If you are not a Star Wars fanatic you don't already know that I am watching Episode V right now.
I am watching Star Wars Episode V right now.
My brain is completely fried and just to make sure everyone here knew that, earlier, I left the toaster oven on, left the stove on with zucchini in a pan and then walked in circles from the kitchen to the playroom trying to figure out what I was doing.
This day was super smooth running until Mom E showed up and WOULD NOT LEAVE for two hours this afternoon.
But that's not why I am so tired.
No, I am tired because last night was never-ending and then I didn't sleep well.
I am so, so tired.
I did every chore I could think of this morning so that I could crap out this afternoon and for all of tomorrow.
E had big plans to garden this morning but it was thirty degrees and raining so he crapped out earlier than all of us. T worked from home this morning and then when it was time to take the kids to see a movie they had promised them, she had a hard time getting E off the couch to go along.
They finally went and I fed the baby and then sat down.
In order to not fall asleep I had to get back up again and we had a dance party and I taught him some moves.
He's awful.
Mom E showed up and ruined everything so I left him to play with her and went to do something else. I ended up texting in the kitchen for an hour.
Han Solo is SO cool. I love him.
Anyway, today was a nothing-much kind of day but it was sprinkled with fun little moments like when E discovered I ate the rest of his bruschetta and threatened to take it out of my pay.
And when I dropped a bottle of spaghetti sauce on the tile floor and it shattered and sprayed glass and sauce EVERYWHERE and E threatened to take it out of my pay.
And when I was helping T pack up some things to be returned to Bed, Bath & Beyond and she was so glad I had saved all the boxes to these things and I told her I am just as fond of their return policy (ANYTHING GOES) as she is and that I totally get her. She laughed and said, "You do. You do get me. No one gets me." And E mocked us for being compatible in such a sneaky, cheap way. But isn't that how all women bond?
When they got home this evening the kids were crying about everything so we stuffed them full of chicken and fish and sent them to bed.
T came to me after they were gone to talk about a subject I have been dreading.
Passover.
Nanny K has been telling me about how she has to clean every square inch of their home for this holiday. Mom E keeps hinting that I should start cleaning for it.
I don't clean every square inch of the house now, so I had no intention of doing it for that, but to be honest, I didn't want to do anything extra at all for it. We have a baby on the way and that is what our energy goes into preparing for.
Amazingly, T is on the same page.
She said to just do what I normally do and we will get a maid to come in this week to give the appearance that we are ready for Passover. We will hide away all the food that is not Kosher for that week and that way Mom E won't have a stroke.
Perfect.
She grumbled something about not being free in her own home and I couldn't help but to chuckle.
Traditions in any family are hard to keep up with. Disappointing our elders is something we all have to come to terms with in our own way. I can't even imagine being in T's shoes. But I think she tolerates a lot and she handles it well.
And I am so glad no one is coming in to turn this house upside down in search of stray food crumbs.
We don't have time for that.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
Yup. It's allergies.
Thursday morning I felt right as rain.
I got so much done I don't even know what it all was.
Around noon some landscapers showed up and reminded me how spoiled people in this town are. Especially when they dug out a tree whose placement has irked E for a long time and relocated it.
Who even thinks of stuff like that?
Where I'm from if you don't like a tree and it's alive you deal with it. And if it's dead you send your sons out there with saws and rope and hope for the best. And where I'm from I've never heard anyone say they don't like the location of a TREE.
Whatever. Not my call.
Anyway, the landscapers spent over an hour fixing up our yard, which has been a total wreck since our last landscaper disappeared last year. His wife showed up once, did an awful job and was not asked back. We still don't know what happened there.
Mystery...
We've let the dog pretty much pooh wherever he wants to and with no one caring for the lawn it has become a field of land mines. I've also been letting the kids pick dandelions and so we have more weeds than grass at this point.
Which is why the gardener doused our entire lawn in weed killer. Strong weed killer.
When it was time to get R from the bus they were still blowing dirt and things around with big, loud machines that I was praying wouldn't wake up the Monster.
I took some dirt or sand or a boulder in the eyeball, retrieved the girl child and advised her to keep her eyes closed on the way back inside.
Shortly after she got home, the GE man showed up to fix our brand new, broken fridge. This one was immensely hotter than the guy who came last week and smelled infinitely better too.
I smoothed my hair and batted my eyes as I showed him to the kitchen.
He also knew much more about what the heck had happened to our appliance and when he started talking shop I actually forgot to hit on him.
Stupid digital age is ruining my life.
Because the main control board is a tiny computer, it is highly sensitive to fluctuations in electrical currents. So all you homeowners are now paying scores more for appliances that need to be pampered.
Interestingly enough, the fridge we had just thrown out was a late 60s model that worked flawlessly right up until we killed it, recently. It took fifty years to injure that baby, but the precious little digital models can't handle being plugged in for too long.
Whatever modern technology.
While he worked, I got some work done and noticed that it was warm enough in the house to open the windows.
I paid dearly for that move for the rest of the day.
My nose stuffed up immediately even as I was still enjoying the fresh cut grass smell.
My future boyfriend, Kevin from GE, said he loved that smell too. He also has allergies.
I am still new to allergies and I don't really know how they work, so we chatted for a bit and then he finished his work and walked out the door with his tools and a little piece of my heart.
I closed all the windows again but the damage was done, so while the kids ate dinner I drank six cups of tea and ate ginger candy like it was going out of style, which I guess it already has because they are T's and they are hard to find and she keeps begging everyone else to stop eating them but I can't, I just can't, I NEED TO BREATHE.
After dinner, while I was cleaning up, I called to R to let the dog out, which she does pretty regularly. She also feeds and waters him and then lets him back in.
When he came bounding into the playroom I nearly died from the stench that came with him.
He smelled of straight up pooh.
But I didn't know it was him.
First, I checked the baby's diaper and then I sniffed everywhere but the dog, confused as to how the smell had gotten into the room.
I took the baby for a change anyway and washed him all up. The other two came upstairs and everyone washed up and changed and I didn't smell anything anymore but then Willie came halfway up the stairs and it was like Superman in a room full of Kryptonite.
I gagged and dropped whatever I was doing and would have crumpled to the floor if not for the epiphany that kept me afloat.
I had let the dog out. In the freshly fertilized yard. Full of poisonous chemicals and yellow flags that say not to let pets or children play in or near it.
Whoops.
E got home right at that moment and I was done with the kids anyway, so I asked him where Willie's shampoo was and herded little Willie off to the shower.
I have never washed a dog before.
I am not a dog person.
But it was my fault he stank and for all I knew he was also dying from the chemicals so I decided to man up and wash the stinking dog. Literally to all of that.
He seemed excited. In his tiny, faulty dog brain he thought we were finally crossing the last milestone into friendship. He pranced around the bathroom like an idiot until I ushered him into the shower and turned it on.
Then he just stood there looking wet and nasty while I soaped him up.
I had to use three towels to dry him, and he's a small dog and all I could think about was how I hate dogs, wet dog smell and wet bathrooms. The third time he shook his fur out I covered him from head to tail with a towel and pinned him to the floor.
He thought I was playing so he started to bark and wiggle and burrow against my leg.
Ugh.
You dog people must think this is funny.
I had cats. Cats are easy. They are small and they hate the bath so it's an in and out affair with little fur shaking.
My poor little Dean Bean, may he rest in peace because he is dead, would just sit in the sink and I could wash and rinse and brush and dry him in no time at all. And then he smelled like flowers and soap and sunshine.
Not wet dog.
I got the beast dry and brushed and gave him two carrots for being good and also to get him to stop barking in joy.
Today was pretty slow. I cleaned the garage in a burst of spring cleaning motivation and got a splinter of something stuck in my finger. The garage looked amazing though and as I finished the Monkey woke up from his nap so I went in with R trailing behind me and we unloaded all T's stashes of baby bottles and I washed all the blankets that hadn't yet been prepped for the baby.
I sent T off to work this afternoon with best wishes from R's bus driver and my blessings should she go into labor this afternoon and ruin our plans to have dinner at E's sister's house.
I like E's sister ok in theory, but I have heard horror stories about her house.
Tonight I witnessed it all for myself.
It's huge, disgustingly so. It's full of stairs and marble and museum-like displays. There is an elevator.
I spent the whole night chasing Monkey away from stairs and things he could break and praying for the presence of mind to not curse anyone out for living like that.
I just couldn't deal.
In fact, the only thing that saved me from shooting glares at these people was when E's niece, one that I really can't stand, sat on a couch in the basement den, and it broke. The arm fell off and she landed with an exposed screw up her bum.
Her brother, hot Dr. M, laughed a little but then did his brotherly duties and told her to have Mom look at it. Their younger brother pointed out that the couch was broken and she shouldn't sit on that end.
She disappeared for a while.
I calmed myself down and played with my kids until it was time to go.
Here at home, inside an only slightly larger than normal house with our comfortable rooms that don't echo, we all sent T to bed with permission to go into labor tonight. She has decided to hold off until Monday so we can take maternity photos this weekend and because she was a showing on Sunday.
They have asked me to stick around yet another Sunday, but I laid the guilt trip well, and things will change a bit after the baby comes. In the mean time, they need to sell the house in the city that she is working so hard to show on Sunday afternoons.
Here's hoping!
I got so much done I don't even know what it all was.
Around noon some landscapers showed up and reminded me how spoiled people in this town are. Especially when they dug out a tree whose placement has irked E for a long time and relocated it.
Who even thinks of stuff like that?
Where I'm from if you don't like a tree and it's alive you deal with it. And if it's dead you send your sons out there with saws and rope and hope for the best. And where I'm from I've never heard anyone say they don't like the location of a TREE.
Whatever. Not my call.
Anyway, the landscapers spent over an hour fixing up our yard, which has been a total wreck since our last landscaper disappeared last year. His wife showed up once, did an awful job and was not asked back. We still don't know what happened there.
Mystery...
We've let the dog pretty much pooh wherever he wants to and with no one caring for the lawn it has become a field of land mines. I've also been letting the kids pick dandelions and so we have more weeds than grass at this point.
Which is why the gardener doused our entire lawn in weed killer. Strong weed killer.
When it was time to get R from the bus they were still blowing dirt and things around with big, loud machines that I was praying wouldn't wake up the Monster.
I took some dirt or sand or a boulder in the eyeball, retrieved the girl child and advised her to keep her eyes closed on the way back inside.
Shortly after she got home, the GE man showed up to fix our brand new, broken fridge. This one was immensely hotter than the guy who came last week and smelled infinitely better too.
I smoothed my hair and batted my eyes as I showed him to the kitchen.
He also knew much more about what the heck had happened to our appliance and when he started talking shop I actually forgot to hit on him.
Stupid digital age is ruining my life.
Because the main control board is a tiny computer, it is highly sensitive to fluctuations in electrical currents. So all you homeowners are now paying scores more for appliances that need to be pampered.
Interestingly enough, the fridge we had just thrown out was a late 60s model that worked flawlessly right up until we killed it, recently. It took fifty years to injure that baby, but the precious little digital models can't handle being plugged in for too long.
Whatever modern technology.
While he worked, I got some work done and noticed that it was warm enough in the house to open the windows.
I paid dearly for that move for the rest of the day.
My nose stuffed up immediately even as I was still enjoying the fresh cut grass smell.
My future boyfriend, Kevin from GE, said he loved that smell too. He also has allergies.
I am still new to allergies and I don't really know how they work, so we chatted for a bit and then he finished his work and walked out the door with his tools and a little piece of my heart.
I closed all the windows again but the damage was done, so while the kids ate dinner I drank six cups of tea and ate ginger candy like it was going out of style, which I guess it already has because they are T's and they are hard to find and she keeps begging everyone else to stop eating them but I can't, I just can't, I NEED TO BREATHE.
After dinner, while I was cleaning up, I called to R to let the dog out, which she does pretty regularly. She also feeds and waters him and then lets him back in.
When he came bounding into the playroom I nearly died from the stench that came with him.
He smelled of straight up pooh.
But I didn't know it was him.
First, I checked the baby's diaper and then I sniffed everywhere but the dog, confused as to how the smell had gotten into the room.
I took the baby for a change anyway and washed him all up. The other two came upstairs and everyone washed up and changed and I didn't smell anything anymore but then Willie came halfway up the stairs and it was like Superman in a room full of Kryptonite.
I gagged and dropped whatever I was doing and would have crumpled to the floor if not for the epiphany that kept me afloat.
I had let the dog out. In the freshly fertilized yard. Full of poisonous chemicals and yellow flags that say not to let pets or children play in or near it.
Whoops.
E got home right at that moment and I was done with the kids anyway, so I asked him where Willie's shampoo was and herded little Willie off to the shower.
I have never washed a dog before.
I am not a dog person.
But it was my fault he stank and for all I knew he was also dying from the chemicals so I decided to man up and wash the stinking dog. Literally to all of that.
He seemed excited. In his tiny, faulty dog brain he thought we were finally crossing the last milestone into friendship. He pranced around the bathroom like an idiot until I ushered him into the shower and turned it on.
