Canning/freezing season has finally begun in our household! In order to keep the momentum, and still keep up with the upcoming vacation and ten million other plans, we are going to have to keep to a very strict picking and canning schedule around here.
We began with peas and raspberries this weekend. This was actually suggested by Bearded Man, and seemed like a good idea. So, packing our four kids, plus a spare kid (Lexi's friend who spent most of the weekend with us) we were off.
Let me stop right here. We need to backtrack just a tiny bit. We need to discuss Facebook. My little sister, who is having the worse luck in the entire world right now, was mournfully talking about how awful things were compared to looking to see what her friend's Facebook posts were like. It only made her MORE depressed, to see these perfect people, with perfect lives, and no problems, as they smiled into the camera during yet another fun filled perfect family trip/or whatever the prefect family happens to be doing.
I told her it's generally NOT real. I COULD have been "that" mom. I COULD have lined all my happy kids up (plus the spare kid) in front of the beautiful fields full of bountiful goodness, in the summer sunshine. I COULD have snapped the picture and posted it with caption and fourteen hashtags. "Berry Picking!" #Summer #eatingright #bountifulgoodness #countryliving #prepingforwinter. yada yada yada.
What REALLY happened was: The kids fought for approximately half an hour before we left, over who was going to sit where in the van. After they settled on a place for everyone, the threats, barbs, insults and snide comments commenced on the way to the berry patch. Bearded Man announced he hates picking peas, and decided to pick raspberries instead. He took Lexi, her friend, and George up to the berry patch. I took Kaila and Joe to the pea patch.
Within minutes, we were sweaty. Our legs and backs hurt, from bending over to dig for peas. Kaila could not possibly pick many peas, because there were pricker plants around her row. Joe was disgusted with the entire process, and announced there must be a more efficient way to do this miserable job, and why wasn't there an invention for this yet?
Lexi, her friend and George came down from the berry patch, and Kaila and Joe went up to trade spots. Everyone hated the entire process. George ended up in the van. Followed by everyone else. Joe went to the roadside stand to sing his tale of miserable woe to the owner of the farm.
Bearded Man finally came down with his berries. Half a box. I was informed there were more, but he had probably eaten about half of them.
Memories and stuff. We took the kids home, fed them, and went swimming.
By Saturday evening, about 4 million pounds of peas were shelled and in the freezer, and by noon on Sunday, 12 small jars of raspberry jam was made.
Lexi's friend was still with us, and asked to help too. She was SO impressed. "Wow. You are the coolest mom! I wish MY mom did this kind of thing! What else are you going to do?" So, all excited I said we were going to do MORE raspberries, try to get the fall strawberries, do blueberries, corn, green beans and peaches. And, if I could get over my fear of the pressure cooker, tomatoes. Also, we had ordered a pig for late fall.
"A PIG???!!!! TO EAT??? Right now, there is a poor little pig that is alive and happy and doesn't know you are going to KILL it and EAT it???" She accused me in horror.
"Well, I am not going to kill it. Someone ELSE is! We won't even see poor little Wilbur alive!"
"WILBUR??? You NAMED IT?????!!!!!!" She gasped.
"Mom" said Lexi tearfully, "You know I just decided this summer that pigs are my favorite animal. I cannot eat pig."
"Lexi. you just ate HAM for dinner last night."
Lexi and her now unimpressed friend proceeded to leave the kitchen in righteous indignation.
In preparation for Wilbur, we went and looked at larger freezers this weekend. Where there may have been startled sales persons, as Bearded Man announced (loudly) that chest freezers could be great for bodies. The upright freezers would be more work, as one would have to cut them up first. (If I am ever missing, please check my freezer, okay?)
Anyhow. It is now Monday again, and, it's a relief to leave the chores at home and come to the relative break of work.
I should mention that Joe did indeed survive Scout Camp. We arrived to find him covered head to foot in bug bites, and his voice hoarse from all the shouting Scouts are supposed to do. He was exhausted and ready to come home, but, once again had a wonderful week at Scout Camp.
"Mom." he confessed, "You know how you just bought me a new Scout Shirt last week for camp?"
"yes"
"I think I might have lost it my first day here. I think it may be over by Sports somewhere. Not sure."
"UUUGGHH. Okay. It's okay Joe. We'll get you a new one."
