that you can see it in the picture, but it is there.

Morning light

Now, the flannel sheets. (I love flannel sheets.) 

For some reason, in the fall of 2007, right after we moved back to New York from Alaska, I really wanted plaid flannel sheets. But the cost of moving meant we had better things to spend our money on than an extra pair of sheets for our bed. Actually, it wasn't even our bed. We had to leave our king mattress in Alaska because it wouldn't fit in the suburban or the two horse trailer the suburban pulled to New York. We brought the two twin beds from our guest room instead. In our apartment in Syracuse, we pushed the two beds together on the floor so we could use our king size sheets and blankets. 

I had Lily at 1 in the morning at the end of September that year. A few hours after birth, I got up, showered, dressed, and did my hair before the doctor came in, so I could more effectively convince him to let me go home that day. Even though I had lovely company in the form of the workers and Dad and Tori and Livie who skipped school to see their new niece, I didn't want to be at the hospital. Orianna had been born in a midwifery, where we were home within 3 and a half hours of giving birth. The idea of hanging out in a hospital all day where they hollered at you (or at least spoke sternly to you) if you nursed your baby to sleep and let it lay beside you on the bed was appalling. I wanted to go home. The doctor pooh poohed that idea and told me I had to stay at least 24 hours. And since 1 AM was not the time to leave the hospital, I couldn't leave until around 10 the next morning.  

By the time we were checked out, I was bone weary from my first ever night (and a half) at the hospital and being woken up every hour for vitals. I was desperate for my own bed. After cousins admired Lily and we picked up Orianna from Clover's, I took my new baby and went into our room to nurse her and let her sleep with me. Just to show those nurses. 

And there were these sheets. 

Because he knew how much I wanted them, Justin had gone to Wal-mart and bought me plaid flannel sheets. They weren't exactly the colors I would have chosen and it was a warm Indian Summer sort of day, but I have never seen better looking sheets. They were the coziest thing to bring our wee baby home to, all snuggled up together in Justin's love and flannel sheets. 

Since Justin was busy running to the hospital and working, Clover, who was a few months pregnant and still battling morning sickness, washed the sheets up and made the bed. A few hours later, after a good nap, Mom knocked on my door and behind her walked Lindsey, who had flown all the way from Alaska to see her new baby niece and Alaska-homesick sister for the weekend.  

There was a lot of family and sisterly love snuggled up in those sheets as well. 

And now, eight cold winters later, these flannel sheets finally gave up the ghost. They had been wearing threadbare in spots and finally, after this last round through the laundry, there was a little tear in the middle. Since they were too threadbare to mend, I put them on the bed for one last time. The little tear had grown into a larger tear and miraculously multiplied into several tears. And now, it is time to throw them out. They are just sheets. And we can now afford to go buy another couple sets of sheets if I want, but... they still mean a lot to me. 

Enough to make me cry as I contemplate throwing them away. 

(Maybe I will just throw the bottom sheet out...) 

1 comment:

Maureen Aliprandi said...

Hi Bethany! I love your blog! And your little family! I've nominated you for a Liebster Award (basically a networking tool for bloggers) and the details are in my most recent blog post (https://wordpress.com/post/impossiblejourneyblog.wordpress.com/1062). Follow the link if you're interested in knowing more. Do NOT feel obligated to keep this going. It's like a chain letter thing that most of the time I couldn't and wouldn't be bothered with. That being said, if you want to have fun with it, go ahead and accept it! Best wishes to you! Love, Maureen