Then he just stood there looking wet and nasty while I soaped him up.
I had to use three towels to dry him, and he's a small dog and all I could think about was how I hate dogs, wet dog smell and wet bathrooms. The third time he shook his fur out I covered him from head to tail with a towel and pinned him to the floor.
He thought I was playing so he started to bark and wiggle and burrow against my leg.
Ugh.
You dog people must think this is funny.
I had cats. Cats are easy. They are small and they hate the bath so it's an in and out affair with little fur shaking.
My poor little Dean Bean, may he rest in peace because he is dead, would just sit in the sink and I could wash and rinse and brush and dry him in no time at all. And then he smelled like flowers and soap and sunshine.
Not wet dog.
I got the beast dry and brushed and gave him two carrots for being good and also to get him to stop barking in joy.
Today was pretty slow. I cleaned the garage in a burst of spring cleaning motivation and got a splinter of something stuck in my finger. The garage looked amazing though and as I finished the Monkey woke up from his nap so I went in with R trailing behind me and we unloaded all T's stashes of baby bottles and I washed all the blankets that hadn't yet been prepped for the baby.
I sent T off to work this afternoon with best wishes from R's bus driver and my blessings should she go into labor this afternoon and ruin our plans to have dinner at E's sister's house.
I like E's sister ok in theory, but I have heard horror stories about her house.
Tonight I witnessed it all for myself.
It's huge, disgustingly so. It's full of stairs and marble and museum-like displays. There is an elevator.
I spent the whole night chasing Monkey away from stairs and things he could break and praying for the presence of mind to not curse anyone out for living like that.
I just couldn't deal.
In fact, the only thing that saved me from shooting glares at these people was when E's niece, one that I really can't stand, sat on a couch in the basement den, and it broke. The arm fell off and she landed with an exposed screw up her bum.
Her brother, hot Dr. M, laughed a little but then did his brotherly duties and told her to have Mom look at it. Their younger brother pointed out that the couch was broken and she shouldn't sit on that end.
She disappeared for a while.
I calmed myself down and played with my kids until it was time to go.
Here at home, inside an only slightly larger than normal house with our comfortable rooms that don't echo, we all sent T to bed with permission to go into labor tonight. She has decided to hold off until Monday so we can take maternity photos this weekend and because she was a showing on Sunday.
They have asked me to stick around yet another Sunday, but I laid the guilt trip well, and things will change a bit after the baby comes. In the mean time, they need to sell the house in the city that she is working so hard to show on Sunday afternoons.
Here's hoping!
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Freaking out.
Yesterday, I slept in.
I was off for reasons I will get into later, but the most wonderful thing was sleeping in. I slept and slept and slept until after ten, which is still pretty early for me, but I knew that if I didn't get up and run some errands, they would never get done.
It turns out half of them didn't anyway.
It was after 11 when I was finally ready to go out. I ran into T upstairs, who was just getting off the phone with the Great Neck Police Department. Intrigued, I went from not-rushed to just plain slow and got comfortable to have a listen.
Someone had just rung the bell, a man with not visible vehicle and no uniform. We weren't expecting anyone. She didn't open the door, but called to him from the dining room window, which isn't exactly right next to the door and probably weirded him out a little. It was a stroke of genius on her part.
He said he was a realtor and had some questions.
The fool. She is a realtor and would recognize legitimate questions.
He started asking her personal questions, about herself and not the house at all, and so she "passed" on the first two and then on the third told him she was uncomfortable with his survey and he turned tail and fled.
So she called the cops.
She asked me if I would have and I responded by showing her how many local police department phone numbers are stored in my phone. All of them, from every town I have lived in since middle school.
I've called the cops on suspicious people, annoying people, loud people, mean people, a few animals and once when I needed a ride home from work and they said no.
"Yes," I told her, "That is very suspicious and I would have done the same thing. I might have even done it while he was still asking me questions."
I was planning to walk to town because it was so nice out and T was still nervous so I filled her in on my awesome self-defense skilz and headed out.
I wasn't mugged or questioned or anything, and I hit the stores without ever once looking at my list. The most important thing on it was ***NOT SHOES*** which I stuck to, but I also forgot to get two-thirds of the stuff actually on it.
At some point I accidentally boarded a train to the city and accidentally spent two hours there accidentally buying three dollar tank tops at the greatest outlet in the universe.
By the time I got back to Great Neck, I was an hour behind my planned schedule.
I had taken Tuesday off for the one-night only live airing of the Kirk Cameron movie, Monumental. A group from church was going and I had texted Taryn to put together a plan to meet up with her.
I had no idea what the name of the theater was and I have been ever so slow about getting the numbers of well, anyone but Taryn, and so when she didn't answer it dawned on me that I might not be going after all.
Knowing my dear Taryn, my first guess was that she had lost her phone (<3) which turned out to be accurate. But without having that actually confirmed it left me with a lot of room to wonder about other, non-realistic scenarios.
For two hours I text-whined about it and then I vowed to get the numbers of someone else from church and to find out where functions were being held from then on, and then I went across the street from the coffee shop to the bar.
My folly was going to require a stronger band aid than the coffee shop could offer.
No one was at the bar yet, being that it was 7 on a Tuesday, so I took a seat in front of Jeopardy and the awesome bartender, the awesome hostess and I bonded over three rounds of impossible questions. I think I got two or three right and so did the bartender.
We were all awesome for Wheel of Fortune and another lady a few years older than me joined us in time for the bonus round.
Two martinis in someone came up behind me and spoke to me and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Turns out it was a comedian, asking me if I was going to the comedy show. I was now, so I ordered another drink and headed off to a free show. My friend from the bar came too and we sat together in the back row of two rows.
That's right, two. There were two rows and behind that two tables. That's it. I don't even know why they had a mic hooked up because we were sitting less than three feet from the performers, but they did.
The first two comedians kept checking their phones and dropping f bombs, so I zoned out a little bit, but then the last few were hilarious. Before the show I entered a raffle and after the show, I won so YAY.
I headed home much earlier than I thought and so today I wasn't overly tired but my throat is getting sore again.
I spent the day drinking tea and honey and lemon and ginger and opening the cabinet to eye the DayQuil. I didn't take any, but I realize I have a problem.
In between my self-diagnosis I built a dresser.
BUILT A DRESSER.
I am so awesome.
I love when I build stuff with no help at all and the only thing better than completing my project was comparing it to the one E built last month and mine is better. His drawers stick and mine are peeerrrrrfect.
I worked on it this morning before I put Monkey down and he ran around me while I worked chanting, "Baby! Baby! Baby!"
I finished it up this afternoon while he slept and R was home. We also made candy and picked J up from a birthday party. I am like superwoman. Only better.
I crashed around dinner time.
The kids all ate super well and then had dessert while I cleaned up. I bathed them and then I just dropped. That was it for me. T's mom stopped by and entertained them for a bit and then I mentally checked out and threw myself 100% into Angry Birds.
E and T got back from the city in time to take over bed time.
T is dilating and the baby has dropped and assumed the position, but that is all the progress so far. We could potentially have two more weeks ahead of us but her contractions are leading everyone to think otherwise.
For my part, I really, really, really hope she has this baby right after my driver's test but before Easter, so that I can go away for Easter weekend without wondering if she went into labor without me there.
The only problem with my plan for her, is that my driver's test isn't scheduled and I am waiting for residential paperwork from the post office and I don't know if it's ever coming and I am starting to worry that this isn't all going to fall into place as perfectly as I had thought.
Color me anxious.
I was off for reasons I will get into later, but the most wonderful thing was sleeping in. I slept and slept and slept until after ten, which is still pretty early for me, but I knew that if I didn't get up and run some errands, they would never get done.
It turns out half of them didn't anyway.
It was after 11 when I was finally ready to go out. I ran into T upstairs, who was just getting off the phone with the Great Neck Police Department. Intrigued, I went from not-rushed to just plain slow and got comfortable to have a listen.
Someone had just rung the bell, a man with not visible vehicle and no uniform. We weren't expecting anyone. She didn't open the door, but called to him from the dining room window, which isn't exactly right next to the door and probably weirded him out a little. It was a stroke of genius on her part.
He said he was a realtor and had some questions.
The fool. She is a realtor and would recognize legitimate questions.
He started asking her personal questions, about herself and not the house at all, and so she "passed" on the first two and then on the third told him she was uncomfortable with his survey and he turned tail and fled.
So she called the cops.
She asked me if I would have and I responded by showing her how many local police department phone numbers are stored in my phone. All of them, from every town I have lived in since middle school.
I've called the cops on suspicious people, annoying people, loud people, mean people, a few animals and once when I needed a ride home from work and they said no.
"Yes," I told her, "That is very suspicious and I would have done the same thing. I might have even done it while he was still asking me questions."
I was planning to walk to town because it was so nice out and T was still nervous so I filled her in on my awesome self-defense skilz and headed out.
I wasn't mugged or questioned or anything, and I hit the stores without ever once looking at my list. The most important thing on it was ***NOT SHOES*** which I stuck to, but I also forgot to get two-thirds of the stuff actually on it.
At some point I accidentally boarded a train to the city and accidentally spent two hours there accidentally buying three dollar tank tops at the greatest outlet in the universe.
By the time I got back to Great Neck, I was an hour behind my planned schedule.
I had taken Tuesday off for the one-night only live airing of the Kirk Cameron movie, Monumental. A group from church was going and I had texted Taryn to put together a plan to meet up with her.
I had no idea what the name of the theater was and I have been ever so slow about getting the numbers of well, anyone but Taryn, and so when she didn't answer it dawned on me that I might not be going after all.
Knowing my dear Taryn, my first guess was that she had lost her phone (<3) which turned out to be accurate. But without having that actually confirmed it left me with a lot of room to wonder about other, non-realistic scenarios.
For two hours I text-whined about it and then I vowed to get the numbers of someone else from church and to find out where functions were being held from then on, and then I went across the street from the coffee shop to the bar.
My folly was going to require a stronger band aid than the coffee shop could offer.
No one was at the bar yet, being that it was 7 on a Tuesday, so I took a seat in front of Jeopardy and the awesome bartender, the awesome hostess and I bonded over three rounds of impossible questions. I think I got two or three right and so did the bartender.
We were all awesome for Wheel of Fortune and another lady a few years older than me joined us in time for the bonus round.
Two martinis in someone came up behind me and spoke to me and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Turns out it was a comedian, asking me if I was going to the comedy show. I was now, so I ordered another drink and headed off to a free show. My friend from the bar came too and we sat together in the back row of two rows.
That's right, two. There were two rows and behind that two tables. That's it. I don't even know why they had a mic hooked up because we were sitting less than three feet from the performers, but they did.
The first two comedians kept checking their phones and dropping f bombs, so I zoned out a little bit, but then the last few were hilarious. Before the show I entered a raffle and after the show, I won so YAY.
I headed home much earlier than I thought and so today I wasn't overly tired but my throat is getting sore again.
I spent the day drinking tea and honey and lemon and ginger and opening the cabinet to eye the DayQuil. I didn't take any, but I realize I have a problem.
In between my self-diagnosis I built a dresser.
BUILT A DRESSER.
I am so awesome.
I love when I build stuff with no help at all and the only thing better than completing my project was comparing it to the one E built last month and mine is better. His drawers stick and mine are peeerrrrrfect.
I worked on it this morning before I put Monkey down and he ran around me while I worked chanting, "Baby! Baby! Baby!"
I finished it up this afternoon while he slept and R was home. We also made candy and picked J up from a birthday party. I am like superwoman. Only better.
I crashed around dinner time.
The kids all ate super well and then had dessert while I cleaned up. I bathed them and then I just dropped. That was it for me. T's mom stopped by and entertained them for a bit and then I mentally checked out and threw myself 100% into Angry Birds.
E and T got back from the city in time to take over bed time.
T is dilating and the baby has dropped and assumed the position, but that is all the progress so far. We could potentially have two more weeks ahead of us but her contractions are leading everyone to think otherwise.
For my part, I really, really, really hope she has this baby right after my driver's test but before Easter, so that I can go away for Easter weekend without wondering if she went into labor without me there.
The only problem with my plan for her, is that my driver's test isn't scheduled and I am waiting for residential paperwork from the post office and I don't know if it's ever coming and I am starting to worry that this isn't all going to fall into place as perfectly as I had thought.
Color me anxious.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
I would like to register a complaint.
Whoa mama.
Where the heck did today come from?
I tried to weasel out of it but E and T had to go into the city at noon and there was just no way I could get back from church in time to fulfill my obligations so I just had to suck it up and do what I had already agreed to.
J hasn't had a real meal in 48 hours now.
R arrived in the kitchen first this morning, where I was already having tea. I had a pretty similar night to the one before but still, I am feeling improvement from day to day. We made pancakes again and when J joined us I didn't even offer him any.
He ate a tiny bowl of Cheerios and then I cut him off and chased him out of the kitchen.
E and T headed out promptly at 12:20 and there I was. Alone with my munchkins.