"My stomach was literally quite sick about it."
"It's all good Kiddo. I only beat people on Tuesdays, so, you're fine."
The shirt, by the way, was found exactly where he pretty much left it, and he can't wait to go again next year.
Bearded Man bought himself a boat this weekend.
He has wanted a small fishing boat for some time now, and, on the premise of going to the Vet to pick up a prescription for the dogs, left Saturday morning, and came home with a small boat. That he just "happened" to stumble across. It was practically throwing itself at him. He was going to name it "Little Dinghy" but, I like "I Can't Swim" better, so, the name of the boat is up in the air at this point. I want to be on the bank of Case Lake watching, the first time he takes it out. He's been riveting and caulking it all weekend.
Anyhow, that's all the excitement here. This week, I am determined to go blueberry picking, to keep on my self imposed canning/freezing schedule. I can only imagine the horrors my children will perceive this to be. builds character and all that.
Monday, July 27, 2015
Thursday, July 23, 2015
No Bible For You!
As all things in my poor Little Sister's life, nothing is without complications. Purchasing a vehicle was not complication free. To be fair; is purchasing a vehicle EVER complication free?
Anyhow, as per the last post, my sister's vehicle was totaled in an auto accident on her way to my house, and she was in need of a new one.
Our brother, Ben, aided Brianna in her quest, taking her to a small local dealership that advertises "SoandSo's Used Autos and Bible Counseling" where Bri acquired a used Nissan Rogue. Which may or may not be brown, grey, or, purple, depending on which light it is viewed in.
Ben had utilized this dealership several times over the years, and had always had good interactions with no issues with either the dealership or the vehicles he purchased.
Last evening, I went to visit my sister. The following conversation took place, as we sat in her garage staring at the new vehicle, before dropping it off at the dealership for yet MORE work on it:
Bri: "You know what Ben told me?"
Me: "What?"
Bri; " He said that everyone who buys a car from the "Used Auto Dealership and Bible Counseling" place, gets a bible in the glove box."
Me: "WHAT?"
Bri "No! Really!"
Me "I didn't know that."
Bri "Well. I didn't get a bible. And, I had the WORST experience. They wouldn't even do the car registration paperwork. They handed it to me and were really rude and told me to take all the papers to the DMV and do it myself!"
Me: 'HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! YOU DIDN'T GET A BIBLE???"
Bri: "NO! And, they said that they had worked on the brakes and done an oil change and all this stuff - and they DIDN'T! AND, I didn't get a bible! Why didn't I get a bible?"
Me: "I don't know."
Bri: "When I took the car there for an oil change, I heard 'Everybody should read the bible!!!!!' and then everybody dropped everything, whipped out bibles, and started reading and discussing their bibles! I was over here like 'ummmm, could we maybe wait till AFTER my oil is changed...?'"
Me: "WAIT. WHAT??? They just stopped and read their bibles?!"
Bri: "YES! Like, all random! EVERYBODY in the whole place that worked there!"
Me: "I've never heard anything like it."
Bri: "Ben had a theory, when I told him there was no bible. Oh! I didn't get an owner's manual, either. So, now I have to Google everything I need to know about my car... Anyway, Ben had a theory."
Me: "Oh boy. What?"
Bri "He said that I came to the dealer ship dressed all in black, because that's what I have to wear for work, wearing makeup and my piercings, and my hair dyed, and they probably figured I was too far gone to need a bible."
Me: "HAHAHAHAHA!!!! Well. Actually, that makes THEM bad, not you. Why would you only give bibles to people that seem like they are decent. If anything, if a person is judging another person on how they present, and figures them too far gone, when, if they are all judgy to begin with, then, THOSE are the people that need them the MOST, then, that makes THEM bad, not you."
Bri: "Well. I don't know. I would have been pretty happy if I just could have gotten an owner's manual."
Me: "HAHAHAHA!!!! No bible for YOU!"
Bri: "Maybe they just ran out, or don't give them out anymore?"
Anyhow, my poor (bible-less) sister is without her vehicle once again, as it is off getting fixed again.
Speaking of all things holy and not: The neighbor kid and George have discovered a "Monster Cat" the neighbor kid, Carter, demonstrates Monster Cat every time he talks about it, by twisting his head as far around as possible. Because, apparently, Monster Cat has creepy eyes, and can spin it's head all the way around. Monster Cat simultaneously terrifies and fascinates both George and his buddy, Carter.
