Every couple of months or so Sam and I engage in what we’ve come to refer to as House Tetris. We begin by sorting through Ruby’s clothes and setting all high-water pants and onsies with plunging necklines aside in a storage bin. Simple enough project. But the said storage bin needs to fit into a closet and said closet is unfortunately jammed with every baby accoutrement “they” say you must have to survive parenthood but which you really don’t need at all. To make room for the bin, then, said baby junk must find a new home in the garage until it can all be unloaded on some other new parent (aka sucker) with a really-you-can-have-it-and-you-don’t-have-to-pay-us grin. Alas, the garage is where my wrapping paper, ribbon, cards, gift bags, et.al. live in a precariously disorganized pile. And it is in this domino manner that a simple 30 minute project evolves into a complete home renovation.

This was an especially vigorous Über Super Mega Round that saw two trips to The Container Store and one extremely organized gift-wrap station. Being fierce competitors we didn’t stop there. We plowed forward in obsession and organized our utensil drawer, my make-up drawer, our office files AND our front hall coat closet. In addition—and because we’re dedicated multitaskers not known to shirk responsibility—we were simultaneously deflecting the efforts of the two-legged, two-armed, miniature wrecking ball who was unfiling every single piece of paper in our neatly filed office. Let it never be said that we don’t take our House Tetris very, very seriously.

The coat closet was the last venue of this particular HT session and buried behind my dusty yoga mat, a Pack ‘n Play bag with accessories, a Snap ‘n Go stroller frame, a vintage suitcase, a box with winter gloves and hats, numerous coats and jackets (mostly mine), a tent, 4 umbrellas and 13 bamboo rods that Sam still won’t let me throw away—behind all the shit we’ve managed to accumulate in almost 5 years of what was once a minimalist marriage—I found my rollerskates. Sam gave me those skates, skates that I had begggggggged f0r, just before our first anniversary. Like an excited child at Christmas, I ripped open the box, put them on my feet and skated down the street to the dog park. I nearly died on the way. Well, that’s a bit dramatic. I nearly broke my tailbone though. And both elbows. I used the skates just that once, took them off, set them in the closet and like that same child at Christmas, forgot all about them. Until Sunday.

Once again I put those skates on my feet, rolled to the iPod (expertly if not cautiously crossing my right foot over the left for better cornering) and scanned through to the lurking Ambrosia singles, waiting demurely for their turn in the spotlight. And what occasion could possibly be more appropriate for Ambrosia?

With “Biggest Part Of Me” blasting from our overcompensatingly large and blown out relic Bose speakers, the mirrored disco ball in my soul began to spin ever so slowly and while our baby slept, I transformed our dining room into The Darling Skate Palace. Around and around our table I rolled, undeterred by Sam’s attempts to squelch my new fling with mutterings of “Oh my GHAWd…” and “you’re so TALL in those things.” I wasn’t about to be intimidated into stopping only to resume my half of the organizing duties flat footed. I was having fun! Plus, I was actually pretty good aside from a few wobbles. Much better for sure than my first attempt out in the elements and it made perfect sense to me that skate halls are made of hardwood flooring rather than pavement and gravel.

I think I’m onto something with my skates and forsee a night at the roller rink in my future. At the very least I have proudly taken our home improvemevent efforts to a whole new level: look out for the Extreme House Tetris Edition.