It would have, could have been a fine day.
But for some odd reason, E and T thought it best to call everyone they are related to and let them know the kids were home today and that they were welcome to come over and visit.
On the way out the door E chuckled, "My mom is going to come over and talk to you about playing bridge. And T's mom will be here right after that to talk to you about boys. What are you wearing? You look like Madonna in the 80s. Have fun!"
T groaned she was sorry and they were gone.
Are they trying to torture me? Is this torture?!
I put Monkey to bed, fed R lunch, attempted to feed J something, made him cry instead and put him on the living room couch for a nap. He was asleep instantly.
Mom E showed up while the kids were asleep and I gloated inside. She said hi to R and headed out again.
T's mom called to say she would come late in the day, which was fine. I love her visits and she can entertain all three kids while I make dinner so I was looking forward to that.
Then all of a sudden all three kids were awake and E's sister was calling to come collect R for an ice cream date and T's mom showed up and then E's mom showed up and dinner was cooking but no one would leave me alone and the questions, they just kept asking questions.
At some point someone fed Monkey and I got J to eat some chicken and rice and crackers.
Mom E spent the entire evening telling me to never give him juice again and to tell T to stop buying it, so I, aggravated and overwhelmed, spent the entire evening telling her T doesn't buy it or like when the kids have it and that maybe she should tell her son, who drinks it every morning, to stop bringing it into the house.
And then after I got that out there I had to also explain that as pointless and stupid as juice is, it doesn't actually cause stomach flus.
Monkey seems to have picked up a touch of it but I swear that kid doesn't puke unless it benefits him so it's all coming out his other end in potent form.
E's sister got home with R and thankfully, was present when the two mothers started crowing about the rice not being done enough. She tasted it and told them it was fine and to pipe down and somehow I made it through the next hour without offending anybody.
FINALLY, they started to head out and as they did I got the kiddies ready for bed, gave R her dinner-after-dessert and herded them all upstairs.
Bed time ran smoothly, with me rushing everybody around all at the same time because I really had to pee.
At long last, I was free of them all. All the in-laws and extended family, all the kids and their noise and sickness and snot and crying and chaos.
I couldn't remember a time I had been that relieved to have the day be over. I don't think I ever have. I had a stare down with the dirty dishes and they won so I had to wash them.
I ate my dinner as I cleaned up because there hadn't been a moment to sit down earlier. These women who came to help me through the day made my day a million times harder. It was like having six kids and the oldest three were the worst behaved.
At three points I nearly tore out my hair but then I remembered how pretty it is and that none of this was its fault.
When the rice incident occurred it took me a moment to realize my cooking was under attack and as I stood there at the stove while the bitties tasted it and E's sister quipped half in Farsi and half in English that it was done I finally figured out how my giant ego serves me in daily life.
I think it's the only reason I survived today.
Now I am stalling upstairs in order to be present when E and T get home so I can tell them I never, ever, under any circumstances, EVER want to take on three Persian women at the same time, without backup, again. Ever. EVER.
EEEVVVVVVEEEEEERRRRRRRR.
Ok. I feel better now. Let's just write that clause into my contract and...
I am recovered.
Where the heck did today come from?
I tried to weasel out of it but E and T had to go into the city at noon and there was just no way I could get back from church in time to fulfill my obligations so I just had to suck it up and do what I had already agreed to.
J hasn't had a real meal in 48 hours now.
R arrived in the kitchen first this morning, where I was already having tea. I had a pretty similar night to the one before but still, I am feeling improvement from day to day. We made pancakes again and when J joined us I didn't even offer him any.
He ate a tiny bowl of Cheerios and then I cut him off and chased him out of the kitchen.
E and T headed out promptly at 12:20 and there I was. Alone with my munchkins.
It would have, could have been a fine day.
But for some odd reason, E and T thought it best to call everyone they are related to and let them know the kids were home today and that they were welcome to come over and visit.
On the way out the door E chuckled, "My mom is going to come over and talk to you about playing bridge. And T's mom will be here right after that to talk to you about boys. What are you wearing? You look like Madonna in the 80s. Have fun!"
T groaned she was sorry and they were gone.
Are they trying to torture me? Is this torture?!
I put Monkey to bed, fed R lunch, attempted to feed J something, made him cry instead and put him on the living room couch for a nap. He was asleep instantly.
Mom E showed up while the kids were asleep and I gloated inside. She said hi to R and headed out again.
T's mom called to say she would come late in the day, which was fine. I love her visits and she can entertain all three kids while I make dinner so I was looking forward to that.
Then all of a sudden all three kids were awake and E's sister was calling to come collect R for an ice cream date and T's mom showed up and then E's mom showed up and dinner was cooking but no one would leave me alone and the questions, they just kept asking questions.
At some point someone fed Monkey and I got J to eat some chicken and rice and crackers.
Mom E spent the entire evening telling me to never give him juice again and to tell T to stop buying it, so I, aggravated and overwhelmed, spent the entire evening telling her T doesn't buy it or like when the kids have it and that maybe she should tell her son, who drinks it every morning, to stop bringing it into the house.
And then after I got that out there I had to also explain that as pointless and stupid as juice is, it doesn't actually cause stomach flus.
Monkey seems to have picked up a touch of it but I swear that kid doesn't puke unless it benefits him so it's all coming out his other end in potent form.
E's sister got home with R and thankfully, was present when the two mothers started crowing about the rice not being done enough. She tasted it and told them it was fine and to pipe down and somehow I made it through the next hour without offending anybody.
FINALLY, they started to head out and as they did I got the kiddies ready for bed, gave R her dinner-after-dessert and herded them all upstairs.
Bed time ran smoothly, with me rushing everybody around all at the same time because I really had to pee.
At long last, I was free of them all. All the in-laws and extended family, all the kids and their noise and sickness and snot and crying and chaos.
I couldn't remember a time I had been that relieved to have the day be over. I don't think I ever have. I had a stare down with the dirty dishes and they won so I had to wash them.
I ate my dinner as I cleaned up because there hadn't been a moment to sit down earlier. These women who came to help me through the day made my day a million times harder. It was like having six kids and the oldest three were the worst behaved.
At three points I nearly tore out my hair but then I remembered how pretty it is and that none of this was its fault.
When the rice incident occurred it took me a moment to realize my cooking was under attack and as I stood there at the stove while the bitties tasted it and E's sister quipped half in Farsi and half in English that it was done I finally figured out how my giant ego serves me in daily life.
I think it's the only reason I survived today.
Now I am stalling upstairs in order to be present when E and T get home so I can tell them I never, ever, under any circumstances, EVER want to take on three Persian women at the same time, without backup, again. Ever. EVER.
EEEVVVVVVEEEEEERRRRRRRR.
Ok. I feel better now. Let's just write that clause into my contract and...
I am recovered.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
My new life of hypochondria.
Yesterday afternoon I started running a fever.
Let's see...it was Friday and the kids were at school. I put Monkey down for his nap and got some work done. I had exactly twenty minutes before I had to meet R's bus so I settled on the couch for some quality drool time.
I had just barely worked up a dribble when the phone rang. I cursed Alexander Graham Bell for a life-ruiner and went to answer. T's mom was calling to let me know she was at the door.
I rubbed the pillow lines off my face as I opened the door for her.
"You were sleeping? I'm sorry! I came early to bring dinner."
She had not been asked to bring dinner. We were looking forward to the first nice, quiet, solitary Shabbat dinner we've had in AGES. T was coming home early to cook, E was coming home early to eat, the kids would go to bed on time; it was going to be marvelous. I accepted a bag of cooked dill rice, an excellent dish you should all try sometime, and let her into the house.
She lingered until it was time to get R.
I died a little inside.
The day wore on and T got home with J and groceries and we put them away and she started to cook and we talked about the service man who hadn't been any help and our sisters and the kids and camping. I love chatting with her.
I took the kids outside into the sunshine because I was starting to feel cold in the house. We went to the back yard to enjoy their newly positioned clubhouse. I swear all you have to do to win a child over is rearrange their stuff. They think they're getting a new toy.
While they went to play I pulled up a patio chair and sat down and it was when my arm touched the cold metal arms of the chair that I realized something awful was happening. My skin screamed something fierce and I had to run inside for a sweatshirt. I immediately flashed back to my sickbed from a month ago and began mentally planning my next visit to the doctor.
"It wasn't strep! It came back! I must be dying! It's probably foreign. You know I've been in Africa, right? Have you checked for African strep?!"
Then I would be thrown out of the clinic and arrested for public disturbance.
I mean, the vision had its upsides too.
I would get some time off from work, I would get some quality sleep --
And that's when I realized what was wrong with my immune system. Besides the obvious fact that I've eaten nothing but fruit and challah bread since my Wednesday sugar splurge, there's the little known fact that I am averaging about four hours of actual sleep lately.
It's a convenient little mixture of insomnia and not having enough time to get my own stuff done during the day and it's ruining me.
So right after succumbing to the fear of every illness involving fever and a sore throat I could think of, I decided to get a good night's rest. I spent the rest of the day reminding myself that when I have a cold I ALWAYS have a sore throat and it didn't have to mean I have strep again.
Still, I stopped breathing near the kids and made it through the evening.
I went to bed early, with the help of some PM aid and I woke up no less than five times anyway. It was awful.
The fever broke though, so this morning I acknowledged my bed for what it is, and not my deathbed, and went on with my life.
I felt much better in spite of the fitful sleeping. No fever, my throat felt better and so (I am so ashamed to admit this) I think I might be developing seasonal allergies for the first time in my life. I am going to fight it tooth and nail and continue rubbing my face in fistfuls of pollen every chance I get until the allergies learn their lesson.
What made me really think that was that when I closed my window I stopped having throat problems. Curses.
I went cheerily up the stairs this morning, glad that I wasn't contagious or fatal. I fed R breakfast and hung out with her for a bit before T came downstairs.
"J vomited during the night."
Stop everything.
I just barely dodged death last night and now you're telling me there's a virus in this house?!
Oh wait, my boss was still talking.
"It's on his sheets and pillow, I rinsed them and put them in the basket. But it got on R's bedspread. Could you wash that too please?"
You want me to touch an infected item?! This is getting worse by the second. I am already compromised! I can't go into their room and -- I have a job here. I need to get it together.
I said ok and they finished breakfast and then both adults had to work this morning so they left me to finish feeding J and the small one, who was being a jerk this morning. Small One finally ate and went on his way.
I made myself a pancake and sat down to eat it and continue talking with J, who was actually feeding himself for a change. I took maybe three bites of my meal and the next thing I knew J's meal was spurting all over my plate.
The entire table was covered in egg whites and grape juice. The only reason I didn't barf too was that none of his food looked like barf. It looked like food.
I covered it in towels and whisked him off to the bath, because somehow it had gotten in his hair.
He was feverish so I bundled him up and left him on the couch in the living room, far away from the other kids and my poor, helpless immune system.
Thinking only of myself, I disinfected the entire kitchen, the table, the playroom and everything J has touched in the last 24 hours.
I put out the hand sanitizer and began using it every time I had to visit him. Before and after.
I washed the other two kids repeatedly, after every task, between each activity. They have never been so clean.
I spent some time in front of the bathroom mirror, making sure my glands were not swollen (they're weren't) and touching my skin against cold objects to see if it had that feverish repulsion to being cold (it didn't).
T got home before lunch time and I calmly told her J seemed to have a virus and then avoided her and him for hours. Until like, an hour ago.
This evening my throat tickles a bit and I haven't opened any windows all day, so maybe I don't have allergies (thank goodness) and maybe I really do have a cold (boo). But that's all it is. A cold. And it WILL NOT turn into anything else and I WILL not die from something as lame as strep.
I will die in Africa, from something awesome like a lion bite or sky diving in the mountains or rumbling with Kony's army of rebels, making it possible for Ugandan forces to arrest him.
I just took some DayQuil and I am hoping the PM aid I am about to down will counteract the "day" part so I can sleep tonight. It's just after nine but my condition leads me to think I should head to bed soon.
I knew aging again this year would ruin me.
I KNEW IT.
Let's see...it was Friday and the kids were at school. I put Monkey down for his nap and got some work done. I had exactly twenty minutes before I had to meet R's bus so I settled on the couch for some quality drool time.
I had just barely worked up a dribble when the phone rang. I cursed Alexander Graham Bell for a life-ruiner and went to answer. T's mom was calling to let me know she was at the door.
I rubbed the pillow lines off my face as I opened the door for her.
"You were sleeping? I'm sorry! I came early to bring dinner."
She had not been asked to bring dinner. We were looking forward to the first nice, quiet, solitary Shabbat dinner we've had in AGES. T was coming home early to cook, E was coming home early to eat, the kids would go to bed on time; it was going to be marvelous. I accepted a bag of cooked dill rice, an excellent dish you should all try sometime, and let her into the house.
She lingered until it was time to get R.
I died a little inside.
The day wore on and T got home with J and groceries and we put them away and she started to cook and we talked about the service man who hadn't been any help and our sisters and the kids and camping. I love chatting with her.