Also, Sunday School begins in just over a month. I have yet to form one single lesson plan. Also, it will consist of 7th AND 8th grades this year.
Back to George for a moment here: He is in his glory while Joe is away at Scout Camp. Only last night, George and his buddy Carter were on the porch having a snack.
"I think I will sleep in Joe's bed again tonight. He's gonna be SO. MAD. when he comes back and finds out I slept in his bed all week!"
"He's still gone, George? Let's go upstairs and jump on it!!!!"
"OKAY!!!!"
"Maybe we can get him to stay at Scouts for one extra sleep!"
"Mom? Can you leave him there longer?"
"No, George."
Also this summer, my five year old, in addition to the ability to jump his bike over ramps for the last 2 years, is now able to coast while standing on the cross bar, is able to coast while standing on one peddle, to the side of the bike with both feet, and, is currently learning how to ride with no hands. Further: It is almost impossible for anyone in the family to keep up with him on a bike.
I would also like to mention that: it is nearing the end of July, and I have yet to can or freeze one single item. Not one. It isn't looking hopeful, either.
I haven't received any phone calls to the otherwise, so, presumably Joe has survived Scout Camp yet again. We get to go pick him up tonight. I can't wait to hear the stories!
Back to work! Till next time!
Anyhow, as per the last post, my sister's vehicle was totaled in an auto accident on her way to my house, and she was in need of a new one.
Our brother, Ben, aided Brianna in her quest, taking her to a small local dealership that advertises "SoandSo's Used Autos and Bible Counseling" where Bri acquired a used Nissan Rogue. Which may or may not be brown, grey, or, purple, depending on which light it is viewed in.
Ben had utilized this dealership several times over the years, and had always had good interactions with no issues with either the dealership or the vehicles he purchased.
Last evening, I went to visit my sister. The following conversation took place, as we sat in her garage staring at the new vehicle, before dropping it off at the dealership for yet MORE work on it:
Bri: "You know what Ben told me?"
Me: "What?"
Bri; " He said that everyone who buys a car from the "Used Auto Dealership and Bible Counseling" place, gets a bible in the glove box."
Me: "WHAT?"
Bri "No! Really!"
Me "I didn't know that."
Bri "Well. I didn't get a bible. And, I had the WORST experience. They wouldn't even do the car registration paperwork. They handed it to me and were really rude and told me to take all the papers to the DMV and do it myself!"
Me: 'HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! YOU DIDN'T GET A BIBLE???"
Bri: "NO! And, they said that they had worked on the brakes and done an oil change and all this stuff - and they DIDN'T! AND, I didn't get a bible! Why didn't I get a bible?"
Me: "I don't know."
Bri: "When I took the car there for an oil change, I heard 'Everybody should read the bible!!!!!' and then everybody dropped everything, whipped out bibles, and started reading and discussing their bibles! I was over here like 'ummmm, could we maybe wait till AFTER my oil is changed...?'"
Me: "WAIT. WHAT??? They just stopped and read their bibles?!"
Bri: "YES! Like, all random! EVERYBODY in the whole place that worked there!"
Me: "I've never heard anything like it."
Bri: "Ben had a theory, when I told him there was no bible. Oh! I didn't get an owner's manual, either. So, now I have to Google everything I need to know about my car... Anyway, Ben had a theory."
Me: "Oh boy. What?"
Bri "He said that I came to the dealer ship dressed all in black, because that's what I have to wear for work, wearing makeup and my piercings, and my hair dyed, and they probably figured I was too far gone to need a bible."
Me: "HAHAHAHAHA!!!! Well. Actually, that makes THEM bad, not you. Why would you only give bibles to people that seem like they are decent. If anything, if a person is judging another person on how they present, and figures them too far gone, when, if they are all judgy to begin with, then, THOSE are the people that need them the MOST, then, that makes THEM bad, not you."
Bri: "Well. I don't know. I would have been pretty happy if I just could have gotten an owner's manual."
Me: "HAHAHAHA!!!! No bible for YOU!"
Bri: "Maybe they just ran out, or don't give them out anymore?"
Anyhow, my poor (bible-less) sister is without her vehicle once again, as it is off getting fixed again.
