THE FORMAL DINING ROOM..

I always wanted a formal dining room.

Even though we are not formal people. Really. We're not. But I just liked the idea of having a formal dining room. Because it seemed very traditional. And I like things that are traditional.

So we have one now. Only it's not formal either. We don't have a china cabinet or matching sideboard. We don't have silver candlesticks. We don't have a damask table cloth (what IS damask, anyway?)We do have a small little cabinet thingy that we bought on one of anniversaries. It doesn't match our table, but I like it like that.

We rarely eat in the formal dining room. We usually eat at the bar for most meals, and only use the dining room for company and then it's to spread the pizza out or line up the sandwiches.

But I have a formal dining room, and it's the first room you see when you come into the house. I would say the people who built this house must have been on drugs, but that would be us. And except for a couple of days in 1991 and again in 1994, when I was status post c-section, I have never used any mind altering substances. Neither has my husband. Now that we are raising teenagers, though, that may change...

So since the dining room is the first room you come to upon entering our house, it has become the drop off point. I set a little rug in one corner by the door so we can line our shoes up, and then I said "One pair of shoes down here per family member. I. MEAN. IT. I. AM . NOT. KIDDING." Thinking that would curtail the clutter.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

At this very moment, my dining room table is holding a backpack filled with various and sundry school items, a stack of stuff including a binder, an algebra book, and a really cool pencil pouch with groovy polka dots on it; and a canvas tote bag - black with bright pink hearts all over it - a tissue (Good Lord! We're Pigs!) and my center piece - a long narrow wooden tray with three candles in tins lined up on it. Thank goodness the candles are not lit or the house would go up in flames like well...a house afire.

At this very moment, my dining room FLOOR is holding a pair of size 13 Nike hi-tops, a pair of size 13 "stompin' boots," a pair of suede lace up boots with little pom pons on the ends of the strings, a pair of "Tuggs", which are faux Uggs from Target (our name for them, clever aren't we?), a new pair of black and pink softball cleats, a pair of plaid Rocket Dogs tennis shoes, a pair of Lands End boots that zip up the back and really aren't very comfortable but they were on clearance and they are cute, ANOTHER black tote bag with multi colored hearts and a little silver trim on it; a hooded sweatshirt, and a volleyball bag, completely full and ready for a game. Oh, and one 9-year-old yellow lab. The only things missing are the wrsestling bag and the other back pack, but I am NOT asking any questions.

Why am I letting you know all of this? Well it's not for posterity, I tell you that.

It's so when those of you who know me see me next, you'll understand why my forehead is black and blue.

That's from banging my head repeatedly against the wall while repeating to myself "This is the phase of life I'm in. This is the phase of life I'm in. This is the phase...."

That would be the kitchen wall, because it's too crowded in the dining room.