I took the kids outside into the sunshine because I was starting to feel cold in the house. We went to the back yard to enjoy their newly positioned clubhouse. I swear all you have to do to win a child over is rearrange their stuff. They think they're getting a new toy.
While they went to play I pulled up a patio chair and sat down and it was when my arm touched the cold metal arms of the chair that I realized something awful was happening. My skin screamed something fierce and I had to run inside for a sweatshirt. I immediately flashed back to my sickbed from a month ago and began mentally planning my next visit to the doctor.
"It wasn't strep! It came back! I must be dying! It's probably foreign. You know I've been in Africa, right? Have you checked for African strep?!"
Then I would be thrown out of the clinic and arrested for public disturbance.
I mean, the vision had its upsides too.
I would get some time off from work, I would get some quality sleep --
And that's when I realized what was wrong with my immune system. Besides the obvious fact that I've eaten nothing but fruit and challah bread since my Wednesday sugar splurge, there's the little known fact that I am averaging about four hours of actual sleep lately.
It's a convenient little mixture of insomnia and not having enough time to get my own stuff done during the day and it's ruining me.
So right after succumbing to the fear of every illness involving fever and a sore throat I could think of, I decided to get a good night's rest. I spent the rest of the day reminding myself that when I have a cold I ALWAYS have a sore throat and it didn't have to mean I have strep again.
Still, I stopped breathing near the kids and made it through the evening.
I went to bed early, with the help of some PM aid and I woke up no less than five times anyway. It was awful.
The fever broke though, so this morning I acknowledged my bed for what it is, and not my deathbed, and went on with my life.
I felt much better in spite of the fitful sleeping. No fever, my throat felt better and so (I am so ashamed to admit this) I think I might be developing seasonal allergies for the first time in my life. I am going to fight it tooth and nail and continue rubbing my face in fistfuls of pollen every chance I get until the allergies learn their lesson.
What made me really think that was that when I closed my window I stopped having throat problems. Curses.
I went cheerily up the stairs this morning, glad that I wasn't contagious or fatal. I fed R breakfast and hung out with her for a bit before T came downstairs.
"J vomited during the night."
Stop everything.
I just barely dodged death last night and now you're telling me there's a virus in this house?!
Oh wait, my boss was still talking.
"It's on his sheets and pillow, I rinsed them and put them in the basket. But it got on R's bedspread. Could you wash that too please?"
You want me to touch an infected item?! This is getting worse by the second. I am already compromised! I can't go into their room and -- I have a job here. I need to get it together.
I said ok and they finished breakfast and then both adults had to work this morning so they left me to finish feeding J and the small one, who was being a jerk this morning. Small One finally ate and went on his way.
I made myself a pancake and sat down to eat it and continue talking with J, who was actually feeding himself for a change. I took maybe three bites of my meal and the next thing I knew J's meal was spurting all over my plate.
The entire table was covered in egg whites and grape juice. The only reason I didn't barf too was that none of his food looked like barf. It looked like food.
I covered it in towels and whisked him off to the bath, because somehow it had gotten in his hair.
He was feverish so I bundled him up and left him on the couch in the living room, far away from the other kids and my poor, helpless immune system.
Thinking only of myself, I disinfected the entire kitchen, the table, the playroom and everything J has touched in the last 24 hours.
I put out the hand sanitizer and began using it every time I had to visit him. Before and after.
I washed the other two kids repeatedly, after every task, between each activity. They have never been so clean.
I spent some time in front of the bathroom mirror, making sure my glands were not swollen (they're weren't) and touching my skin against cold objects to see if it had that feverish repulsion to being cold (it didn't).
T got home before lunch time and I calmly told her J seemed to have a virus and then avoided her and him for hours. Until like, an hour ago.
This evening my throat tickles a bit and I haven't opened any windows all day, so maybe I don't have allergies (thank goodness) and maybe I really do have a cold (boo). But that's all it is. A cold. And it WILL NOT turn into anything else and I WILL not die from something as lame as strep.
I will die in Africa, from something awesome like a lion bite or sky diving in the mountains or rumbling with Kony's army of rebels, making it possible for Ugandan forces to arrest him.
I just took some DayQuil and I am hoping the PM aid I am about to down will counteract the "day" part so I can sleep tonight. It's just after nine but my condition leads me to think I should head to bed soon.
I knew aging again this year would ruin me.
I KNEW IT.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Oh the snobbiness that comes with extra time...
So, my muse tells me it's been a week.
Where shall I begin?
Last Wednesday, I celebrated my birthday with my family; or part of it. One of the downsides to having a gloriously large family is that coordinating our lives and schedules is pretty difficult. Especially now that everyone is grown and we all live in different places.
So, the part of the family that is closest to NY, my brother and his wife and son, my mom and sister and another sister and her son, joined me for the GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH.
Before the show, I caught an early-ish train to my sister-in-law's house and we hit the mall and hit it hard. Exhausted from shopping, we went home to stuff ourselves and drink.
Then the circus happened. Everyone had a good time and we all parted ways after and for once, I made it home before everyone else. There was a bus from the center where the circus had been right to the city.
Twas perfect.
This week, T's family, specifically her sister, has thrown together a surprise baby shower. That's right. A fourth kid baby shower.
Since it is a surprise and since her unintelligent sister planned it for Wednesday, there were a few kinks in the schedule that had to be worked out.
T's dad offered to ask T to work that day so that she would be local, instead of in the city for work. Still, the party is at the sister's house and no one knows yet how they're getting her there. E asked me to say yes when T asked me to work that Wednesday so when she did I said I could work Wednesday and would take Tuesday off instead.
Unfortunately, T had a doctor's appointment this morning and so we arranged for me to take off both evenings and work both mornings. When we made this wonderful arrangement I had absolutely no plans in mind.
Sunday was one of the longest days in history but the good news is that after that, Monday didn't hit so hard. I got a lot done yesterday and then walked/jogged three horrendous miles with the running stroller T got just for me.
She tried to take Monkey to the park I walk to last Wednesday and it destroyed her.
It nearly destroyed me since I haven't done that walk with the stroller since October-ish, but we made it and then I was feeling pretty proud of myself so I ate chocolate for lunch. Pure chocolate.
Then I felt sick for two hours, so instead of working I laid around on the couch wondering how I would get through this week while my favorite texting buddy is on vacation and out of service.
It's brutal.
This morning I got a lot more done, and now with my extra morning of work tomorrow, I'm not sure there's anything left in the house that needs cleaning at the moment so you know what that means?
I'm getting out the summer clothes. It's time.
I switched my shoes the other night, because let's face it, that is the most important thing. Start showing off the beautiful spring shows ASAP. That's my motto.
So tonight, I got all gussied up for my non-plans and put on my new favorite (well, one of four favorites) shoes and headed out into Great Neck to gallivant for a while. I JUST made plans with a friend (who is on her way and I should be watching for her) and now I am in my coffee shop.
One of my favorite things about this little corner of Great Neck is that a lot of the hired folk seem to hang out here and they don't expect it when a stranger smiles at them. So I smile at everyone and to the people who look the most annoyed with unsolicited hospitality, I also say "Good afternoon!"
And they cringe.
Well, the other snobby ones do.
The other "blue collar" peeps like myself smile back.
Twenty minutes ago when I still had no plans I was sitting at the train station, contemplating a run to the city to entertain myself and I got a phone call. When I said hello and started talking the girl next to me on the bench rolled her eyes quite obviously and groaned, "Now we have to listen to this..." like me saying hi to someone was the worst thing she ever heard.
I graciously got up and walked away, because I don't like listening to other people on the phone either, unless the conversation is really good, but I couldn't believe how nasty she was about it. And we were outside, to boot. I don't talk on the phone on a crowded train at the top of my lungs, going in and out of reception, screaming to Karl about he numbers and the meetings and meeting the boss at the airport (actual conversation on the LIRR the other day) so I don't know what she found so offensive.
Still, I left. Mostly because I no longer needed to board the train.
I really should go watch for Aimee so I'll leave you with this.
The return of the warm weather has brought with it some wonderful changes in my kids' behavior. I am able to efficiently run them around outside, feed them and deposit them in bed without all the effort it took over the winter. It's magical.
We've had the windows open, we've broken out the Popsicles in the afternoon, we run, we laugh, we play.
The only downside to this gorgeous weather is what's happening in the basement.
Last year's dehumidifier broke down and I am waiting on E to get another one. I don't think he's going to rush, number one, because I told him I don't get paid to worry about what he eats on my nights off. Tonight he's fending for himself while T takes the kids out and leaves him with the baby. And number two, because our brand spanking new refrigerator is malfunctioning. The freezer won't quite freeze but the refrigerator on the other hand, has frozen and ruined all of our produce.
So, dehumidifier is number two on the list. And number three is the French drain that will keep the water from happening on the floor this year. CAN'T WAIT FOR THAT.
In the mean time, the cess pool trap has begun filling regularly again and the water level rose high enough to disturb several immensely large and disgusting spiders that have been living there.
I encountered three the other night and ran to find a garden hoe with a long handle and used it to push them all back into the hole, into the water. I waited only long enough to make sure they drowned before shuddering and screeching and fleeing that side of the basement in repulsion.
An hour later I doused the entire basement in bug killer, vacuumed it, and doused it again and I haven't seen anything since then.
Ok. Going to watch for Aimee for real this time!
Happy Spring everybody!!!
Where shall I begin?
Last Wednesday, I celebrated my birthday with my family; or part of it. One of the downsides to having a gloriously large family is that coordinating our lives and schedules is pretty difficult. Especially now that everyone is grown and we all live in different places.
So, the part of the family that is closest to NY, my brother and his wife and son, my mom and sister and another sister and her son, joined me for the GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH.
Before the show, I caught an early-ish train to my sister-in-law's house and we hit the mall and hit it hard. Exhausted from shopping, we went home to stuff ourselves and drink.
Then the circus happened. Everyone had a good time and we all parted ways after and for once, I made it home before everyone else. There was a bus from the center where the circus had been right to the city.
Twas perfect.
This week, T's family, specifically her sister, has thrown together a surprise baby shower. That's right. A fourth kid baby shower.
Since it is a surprise and since her unintelligent sister planned it for Wednesday, there were a few kinks in the schedule that had to be worked out.
T's dad offered to ask T to work that day so that she would be local, instead of in the city for work. Still, the party is at the sister's house and no one knows yet how they're getting her there. E asked me to say yes when T asked me to work that Wednesday so when she did I said I could work Wednesday and would take Tuesday off instead.
Unfortunately, T had a doctor's appointment this morning and so we arranged for me to take off both evenings and work both mornings. When we made this wonderful arrangement I had absolutely no plans in mind.
Sunday was one of the longest days in history but the good news is that after that, Monday didn't hit so hard. I got a lot done yesterday and then walked/jogged three horrendous miles with the running stroller T got just for me.
She tried to take Monkey to the park I walk to last Wednesday and it destroyed her.
It nearly destroyed me since I haven't done that walk with the stroller since October-ish, but we made it and then I was feeling pretty proud of myself so I ate chocolate for lunch. Pure chocolate.
Then I felt sick for two hours, so instead of working I laid around on the couch wondering how I would get through this week while my favorite texting buddy is on vacation and out of service.
It's brutal.
This morning I got a lot more done, and now with my extra morning of work tomorrow, I'm not sure there's anything left in the house that needs cleaning at the moment so you know what that means?
I'm getting out the summer clothes. It's time.
I switched my shoes the other night, because let's face it, that is the most important thing. Start showing off the beautiful spring shows ASAP. That's my motto.
So tonight, I got all gussied up for my non-plans and put on my new favorite (well, one of four favorites) shoes and headed out into Great Neck to gallivant for a while. I JUST made plans with a friend (who is on her way and I should be watching for her) and now I am in my coffee shop.
One of my favorite things about this little corner of Great Neck is that a lot of the hired folk seem to hang out here and they don't expect it when a stranger smiles at them. So I smile at everyone and to the people who look the most annoyed with unsolicited hospitality, I also say "Good afternoon!"
And they cringe.
Well, the other snobby ones do.
The other "blue collar" peeps like myself smile back.
Twenty minutes ago when I still had no plans I was sitting at the train station, contemplating a run to the city to entertain myself and I got a phone call. When I said hello and started talking the girl next to me on the bench rolled her eyes quite obviously and groaned, "Now we have to listen to this..." like me saying hi to someone was the worst thing she ever heard.
I graciously got up and walked away, because I don't like listening to other people on the phone either, unless the conversation is really good, but I couldn't believe how nasty she was about it. And we were outside, to boot. I don't talk on the phone on a crowded train at the top of my lungs, going in and out of reception, screaming to Karl about he numbers and the meetings and meeting the boss at the airport (actual conversation on the LIRR the other day) so I don't know what she found so offensive.
Still, I left. Mostly because I no longer needed to board the train.
I really should go watch for Aimee so I'll leave you with this.
The return of the warm weather has brought with it some wonderful changes in my kids' behavior. I am able to efficiently run them around outside, feed them and deposit them in bed without all the effort it took over the winter. It's magical.