Speaking of all things holy and not: The neighbor kid and George have discovered a "Monster Cat" the neighbor kid, Carter, demonstrates Monster Cat every time he talks about it, by twisting his head as far around as possible. Because, apparently, Monster Cat has creepy eyes, and can spin it's head all the way around. Monster Cat simultaneously terrifies and fascinates both George and his buddy, Carter.
Also, Sunday School begins in just over a month. I have yet to form one single lesson plan. Also, it will consist of 7th AND 8th grades this year.
Back to George for a moment here: He is in his glory while Joe is away at Scout Camp. Only last night, George and his buddy Carter were on the porch having a snack.
"I think I will sleep in Joe's bed again tonight. He's gonna be SO. MAD. when he comes back and finds out I slept in his bed all week!"
"He's still gone, George? Let's go upstairs and jump on it!!!!"
"OKAY!!!!"
"Maybe we can get him to stay at Scouts for one extra sleep!"
"Mom? Can you leave him there longer?"
"No, George."
Also this summer, my five year old, in addition to the ability to jump his bike over ramps for the last 2 years, is now able to coast while standing on the cross bar, is able to coast while standing on one peddle, to the side of the bike with both feet, and, is currently learning how to ride with no hands. Further: It is almost impossible for anyone in the family to keep up with him on a bike.
I would also like to mention that: it is nearing the end of July, and I have yet to can or freeze one single item. Not one. It isn't looking hopeful, either.
I haven't received any phone calls to the otherwise, so, presumably Joe has survived Scout Camp yet again. We get to go pick him up tonight. I can't wait to hear the stories!
Back to work! Till next time!
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Arguing With The Minivan
The minivan and I continue to get to know each other. It's been forced, really, because it seems as if we are always together, hurtling toward the next destination. Also, there are lots of upcoming road trips, so, we really need to get along.
This past weekend alone saw hours of driving, for two very different weddings, in two very different locations, each approximately two hours from home, and in opposite directions.
Thus far, it drives like a champ, and continues to contain everything we need to haul along with us conveniently, while fitting the kids in relative comfort. Once they finish arguing over who gets to sit in the middle row. Also, it was recently used for a target, as George figured out how to fling things with a spoon, and proceeded to practice, by covering the entire driver's side of poor Huckleberry in mud. A thing I did not realize, until I was getting ready to run to the store for last minute 4th of July items. I screeched to a halt next to my van in amazement. And correctly assumed which kid was responsible. A side trip to the car wash found me standing behind a guy at the change machine, waiting my turn.
"Wow, Lady! You go mudding in that thing?"
"I have no idea what happened to it. My kid is responsible."
"Teenagers. I feel for ya. Looks like they had a good time. No respect these days."
"He's FIVE."
"Wow. Good luck with that."
*Sigh.*
Anyway, flinging mud with a spoon soon became flinging pebbles with a spoon, which became teaching Joe how to do it, which became Joe teaching his cousin how to do it, which became my sister's shattered back car window, as a pebble hit it just right on a hot day with the windows up. My sister's car evidently was not impressed, and was actually totaled a week later, as she was headed to my house. I'm not saying her car DELIBERATELY totaled itself, so that it didn't have to be at my house ever again, but.....
Back to poor Huckleberry. The van was scrubbed off, and even vacuumed out, and seems to be relatively okay. Except, it has this Bluetooth phone feature. In which I push this magic button on the steering wheel and this pleasant voice tells me it is ready for phone calls. (Side note here. I am an LPN TCT - Telehealth Clinical Technician. My JOB is to handle all things computer and technical. My neighbor set this up for me...) Anyhow, magic button, pleasant voice, etc. I can command it to call whomever I want. And usually, we are in a good mood, and it repeats the name, and then calls it. Seriously. My kids think it's the most amazing thing EVER.
Sometimes, though, I am pretty sure the van is in a bad mood. "Please say a command!" it will say.
"Call Lexi."
"Call 90?"
"No. Call LEXI"
"Call 8097?"
"HAHAHAHA! NO! CALL. LLLEEEEXXXIIII!"
"Call Bri?"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! NO! PLEASE! Call LHEXSEE"
"Call 47152?"
"Never mind."