We've had the windows open, we've broken out the Popsicles in the afternoon, we run, we laugh, we play.
The only downside to this gorgeous weather is what's happening in the basement.
Last year's dehumidifier broke down and I am waiting on E to get another one. I don't think he's going to rush, number one, because I told him I don't get paid to worry about what he eats on my nights off. Tonight he's fending for himself while T takes the kids out and leaves him with the baby. And number two, because our brand spanking new refrigerator is malfunctioning. The freezer won't quite freeze but the refrigerator on the other hand, has frozen and ruined all of our produce.
So, dehumidifier is number two on the list. And number three is the French drain that will keep the water from happening on the floor this year. CAN'T WAIT FOR THAT.
In the mean time, the cess pool trap has begun filling regularly again and the water level rose high enough to disturb several immensely large and disgusting spiders that have been living there.
I encountered three the other night and ran to find a garden hoe with a long handle and used it to push them all back into the hole, into the water. I waited only long enough to make sure they drowned before shuddering and screeching and fleeing that side of the basement in repulsion.
An hour later I doused the entire basement in bug killer, vacuumed it, and doused it again and I haven't seen anything since then.
Ok. Going to watch for Aimee for real this time!
Happy Spring everybody!!!
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
It just happened.
A lot of it.
Yesterday was the first day since I had strep that I have felt completely full of energy. I don't know if it was the weather or my raging hormones or the fact that I downloaded new music to my iPod but I took the baby out for the walk of the century and felt the wicked burn of doing things.
Today, my ambitious drive continued.
I got little sleep last night because I was finishing up the most terrifying book ever written and being harassed by Ashley who she thinks she soooooo funny.
This morning I dragged myself out of bed and swore to my weary body that I would nap today. But then I got upstairs and did some morning things and all of a sudden napping was the last thing on my mind.
I went upstairs after everyone left, intending to get some laundry and accidentally spent an hour thoroughly cleaning all three bedrooms and rearranging furniture and getting the newborn crib set up in T and E's room.
While I was moving things around upstairs Monkey followed me around and every time I asked him if he wanted to get a baby he said yes. He was so enthralled with the changes in his room and he bounced around saying, "Baby? Yes!"
Then I took the mobile off his crib (he never uses it -- ever) and put it onto the newborn crib. He stopped playing and stood by, watching with a serious face. I asked him again if we should get a baby and he said. "NOOOOOOOO!"
Oh just wait, Monkey, wait.
T had the bug too I guess because she accidentally went to her mom's to pick up the changing station attachments for the living room playpen and then returned home with them.
We're getting excited.
My energy level never wavered.
I got SO MUCH done today.
When all the kids got home for school we made some chocolate chocolate chocolate brownies at T's kind request.
She hasn't had an appetite for anything in months and all of a sudden the baby has a sweet tooth.
I was melting baking chocolate and the kids were begging to taste it because it looked so smooth and yummy so I let them and their face were AWESOME.
Once we cleaned up the giant powdery mess in the kitchen we headed outside to soak up the wonderful sun.
We went in to eat an early dinner and then headed outside again.
The kids were so good today. I think their cabin fever was getting as bad as the adults' so being able to get out and run around has really made them behave better. Especially the small nasty one.
Right around time to go inside J yelled that he had to poop and ran in ahead of us. We picked up the toys and put them in the garage and as I entered the kitchen I heard J shouting something about his jacket and the floor and that it was an accident.
"Ok!" I called back, assuming that he meant he had thrown his jacket to the floor in a hurry and was letting me know, because I have been all over him about throwing his jacket on the floor this week.
I got the other two inside and sent them to the playroom and went into the bathroom expecting to wipe a butt.
I wish, oh how I wish, I could share the picture with you.
J was standing, still in his jacket, at the pot, aiming properly into the bowl while he peed. His rear end was covered in pooh, as were the backs of his legs, his pants huddled down around his ankles. And there on the floor, was a giant pile of turd, just hanging out behind him.
When he saw me his face fell and he said,
"I'm sorry, Kimmy."
I lost it. I couldn't stop laughing. I took a picture and sent it to T. R came to see why I was laughing and then she giggled, too. We pinched our noses and whined about how much it smelled and then he giggled a little too.
I told him he wouldn't be in trouble because he hadn't had an accident in his pants. He hasn't done that in weeks and he honestly didn't mean to poop on the floor. He went on to explain how it had just come out when he was peeing and that he had more.
"Ok, hold it in while I clean you up. Don't let it come out."
I went to get paper towels to cover the mess on the floor and when I came back he was holding his filthy butt in both hands.
"I'm holding it in, Kimmy!" He promised.
"BATH TIME!"
My kids were fed and bathed by six o'clock tonight.
T got home right after their bath and I told her how ahead of schedule we were and she laughed about J's little incident.
We all ate several brownies and then the kids ran around to work off the sugar high. E got home a while later and they decided to go out to celebrate the return of T's appetite.
They were upstairs getting the kids washed up and settled down a bit and I went up with Monkey's milk. T waved me into the room when I hesitated in the hallway. That's been our system ever since the nude scene a few months ago.
As I entered the room E, who WAS clothed, covered his chest with his arms and gasped like I had walked in on him. I had an immediate panic attack and closed my eyes and T started laughing.
"Don't scare me like that!"
They snuck out for their first date in a long time and I snuck into the play room where I am supposed to be looking up trains for tomorrow morning.
I am spending the day with my sister-in-law and then my sisters and Mom are joining us for the circus! I am SO excited.
And I'm telling you this, because you definitely won't be hearing from me tomorrow.
Yesterday was the first day since I had strep that I have felt completely full of energy. I don't know if it was the weather or my raging hormones or the fact that I downloaded new music to my iPod but I took the baby out for the walk of the century and felt the wicked burn of doing things.
Today, my ambitious drive continued.
I got little sleep last night because I was finishing up the most terrifying book ever written and being harassed by Ashley who she thinks she soooooo funny.
This morning I dragged myself out of bed and swore to my weary body that I would nap today. But then I got upstairs and did some morning things and all of a sudden napping was the last thing on my mind.
I went upstairs after everyone left, intending to get some laundry and accidentally spent an hour thoroughly cleaning all three bedrooms and rearranging furniture and getting the newborn crib set up in T and E's room.
While I was moving things around upstairs Monkey followed me around and every time I asked him if he wanted to get a baby he said yes. He was so enthralled with the changes in his room and he bounced around saying, "Baby? Yes!"
Then I took the mobile off his crib (he never uses it -- ever) and put it onto the newborn crib. He stopped playing and stood by, watching with a serious face. I asked him again if we should get a baby and he said. "NOOOOOOOO!"
Oh just wait, Monkey, wait.
T had the bug too I guess because she accidentally went to her mom's to pick up the changing station attachments for the living room playpen and then returned home with them.
We're getting excited.
My energy level never wavered.
I got SO MUCH done today.
When all the kids got home for school we made some chocolate chocolate chocolate brownies at T's kind request.
She hasn't had an appetite for anything in months and all of a sudden the baby has a sweet tooth.
I was melting baking chocolate and the kids were begging to taste it because it looked so smooth and yummy so I let them and their face were AWESOME.
Once we cleaned up the giant powdery mess in the kitchen we headed outside to soak up the wonderful sun.
We went in to eat an early dinner and then headed outside again.
The kids were so good today. I think their cabin fever was getting as bad as the adults' so being able to get out and run around has really made them behave better. Especially the small nasty one.
Right around time to go inside J yelled that he had to poop and ran in ahead of us. We picked up the toys and put them in the garage and as I entered the kitchen I heard J shouting something about his jacket and the floor and that it was an accident.
"Ok!" I called back, assuming that he meant he had thrown his jacket to the floor in a hurry and was letting me know, because I have been all over him about throwing his jacket on the floor this week.
I got the other two inside and sent them to the playroom and went into the bathroom expecting to wipe a butt.
I wish, oh how I wish, I could share the picture with you.
J was standing, still in his jacket, at the pot, aiming properly into the bowl while he peed. His rear end was covered in pooh, as were the backs of his legs, his pants huddled down around his ankles. And there on the floor, was a giant pile of turd, just hanging out behind him.
When he saw me his face fell and he said,
"I'm sorry, Kimmy."
I lost it. I couldn't stop laughing. I took a picture and sent it to T. R came to see why I was laughing and then she giggled, too. We pinched our noses and whined about how much it smelled and then he giggled a little too.
I told him he wouldn't be in trouble because he hadn't had an accident in his pants. He hasn't done that in weeks and he honestly didn't mean to poop on the floor. He went on to explain how it had just come out when he was peeing and that he had more.
"Ok, hold it in while I clean you up. Don't let it come out."
I went to get paper towels to cover the mess on the floor and when I came back he was holding his filthy butt in both hands.
"I'm holding it in, Kimmy!" He promised.
"BATH TIME!"
My kids were fed and bathed by six o'clock tonight.
T got home right after their bath and I told her how ahead of schedule we were and she laughed about J's little incident.
We all ate several brownies and then the kids ran around to work off the sugar high. E got home a while later and they decided to go out to celebrate the return of T's appetite.
They were upstairs getting the kids washed up and settled down a bit and I went up with Monkey's milk. T waved me into the room when I hesitated in the hallway. That's been our system ever since the nude scene a few months ago.
As I entered the room E, who WAS clothed, covered his chest with his arms and gasped like I had walked in on him. I had an immediate panic attack and closed my eyes and T started laughing.
"Don't scare me like that!"
They snuck out for their first date in a long time and I snuck into the play room where I am supposed to be looking up trains for tomorrow morning.
I am spending the day with my sister-in-law and then my sisters and Mom are joining us for the circus! I am SO excited.
And I'm telling you this, because you definitely won't be hearing from me tomorrow.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Why????????
Since you last heard from me I have aged considerably.
I just posted from last Tuesday (Sorry Flo -- I forgot to publish it!) and the day after I wrote that entry I turned 27.
That's right. I am admitting my true age. This once.
I had a wonderful day full of shopping and food that is definitely not on my diet plan. I spent the evening at church for a YOUNG adults meeting because I AM YOUNG and they surprised me with a cake.
On Thursday, my work family took me out for dinner and surprised me with another cake.
On Friday, I don't remember most of what happened that day but the family was going to E's sister's for Shabbat and it was a particularly late engagement so I got to stay home to put the baby to bed. It was glorious.
On Saturday things got interesting again.
T and I took the the kids to the Manhattan Children's Museum.
Dumbest museum ever, but the kids LOVED it.
Ok, there were a few really interesting and intelligent exhibits but the one the kids really loved, the one we spent the entire morning in, the one with the least amount of intelligence and educational material was the Diego/Dora floor.
Oh my word it was brutal. Thankfully, Dora's house had a pretty comfortable couch so T and I set up shop while the monsters tore around the "museum" playing with toy food and stuffed animals, both of which we have plenty of at home.
Although, they are dwindling in numbers.
I have begun spring cleaning and preparing for the baby.
Last year when I started here, one of the first things I did was clean every toy in this house. I intended to do it in January, on the six month marker, but I was still hibernating for the winter, so I am doing it now.
I have thrown out two bags full of stuffed animals and broken toys and the kids have yet to notice anything missing. My next mission is to thin out the MASSIVE pile of glitter-ridden art projects the schools send home every day. EVERY DAY.
By the time we left the museum we were pooped but we met some friends of T's for lunch at a fabulous pizza place and while the baby napped we all enjoyed our meals. The kids played with the other kids and the grown ups talked and I ate the best pizza ever, which was also not on my diet plan. But it was delicious.
Pear and Gorgonzola, for all you adventurous eaters out there. AMAZING.
J nodded off on the car ride home and slept for the entire night. The other two were pretty good and they ate and went to bed.
On Sunday we all woke up grumpy, having lost an hour of our lives. We spent a long time complaining about this daylight savings nonsense and contemplating moving to one of the two and half states that doesn't have it and then we got dressed and herded the kids off to birthday parties.
I had some down time to call my own in the afternoon and then T and I got into a conversation and she realized that it is March and her due date is April and oh my goodness we have a lot to do.
We talked through setting up playpens and changing stations and getting blankets and clothes ready. Lucky for her, I am the queen of organization and early preparation as long as I am being paid for it and I have two-thirds of this stuff ready to go.
Her panic died down and we kicked off this morning quite normally.
The weather was GORGEOUS so I did some quick cleaning and whisked the monster baby off to the park. We spent the morning out in the sun and he slept like a rock through nap time.
Grandma came over while he was sleeping to make dinner (love her! -- she also bought me two pairs of shoes for my birthday) and while she waited for rice to boil she spent her time harassing R about wearing a sweater in 66 degree weather.
She left and came back later when J was home and did the same to him. She sat in the playroom and told me how chilly it was. I had windows open all day and she started to rub her arms and cringe and then finally put her jacket on and warned me against trusting this weather.
Her theory is that this weather makes you think it's warm but it's really not.
Yeah, 66 degrees is tricky.
But I obliged and put sweatshirts on the kids and when she left we all stripped and ran to play in the basement where it was only 62 degrees.
I spent my evening feeding them and passing them off to T and hiding from them until she had them all in bed.
And then I sat down, really excited to get on actual Facebook, and not just my phone app for the first time in a while.
Of course it didn't work. I typed in my password, which should have been saved already, no less than twenty times and it simply refuses to log me in. I even changed it through my email and tried again.
My password works just fine on my phone, but on the computer nothing happens. I tried over and over again until I was thinking all kinds of bad thoughts about Facebook and its overseers and then finally I gave up and did some other (more productive) things online.
I'm working through the frustration and so far, so good. I'm also working through a bout of insomnia and the dread of Passover, which Nanny K has informed me is not much fun.
I've changed my residency to New York so I am ashamed to announce I am officially one of them and that the reason I have done this is to obtain my driver's license in this state and then become one of those New York drivers we all complain about.
My goal is to bring some Pennsylvanian driver's courtesy to this state while attempting not to bring harm to either Mercedes I have access to.
T's goal is to get me driving so that she can stay home and nurse the baby while the house falls into disarray because I am running the kids around instead of staying home.
This role change has her super excited and me super nervous.
AND FACEBOOK STILL WON'T WORK!
I just posted from last Tuesday (Sorry Flo -- I forgot to publish it!) and the day after I wrote that entry I turned 27.
That's right. I am admitting my true age. This once.
I had a wonderful day full of shopping and food that is definitely not on my diet plan. I spent the evening at church for a YOUNG adults meeting because I AM YOUNG and they surprised me with a cake.
On Thursday, my work family took me out for dinner and surprised me with another cake.
On Friday, I don't remember most of what happened that day but the family was going to E's sister's for Shabbat and it was a particularly late engagement so I got to stay home to put the baby to bed. It was glorious.
On Saturday things got interesting again.
T and I took the the kids to the Manhattan Children's Museum.
Dumbest museum ever, but the kids LOVED it.
Ok, there were a few really interesting and intelligent exhibits but the one the kids really loved, the one we spent the entire morning in, the one with the least amount of intelligence and educational material was the Diego/Dora floor.
Oh my word it was brutal. Thankfully, Dora's house had a pretty comfortable couch so T and I set up shop while the monsters tore around the "museum" playing with toy food and stuffed animals, both of which we have plenty of at home.
Although, they are dwindling in numbers.
I have begun spring cleaning and preparing for the baby.
Last year when I started here, one of the first things I did was clean every toy in this house. I intended to do it in January, on the six month marker, but I was still hibernating for the winter, so I am doing it now.
I have thrown out two bags full of stuffed animals and broken toys and the kids have yet to notice anything missing. My next mission is to thin out the MASSIVE pile of glitter-ridden art projects the schools send home every day. EVERY DAY.
By the time we left the museum we were pooped but we met some friends of T's for lunch at a fabulous pizza place and while the baby napped we all enjoyed our meals. The kids played with the other kids and the grown ups talked and I ate the best pizza ever, which was also not on my diet plan. But it was delicious.
Pear and Gorgonzola, for all you adventurous eaters out there. AMAZING.
J nodded off on the car ride home and slept for the entire night. The other two were pretty good and they ate and went to bed.
On Sunday we all woke up grumpy, having lost an hour of our lives. We spent a long time complaining about this daylight savings nonsense and contemplating moving to one of the two and half states that doesn't have it and then we got dressed and herded the kids off to birthday parties.
I had some down time to call my own in the afternoon and then T and I got into a conversation and she realized that it is March and her due date is April and oh my goodness we have a lot to do.
We talked through setting up playpens and changing stations and getting blankets and clothes ready. Lucky for her, I am the queen of organization and early preparation as long as I am being paid for it and I have two-thirds of this stuff ready to go.
Her panic died down and we kicked off this morning quite normally.
The weather was GORGEOUS so I did some quick cleaning and whisked the monster baby off to the park. We spent the morning out in the sun and he slept like a rock through nap time.
Grandma came over while he was sleeping to make dinner (love her! -- she also bought me two pairs of shoes for my birthday) and while she waited for rice to boil she spent her time harassing R about wearing a sweater in 66 degree weather.
She left and came back later when J was home and did the same to him. She sat in the playroom and told me how chilly it was. I had windows open all day and she started to rub her arms and cringe and then finally put her jacket on and warned me against trusting this weather.
Her theory is that this weather makes you think it's warm but it's really not.
Yeah, 66 degrees is tricky.
But I obliged and put sweatshirts on the kids and when she left we all stripped and ran to play in the basement where it was only 62 degrees.
I spent my evening feeding them and passing them off to T and hiding from them until she had them all in bed.
And then I sat down, really excited to get on actual Facebook, and not just my phone app for the first time in a while.
Of course it didn't work. I typed in my password, which should have been saved already, no less than twenty times and it simply refuses to log me in. I even changed it through my email and tried again.
My password works just fine on my phone, but on the computer nothing happens. I tried over and over again until I was thinking all kinds of bad thoughts about Facebook and its overseers and then finally I gave up and did some other (more productive) things online.
I'm working through the frustration and so far, so good. I'm also working through a bout of insomnia and the dread of Passover, which Nanny K has informed me is not much fun.
I've changed my residency to New York so I am ashamed to announce I am officially one of them and that the reason I have done this is to obtain my driver's license in this state and then become one of those New York drivers we all complain about.
My goal is to bring some Pennsylvanian driver's courtesy to this state while attempting not to bring harm to either Mercedes I have access to.
T's goal is to get me driving so that she can stay home and nurse the baby while the house falls into disarray because I am running the kids around instead of staying home.
This role change has her super excited and me super nervous.
AND FACEBOOK STILL WON'T WORK!
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
How many hamantashins can I eat in one day?
Nine.
For anyone who doesn't know what a hamantashin is (I didn't) it is a small, triangle shaped piece of heaven. It's a cookie for Purim, and it's shaped like a triangle after some one's hat and whatever... The point is that they are delicious. They can have chocolate or fruit or chocolate and fruit inside them and honestly, I don't even have a preference. Just give them to me!
I had one after breakfast, which was uneventful, and the kids all got off to school on time and without crying about anything.
I took an hour to go through some calming exercises like browsing Pinterest and sitting down to get over my late night ire over this Kirk Cameron business. For the record for those who don't know me personally, I am on his side.
After working through my anger I worked through some work and then most of the afternoon. Before J got home from school, the phone rang and one of T's friends dropped off a gift bag full of treats for Purim and in it were more, you guessed it, hamantashins.
I ate two.
And then while the kids were playing, two more.
To balance things out, I played with the kids for a while and then ate two more.
My biggest project of the day was doing my own laundry, so when the dryer was done I herded my bunch to the basement and put it all away and cleaned my room while the munchkins ran around.
I've been telling them the Pineapple Princess story a lot lately and they love it so I dug out my copy of the High School Musical 2 soundtrack and played Ashley Tisdale's song about it.
We played it three times and the kids quickly learned the first half of the prince's long Hawaiian name. They sang it for the rest of the night.
T was going to try to get home in time for us to go out to dinner tonight but she got stuck in traffic instead, so we threw together some fried chicken and had an uneventful dinner to round out our day.
And then I ate two more cookies.
Nothing of interest occurred after that. Bed time happened and then it was Adult Wind Down Hour.
And I ate two more hamantashins.
For anyone who doesn't know what a hamantashin is (I didn't) it is a small, triangle shaped piece of heaven. It's a cookie for Purim, and it's shaped like a triangle after some one's hat and whatever... The point is that they are delicious. They can have chocolate or fruit or chocolate and fruit inside them and honestly, I don't even have a preference. Just give them to me!
I had one after breakfast, which was uneventful, and the kids all got off to school on time and without crying about anything.
I took an hour to go through some calming exercises like browsing Pinterest and sitting down to get over my late night ire over this Kirk Cameron business. For the record for those who don't know me personally, I am on his side.
After working through my anger I worked through some work and then most of the afternoon. Before J got home from school, the phone rang and one of T's friends dropped off a gift bag full of treats for Purim and in it were more, you guessed it, hamantashins.
I ate two.
And then while the kids were playing, two more.
To balance things out, I played with the kids for a while and then ate two more.
My biggest project of the day was doing my own laundry, so when the dryer was done I herded my bunch to the basement and put it all away and cleaned my room while the munchkins ran around.
I've been telling them the Pineapple Princess story a lot lately and they love it so I dug out my copy of the High School Musical 2 soundtrack and played Ashley Tisdale's song about it.
We played it three times and the kids quickly learned the first half of the prince's long Hawaiian name. They sang it for the rest of the night.
T was going to try to get home in time for us to go out to dinner tonight but she got stuck in traffic instead, so we threw together some fried chicken and had an uneventful dinner to round out our day.
And then I ate two more cookies.
Nothing of interest occurred after that. Bed time happened and then it was Adult Wind Down Hour.
And I ate two more hamantashins.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Noise and such.
What was that noise coming down through two floors at six in the morning?
Why, it was baby Monkey! Screaming for someone to let him out of bed.
We need to teach that kid how to read a clock.
I normally don't hear him, but after a string of particularly vivid and disruptive nightmares I woke up for the third time around that time and listened through intermittent dozing until it was time to get out of bed.
Today's theme was ill-timed visits from as many people as possible.
Mom E showed up fifteen minutes before Monkey's lunch time and had to be ushered out the door again. But before she left, she eyed the leftover chicken pot pie I had made the other night, tried a piece and then told me everything that was wrong with it and suggested I stop feeding the children bread.
She tells me that all the time; how they don't need to eat bread or carbs. Really?!
She's really starting to get to me.
When she had finally gone, I put him to bed and got some housework done. I picked up R at the bus as usual and she got picked up for Hebrew school a bit later.
When T came home to drop off J, he had brought a friend along and I was shoulder deep in four loads of laundry. This particular little visitor is very well behaved but he's MESSY and he always manages to poop while he's here.
I don't mind too much, especially because he calls it the Spanish word for pooh, which is fun for me because I have flash backs to some kids I watched years ago.
But like I said, literally suffocating in the back up of responsibilities from serious slacking off this weekend.
He went home around 4, after surviving several attacks of the monster baby.
T brought R home, along with the ingredients for dinner and I zipped around the kitchen getting it put together and feeding the rascals. We were about five minutes into dinner when Grandma dropped by and briefly upset everything.
Fortunately for me, she is much better with the kids and she told them she would leave if they didn't keep eating and she even joined us, so they settled back down and ate.
However, R let it slip to Grandma that my birthday is on Wednesday, something I told the kids when they asked me point blank when my birthday was, but had successfully kept from the adults up to that point.
She immediately asked me what my clothing size was. So nice, but so unnecessary.
We got through a bath and dressing for bed before Daddy came home and R continued spilling the beans about my birthday. So much for discretion.
I'm not complaining; I love presents. I just don't like people feeling like they have to get me something. AND I really don't like the fact that I am still aging against my will. What is up with that?!
As I am finishing this post, word is being spread in the living room that it's my birthday and E and T just yelled through the quiet, sleeping house that we're going out to dinner to celebrate on Thursday.
E added that I have the same birthday as his mother and offered to send the pair of us on a cruise.
Oi vey.
"Ok." I called back. "But she might not come back."
So dinner is on.
They rock.
Why, it was baby Monkey! Screaming for someone to let him out of bed.
We need to teach that kid how to read a clock.
I normally don't hear him, but after a string of particularly vivid and disruptive nightmares I woke up for the third time around that time and listened through intermittent dozing until it was time to get out of bed.
Today's theme was ill-timed visits from as many people as possible.
Mom E showed up fifteen minutes before Monkey's lunch time and had to be ushered out the door again. But before she left, she eyed the leftover chicken pot pie I had made the other night, tried a piece and then told me everything that was wrong with it and suggested I stop feeding the children bread.
She tells me that all the time; how they don't need to eat bread or carbs. Really?!
She's really starting to get to me.
When she had finally gone, I put him to bed and got some housework done. I picked up R at the bus as usual and she got picked up for Hebrew school a bit later.
When T came home to drop off J, he had brought a friend along and I was shoulder deep in four loads of laundry. This particular little visitor is very well behaved but he's MESSY and he always manages to poop while he's here.
I don't mind too much, especially because he calls it the Spanish word for pooh, which is fun for me because I have flash backs to some kids I watched years ago.
But like I said, literally suffocating in the back up of responsibilities from serious slacking off this weekend.
He went home around 4, after surviving several attacks of the monster baby.
T brought R home, along with the ingredients for dinner and I zipped around the kitchen getting it put together and feeding the rascals. We were about five minutes into dinner when Grandma dropped by and briefly upset everything.
Fortunately for me, she is much better with the kids and she told them she would leave if they didn't keep eating and she even joined us, so they settled back down and ate.
However, R let it slip to Grandma that my birthday is on Wednesday, something I told the kids when they asked me point blank when my birthday was, but had successfully kept from the adults up to that point.
She immediately asked me what my clothing size was. So nice, but so unnecessary.
We got through a bath and dressing for bed before Daddy came home and R continued spilling the beans about my birthday. So much for discretion.
I'm not complaining; I love presents. I just don't like people feeling like they have to get me something. AND I really don't like the fact that I am still aging against my will. What is up with that?!
As I am finishing this post, word is being spread in the living room that it's my birthday and E and T just yelled through the quiet, sleeping house that we're going out to dinner to celebrate on Thursday.
E added that I have the same birthday as his mother and offered to send the pair of us on a cruise.
Oi vey.
"Ok." I called back. "But she might not come back."
So dinner is on.
They rock.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Festivities.
This lovely Sunday I had to work, again.
The kids have a cousin who turned five today and her party was this morning. We had to be out of the house early for the brunch party, so I got up extra early to have some quiet Sabbath time before the wild Indians had to get ready.
And wild they were.
Normally, our seating arrangement in the car is the two bigger kids in the very back, me and the babe in the middle and the parents up front, BUT the middle middle seat that normally folds down and pushes forward so R can get into her seat was broken.
T picked up her niece and nephew from school one day last week and the little monsters stuffed the magical loop that makes the seat move waaaaaaaay down inside the tiny crack it comes out of.
T spent a good fifteen minutes trying to get it back out this morning before we just headed out with R sitting between the small one and me. The forty minute trip was riddled with yells from R to be left alone and screams from the baby trying to get her toys.
Serenity now.
The party was actually really great.
In keeping with the ridiculously extravagant child birthday party theme, there was a massive layout of food upstairs and a wild kid zone in the basement. A HUGE screen TV played Beauty and the Beast in one corner and in the other corner Rapunzel was painting pictures on little girls' hands and Bobo, the hottest clown to ever live was making balloons.
Bobo had no face make up on, just wore a stupid colored outfit and beautiful blue eyes. I spent a good twenty minutes with my kids in line for balloons animals, letting every other child in the room go ahead of us so that I could keep chatting with Blue Eyes -- I mean Bobo.
Then Rapunzel did a magic show and since Tangled is one of my favorite movies of all time, I was almost as taken with her as the kids were. At the end she a real live bunny. A BUNNY!
Pizza was served to the kids, and no one threw up on me, so that was cool.
T's sister was there, too and I talked with her for a but, making a serious effort to not belittle her in my head. I did pretty well and I think I can like her since I don't have to work for her. While I was with her, Bobo was making freshly spun cotton candy.
I wasn't kidding about extravagant.
After the kids finished gorging themselves on crap and pizza-shaped crap, we headed home. J fell asleep in the car and Monkey ALMOST DID. He was nearly out when R decided to rile him up again and got herself in huge trouble.
At home, baby went to bed, J slept in the car and R got sent to her room. T barely made it into the house before hitting the couch and conking out. I followed suit and passed out on the playroom couch. We slept until it was time to go to T's mom's house for Linner.
That's right, today we ate Brunch and Linner.
And the kids were massively confused.
On the way out the door, we all made bathroom stops. After the kids had gone I went in and a moment later, thanks to the wonderful layout of my bathroom, the door hit me in the leg and head when E tried to open it.
"Um." Was all I said and I could hear T laughing, since the kids have done the same to her countless times.
When I got out to the kitchen E apologized for hitting me with the door and then asked me what I was doing in the bathroom when I was supposed to be working.
Haha.
Thankfully, he hadn't napped and he had spent his time fixing the seat in the car so all the kids were back in place and there was no fighting or screaming en route.
Cut to Linner.
At Grandma's house, we met up with T's sister and the kids again and all six of the little imps just went WILD. They were screaming and jumping on beds and running all through the house. We brought Willie Nelson along and whenever the kids screamed he would howl. We tried to distract them with TV, but whatever crack they put in that cotton candy must not have worked its way out of their systems yet.
Somehow, we got them all fed and I collapsed into the massage chair for some nanny recoup time.
On the way home T asked me what we should name the baby and after some serious thought I suggested Kimmy Junior. She laughed.
"We love you, and you have job security for the rest of your life, but no."
Deal.
And in that security, I shall begin my fight for more Sundays off.
And maybe more naps.
The kids have a cousin who turned five today and her party was this morning. We had to be out of the house early for the brunch party, so I got up extra early to have some quiet Sabbath time before the wild Indians had to get ready.
And wild they were.
Normally, our seating arrangement in the car is the two bigger kids in the very back, me and the babe in the middle and the parents up front, BUT the middle middle seat that normally folds down and pushes forward so R can get into her seat was broken.
T picked up her niece and nephew from school one day last week and the little monsters stuffed the magical loop that makes the seat move waaaaaaaay down inside the tiny crack it comes out of.
T spent a good fifteen minutes trying to get it back out this morning before we just headed out with R sitting between the small one and me. The forty minute trip was riddled with yells from R to be left alone and screams from the baby trying to get her toys.
Serenity now.
The party was actually really great.
In keeping with the ridiculously extravagant child birthday party theme, there was a massive layout of food upstairs and a wild kid zone in the basement. A HUGE screen TV played Beauty and the Beast in one corner and in the other corner Rapunzel was painting pictures on little girls' hands and Bobo, the hottest clown to ever live was making balloons.
Bobo had no face make up on, just wore a stupid colored outfit and beautiful blue eyes. I spent a good twenty minutes with my kids in line for balloons animals, letting every other child in the room go ahead of us so that I could keep chatting with Blue Eyes -- I mean Bobo.
Then Rapunzel did a magic show and since Tangled is one of my favorite movies of all time, I was almost as taken with her as the kids were. At the end she a real live bunny. A BUNNY!
Pizza was served to the kids, and no one threw up on me, so that was cool.
T's sister was there, too and I talked with her for a but, making a serious effort to not belittle her in my head. I did pretty well and I think I can like her since I don't have to work for her. While I was with her, Bobo was making freshly spun cotton candy.
I wasn't kidding about extravagant.
After the kids finished gorging themselves on crap and pizza-shaped crap, we headed home. J fell asleep in the car and Monkey ALMOST DID. He was nearly out when R decided to rile him up again and got herself in huge trouble.
At home, baby went to bed, J slept in the car and R got sent to her room. T barely made it into the house before hitting the couch and conking out. I followed suit and passed out on the playroom couch. We slept until it was time to go to T's mom's house for Linner.
That's right, today we ate Brunch and Linner.
And the kids were massively confused.
On the way out the door, we all made bathroom stops. After the kids had gone I went in and a moment later, thanks to the wonderful layout of my bathroom, the door hit me in the leg and head when E tried to open it.
"Um." Was all I said and I could hear T laughing, since the kids have done the same to her countless times.
When I got out to the kitchen E apologized for hitting me with the door and then asked me what I was doing in the bathroom when I was supposed to be working.
Haha.
Thankfully, he hadn't napped and he had spent his time fixing the seat in the car so all the kids were back in place and there was no fighting or screaming en route.
Cut to Linner.
At Grandma's house, we met up with T's sister and the kids again and all six of the little imps just went WILD. They were screaming and jumping on beds and running all through the house. We brought Willie Nelson along and whenever the kids screamed he would howl. We tried to distract them with TV, but whatever crack they put in that cotton candy must not have worked its way out of their systems yet.
Somehow, we got them all fed and I collapsed into the massage chair for some nanny recoup time.
On the way home T asked me what we should name the baby and after some serious thought I suggested Kimmy Junior. She laughed.
"We love you, and you have job security for the rest of your life, but no."
Deal.
And in that security, I shall begin my fight for more Sundays off.
And maybe more naps.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
What will we eat?
I could really go for a box of Girl Scout cookies right now.
Since I can't remember when my last post was, let me just fill you in on our eating habits around here.
The refrigerator gave up this week. On Monday I think. I got home Sunday night, mostly recovered, and on Monday morning when we all congregated for breakfast, the food wasn't as cold as it was supposed to be.
We ordered some coolers from T's mom and moved everything that could be frozen to the freezer and everything else into two coolers in the middle of my kitchen floor. After four days away and still not quite back to my regular energy level, we were running a camp kitchen on a filthy floor and the entire house was a dusty, dirty disaster.
T had cleaned just before I left, but with three hurricanes running through here every day it just wasn't enough to last.
On Tuesday my post-sickness appetite loss had vanished and the baby and I spent the day eating the perishables that weren't fairing so well in the coolers. I drank juice for perhaps the first time in a year and we polished off all the cheese.
Don't judge me.
On Wednesday, I tried to get back into my mostly vegan diet. Things in the refrigerator had gotten pretty stinky and so I moved the remaining produce to the garage and E and T spent the day at Home Depot, calling me to measure the opening the fridge sits in and arguing over acceptable appliances.
I had the kids that entire day and when they finally got home that night, new fridge ordered, I vanished as completely as I could manage.
Thursday morning the baby had his class and the new fridge was scheduled for delivery. Home Depot didn't show up at 7 like they said, and then not by 9 after T called to see what was going on. I emptied the condiments that had been left where food goes to die and rushed off to the library.
A scrawny woman with scrawny twins has been saying hello to Monkey lately. I've learned that she knows T and the whole family but I keep forgetting to ask her name or ask T about her. She's nice though and her kids don't do anything but cry and drool so she's left with nothing to do during the class. She smiles a lot at Monkey and she always is very chatty with me. A few of the other moms, actually, the other sprinkles of non-Jewish attendees always says hello to me and our kids play. But the Persian kids are normally stuck in their parents' arms, unable to socialize and therefore learning instead to be stand-offish and rude like the rest of Great Neck.
T keeps dreaming about moving away from here and the people like that, and as much as I would have fun living in the city, I think they were right to bring their family out to the 'burbs to be near relatives and schools and such. Tonight, after an especially long day here, she asked if we were all ready to go back to the city with her. I told her I'd go, but she'd need to hire a sitter because I would be out clubbing.
I invited her to come along, so E will be watching the kids should we ever pack up and go.
Anyway, we got through his class and T texted to say that the delivery men had come, had had to remove the kitchen door AND FRAME to get the beastly new fridge inside, but that it was there and would I please wipe it down and organize it my way.
We started our walk home, one of my favorite parts of taking Monkey out, when who should we meet on the road? E's psychotic mother!
Imagine my pleasure at seeing her car pull over and her panicked face when she saw her precious grandson wrapped up in his coat and blankets, enjoying a snack and a walk in 45 degree weather. She insisted we get in the car and no matter how much I told her we were fine, that the house was less than two minutes away ON FOOT and that it was more work to fold up the stroller and get into the car with no car seat, she would not give up. I finally threw the stroller into her trunk and got in.
Thirty seconds later we were home and she was telling me how she had gone to the library in a panic and asked them where the children were.
She played with Monkey while I threw a lunch together in the midst of piles of food and big red coolers and masses of packaging and tape and papers that had all come with the new refrigerator.
When I sat down to feed the baby she sat down too and kept playing with him so that he wouldn't eat.
Might I remind you that I had just been sick and I was still tired and I was hungry and she was screwing with my very precious schedule.
I told her he wasn't going to eat if she kept playing with him and she stopped for a second and then started again.
I said how much better he eats when no one else is around to distract him. HINT HINT HINT.
Finally I just said, "He's not going to eat if you're here. And he needs to go to bed in ten minutes."
"Oh, oh, should I go?" She finally got it. I cleared my throat and smiled.
"Well, I don't want to tell you to leave..."
She left, thanking me and praising me. Is that what she wants? To know that his schedule is my priority even if she's the one messing with me? Was she testing me?! BECAUSE I WAS IN NO MOOD FOR BEING TESTED.
It took me the rest of the day to clean up the kitchen and T's mom brought us dinner. We all spent the evening petting the shiny new stainless steel bright spot in our lives.
On Friday we realized there was no food in it.
After emptying the contents of the coolers we were left with condiments, pickles, vegan milk and a whole lot of soy sauce. Also, soy sauce doesn't need to be refrigerated, just so we're clear.
My entire diet has consisted of weird odds and ends this week. The baby is living off of tofu and what's left of our yogurt supply. The kids have cleaned us out of pretzels and chocolate, neither of which were in the fridge, but there it's not like there's anything in there so they stick to the basics.
Friday we suffered through Shabbat dinner at Mom E's house.
The only silver lining for the evening was that Hot Cousin or Nephew or Something was there with his perfect blue eyes and I got to talk to him.
No, wait, there was another moment of joy.
I had taken the kids into the little playroom there to color toward the end of the evening when they were tired and starting to fall apart. I had already fallen apart and I was playing on my phone while they colored quietly. E's nieces who I can't stand came into the room and sat down to color with the kids.
All was well for a few minutes until these girls, these grown adults, started fighting with the kids over which pages to color, which colors to use and which brand of broken twelve year old crayons to use.
The two older kids held their own and got their way against their cousins, but the poor baby had to fight a little harder. He doesn't even color; he's developed some OCD tendencies from hanging out with me. He sits nearby and picks up crayons as the kids put them down and puts them back into the bag they go in. He counts while he does it, just to appear REALLY crazy. He was happily cleaning and counting when one of his big cousins tried to take a crayon from him and get him to color.
He hit her in the face and then shot a glare at her. She gasped in shock and then looked at me.
"If you don't give the crayon back he's going to bite you next." I warned, but too late. As I spoke he leaned over and bit her.
"How did you know?!" She shrieked.
"He doesn't like to be screwed with." I pointed, still trying to warn, but she didn't act quickly enough.
He began beating her head with his fists and when I didn't move to stop him he got more aggressive. Finally, she gave him his crayon and I laughed and told her she and her sister were more trouble than the kids.
Her sister spent the entire time they were there coloring and telling the kids how poorly they colored and screeching, "Cute-acious!" about everything the kids said or did.
Color me annoyed.
When E said it was time to go I zipped through the house getting coats on everyone and hurried them all out the door. Mom E thanked me and kissed me and praised me the whole way out.
She is so lucky she loves me.
Today it dawned on me that no cleaning lady has come in two weeks so I manned up and cleaned the bathrooms while everyone was out this morning. The day passed quickly and yet tonight thinking back it all feels so long.
No one grocery shopped until evening so I threw together a hodgepodge chicken pot pie and E sat around crying all day about how sick he still is. Men are such crybabies. T's cousin came by to pick something up and mocked him for a bit. I like her.
We got through dinner and then E insisted he needed some ginger ale to settle his stomach so he and T went for a trip to the store while I finished up with the kids and their dinners.
We were down the veggies in the pie; everyone had eaten chicken and bread. R ate all her carrots and everything was golden. Only J was left. He tasted a carrot and didn't like it. I let him spit it out. He tasted a green bean and thought about it for a minute.
"I like it!" He was surprised, but he said it and he swallowed it.
"Ok," I was about to strike a deal. When J eats vegetables, it's best not to push it. "If you eat two more bites you can have dessert."
"Ice cream?"
"Yep."
"Ok!" Bright, happy, smiling. He put bite number two in his mouth and beamed at me. Stood up. Smile faded.
"What? Chew, J, chew. Have a drink."
"Ok." Drink. Sat on my lap. THANK GOODNESS, because it pointed his mouth the other direction. "My belly hurts." And then the vomit came.
He didn't just lose his dinner, he lost everything he had ingested for five hours before. Bread sticks, apples, yogurt, chicken and pie biscuits all came out in waves. He tried to catch it and it went all over his arms and feet and my legs. The floor, the couch, the table legs...
I told him not to move and herded the other two out of the room.
I started to gag and my stomach turned and I screamed at the dog to get the heck out of the room before something bad happened to him.
I opened a window and got a roll of paper towels and just started to cover the mess all over the room.
I had to leave poor J standing there in it so that I could catch my breath and not add to the grossness. I lit a scented candle before proceeding.
Once that was over I figured the night couldn't get any worse. J asked for ice cream while still covered in puke, so I don't know what horrible thing happened in his stomach but he seems fine now.
E and T came back and I tortured T with the story of what had just happened. She laughed and thanked me for taking care of it and expressed her relief at not having been here.
After all of that, none of the adults were very hungry for chicken pot pie so I put it away and we ate eggs.
We put all the kids to bed and that's when I decided to gather my things and hit the hay early. T had left my week's pay on the counter and I went to collect; a full week's pay even though I had been out sick. Our agreement when I started was that I wouldn't take paid sick days. Most of the time we all have our sick days together and I still contribute some sort of child care but this had been different and I had actually done nothing for two whole days and used up all their DayQuil.
Before going to my room I asked her if she realized she had paid me for those extra days. She shook her head and waved the thought away.
"Don't worry about it. I think you'll make it up." And she gestured to the puke room, which no one but the dog will go into right now.
I laughed and thanked her.
Puke and all, I have the best job in the world.
AND, now we even have groceries.
Since I can't remember when my last post was, let me just fill you in on our eating habits around here.
The refrigerator gave up this week. On Monday I think. I got home Sunday night, mostly recovered, and on Monday morning when we all congregated for breakfast, the food wasn't as cold as it was supposed to be.
We ordered some coolers from T's mom and moved everything that could be frozen to the freezer and everything else into two coolers in the middle of my kitchen floor. After four days away and still not quite back to my regular energy level, we were running a camp kitchen on a filthy floor and the entire house was a dusty, dirty disaster.
T had cleaned just before I left, but with three hurricanes running through here every day it just wasn't enough to last.
On Tuesday my post-sickness appetite loss had vanished and the baby and I spent the day eating the perishables that weren't fairing so well in the coolers. I drank juice for perhaps the first time in a year and we polished off all the cheese.
Don't judge me.
On Wednesday, I tried to get back into my mostly vegan diet. Things in the refrigerator had gotten pretty stinky and so I moved the remaining produce to the garage and E and T spent the day at Home Depot, calling me to measure the opening the fridge sits in and arguing over acceptable appliances.
I had the kids that entire day and when they finally got home that night, new fridge ordered, I vanished as completely as I could manage.
Thursday morning the baby had his class and the new fridge was scheduled for delivery. Home Depot didn't show up at 7 like they said, and then not by 9 after T called to see what was going on. I emptied the condiments that had been left where food goes to die and rushed off to the library.
A scrawny woman with scrawny twins has been saying hello to Monkey lately. I've learned that she knows T and the whole family but I keep forgetting to ask her name or ask T about her. She's nice though and her kids don't do anything but cry and drool so she's left with nothing to do during the class. She smiles a lot at Monkey and she always is very chatty with me. A few of the other moms, actually, the other sprinkles of non-Jewish attendees always says hello to me and our kids play. But the Persian kids are normally stuck in their parents' arms, unable to socialize and therefore learning instead to be stand-offish and rude like the rest of Great Neck.
T keeps dreaming about moving away from here and the people like that, and as much as I would have fun living in the city, I think they were right to bring their family out to the 'burbs to be near relatives and schools and such. Tonight, after an especially long day here, she asked if we were all ready to go back to the city with her. I told her I'd go, but she'd need to hire a sitter because I would be out clubbing.
I invited her to come along, so E will be watching the kids should we ever pack up and go.
Anyway, we got through his class and T texted to say that the delivery men had come, had had to remove the kitchen door AND FRAME to get the beastly new fridge inside, but that it was there and would I please wipe it down and organize it my way.
We started our walk home, one of my favorite parts of taking Monkey out, when who should we meet on the road? E's psychotic mother!
Imagine my pleasure at seeing her car pull over and her panicked face when she saw her precious grandson wrapped up in his coat and blankets, enjoying a snack and a walk in 45 degree weather. She insisted we get in the car and no matter how much I told her we were fine, that the house was less than two minutes away ON FOOT and that it was more work to fold up the stroller and get into the car with no car seat, she would not give up. I finally threw the stroller into her trunk and got in.
Thirty seconds later we were home and she was telling me how she had gone to the library in a panic and asked them where the children were.
She played with Monkey while I threw a lunch together in the midst of piles of food and big red coolers and masses of packaging and tape and papers that had all come with the new refrigerator.
When I sat down to feed the baby she sat down too and kept playing with him so that he wouldn't eat.
Might I remind you that I had just been sick and I was still tired and I was hungry and she was screwing with my very precious schedule.
I told her he wasn't going to eat if she kept playing with him and she stopped for a second and then started again.
I said how much better he eats when no one else is around to distract him. HINT HINT HINT.
Finally I just said, "He's not going to eat if you're here. And he needs to go to bed in ten minutes."
"Oh, oh, should I go?" She finally got it. I cleared my throat and smiled.
"Well, I don't want to tell you to leave..."
She left, thanking me and praising me. Is that what she wants? To know that his schedule is my priority even if she's the one messing with me? Was she testing me?! BECAUSE I WAS IN NO MOOD FOR BEING TESTED.
It took me the rest of the day to clean up the kitchen and T's mom brought us dinner. We all spent the evening petting the shiny new stainless steel bright spot in our lives.
On Friday we realized there was no food in it.
After emptying the contents of the coolers we were left with condiments, pickles, vegan milk and a whole lot of soy sauce. Also, soy sauce doesn't need to be refrigerated, just so we're clear.
My entire diet has consisted of weird odds and ends this week. The baby is living off of tofu and what's left of our yogurt supply. The kids have cleaned us out of pretzels and chocolate, neither of which were in the fridge, but there it's not like there's anything in there so they stick to the basics.
Friday we suffered through Shabbat dinner at Mom E's house.
The only silver lining for the evening was that Hot Cousin or Nephew or Something was there with his perfect blue eyes and I got to talk to him.
No, wait, there was another moment of joy.
I had taken the kids into the little playroom there to color toward the end of the evening when they were tired and starting to fall apart. I had already fallen apart and I was playing on my phone while they colored quietly. E's nieces who I can't stand came into the room and sat down to color with the kids.
All was well for a few minutes until these girls, these grown adults, started fighting with the kids over which pages to color, which colors to use and which brand of broken twelve year old crayons to use.
The two older kids held their own and got their way against their cousins, but the poor baby had to fight a little harder. He doesn't even color; he's developed some OCD tendencies from hanging out with me. He sits nearby and picks up crayons as the kids put them down and puts them back into the bag they go in. He counts while he does it, just to appear REALLY crazy. He was happily cleaning and counting when one of his big cousins tried to take a crayon from him and get him to color.
He hit her in the face and then shot a glare at her. She gasped in shock and then looked at me.
"If you don't give the crayon back he's going to bite you next." I warned, but too late. As I spoke he leaned over and bit her.
"How did you know?!" She shrieked.
"He doesn't like to be screwed with." I pointed, still trying to warn, but she didn't act quickly enough.
He began beating her head with his fists and when I didn't move to stop him he got more aggressive. Finally, she gave him his crayon and I laughed and told her she and her sister were more trouble than the kids.
Her sister spent the entire time they were there coloring and telling the kids how poorly they colored and screeching, "Cute-acious!" about everything the kids said or did.
Color me annoyed.
When E said it was time to go I zipped through the house getting coats on everyone and hurried them all out the door. Mom E thanked me and kissed me and praised me the whole way out.
She is so lucky she loves me.
Today it dawned on me that no cleaning lady has come in two weeks so I manned up and cleaned the bathrooms while everyone was out this morning. The day passed quickly and yet tonight thinking back it all feels so long.
No one grocery shopped until evening so I threw together a hodgepodge chicken pot pie and E sat around crying all day about how sick he still is. Men are such crybabies. T's cousin came by to pick something up and mocked him for a bit. I like her.
We got through dinner and then E insisted he needed some ginger ale to settle his stomach so he and T went for a trip to the store while I finished up with the kids and their dinners.
We were down the veggies in the pie; everyone had eaten chicken and bread. R ate all her carrots and everything was golden. Only J was left. He tasted a carrot and didn't like it. I let him spit it out. He tasted a green bean and thought about it for a minute.
"I like it!" He was surprised, but he said it and he swallowed it.
"Ok," I was about to strike a deal. When J eats vegetables, it's best not to push it. "If you eat two more bites you can have dessert."
"Ice cream?"
"Yep."
"Ok!" Bright, happy, smiling. He put bite number two in his mouth and beamed at me. Stood up. Smile faded.
"What? Chew, J, chew. Have a drink."
"Ok." Drink. Sat on my lap. THANK GOODNESS, because it pointed his mouth the other direction. "My belly hurts." And then the vomit came.
He didn't just lose his dinner, he lost everything he had ingested for five hours before. Bread sticks, apples, yogurt, chicken and pie biscuits all came out in waves. He tried to catch it and it went all over his arms and feet and my legs. The floor, the couch, the table legs...
I told him not to move and herded the other two out of the room.
I started to gag and my stomach turned and I screamed at the dog to get the heck out of the room before something bad happened to him.
I opened a window and got a roll of paper towels and just started to cover the mess all over the room.
I had to leave poor J standing there in it so that I could catch my breath and not add to the grossness. I lit a scented candle before proceeding.
Once that was over I figured the night couldn't get any worse. J asked for ice cream while still covered in puke, so I don't know what horrible thing happened in his stomach but he seems fine now.
E and T came back and I tortured T with the story of what had just happened. She laughed and thanked me for taking care of it and expressed her relief at not having been here.
After all of that, none of the adults were very hungry for chicken pot pie so I put it away and we ate eggs.
We put all the kids to bed and that's when I decided to gather my things and hit the hay early. T had left my week's pay on the counter and I went to collect; a full week's pay even though I had been out sick. Our agreement when I started was that I wouldn't take paid sick days. Most of the time we all have our sick days together and I still contribute some sort of child care but this had been different and I had actually done nothing for two whole days and used up all their DayQuil.
Before going to my room I asked her if she realized she had paid me for those extra days. She shook her head and waved the thought away.
"Don't worry about it. I think you'll make it up." And she gestured to the puke room, which no one but the dog will go into right now.
I laughed and thanked her.
Puke and all, I have the best job in the world.
AND, now we even have groceries.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)