Normally, it's all pretty funny, and we have all laugh over it. Except yesterday. Evidently, the van and I were both in a bad mood at the same time. I was late leavening work, had a splitting headache, and was late getting the boys to their baseball award ceremony.
"Please say a command!"
"Call Kaila."
"Call The Law?
"No. Call Kaila."
"Call 7624?"
"No! Call Kaila!"
"Call Wendy Brown?"
"NO! PLEASE! CALL KAILA."
"Call 90?"
"NO DAMMIT!!! CALL. KAILA NOW!!!!!!!!"
"Call Mom?"
"NO! DON'T CALL MY MOM! CALL MY KID!!! CALL KAILA!!!!!!'
"Call 42?"
"I SWEAR TO GOODNESS YOU NEED TO KNOCK IT OFF AND CALL KAILA RIGHT. NOW!!!!!!!!!"
"Call Jasin?"
"I hate you. You know it, don't you."
And, it hung up and stopped talking.
"FINE. MAKE me break the law! I will CALL Kaila FROM MY PHONE, and it will go strait to you, and you will HAVE to play it thru the speakers! HA!" ...... "OMG. I am arguing with my vehicle. And I think it won."
Anyhow. The boys got to their award ceremony - Bearded Man, alerted to my bad mood, took them, and I took a nap.
I think the next big adventure in the van will be to the Color Run 5k in Buffalo in only a few short weeks. Which I have not trained for. At all. Between the cold I had for a month, and the rain, and sleep; I haven't walked much at all. Let alone run anyplace. I really need to get back to work on this whole moving thing. I am in no shape currently, to hike up those mountains in October. I have a patient who has all these medical problems, and is trying to become a member of the "46 Peaks" Club; people who have hiked up all 46 Adirondack peaks. He and his wife come in all the time, to ask how I am doing with the training. And then laugh at me. Ah well. We'll worry about it in October.
Speaking of people laughing. I got another pedicure the other day. I totally treated myself to a mani/pedi before all the weddings of last weekend. The nail place is seriously across the road from where I work. However, the entire street is closed and torn up, due to construction, so, getting across the street takes some serious planning and time. I was 5 minutes late. I was waved irritably toward a pedi chair, where I hopped up and looked around. Confident women everywhere, on their phones, looking like they knew what they were doing, and completely ignoring the people working on them. I don't know what the proper protocol is. Do you talk? Do you not talk? Do you watch? Do you not watch? Do you play with the buttons for the massage chair, or don't you, because, if you don't have any idea how it works, then you just look like an idiot. "Moriah. You will NOT apologize for gardening in your bare feet. You. Will. NOT!" Was the mantra going thru my head, while I sat there uncomfortably, wondering what I was supposed to do while another human was doing wonderful things to my feet.
"I am so sorry. I garden in my bare feet. I am sorry. Ummm." To the confused look of the man at my feet. "Anyway. Ummm. Sorry."
"You want design on toes? Flowers?"
"YES! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!" Followed by rapid Chinese and mutual laughter with the co worker next to him.
While I was there, another lady came in, and ended up in the chair next to mine. "I want a pedi. A FULL one. With the wraps and scrubs and towels." Stuck her feet in the tub, and began to play with the massage chair buttons. And it went terribly wrong, and she began to get bumped up and down, jiggling all over, her feet splashing in the tub, while pretending none of this was happening, as she frantically tried to stop it. I was SO relieved I skipped the massage chair buttons.
An hour and a half later, I was finished. My nails were perfect, and I left a really nice tip.
As far as canning and freezing things: Nothing has happened. I missed strawberry season, and I am this close to missing pea season. Every weekend is just so jam packed, that the time to do all this just isn't there. This is me: wanting canned and frozen awesomeness, and not particularly caring that I haven't done it. So sad.
This upcoming week, Joe will be at Scout Camp. It is supposed to rain nearly every day. Either Joe will love every manly minute of it, or, he will accuse me of hating him. It could go either way, really.
Joe came storming home from the neighbor's the other evening just stewing. "Mom. I just got FIRED! By TWO FIVE year olds! AND called names! All because I told them they need to lower the prices on their rocks!"
"WHAT?" (Side note. I had to get a professional mani/pedi, because my kids, and the neighbor kids, have spend the entire summer using my nail polish to paint rocks.)
"They are taking rocks, putting approximately three dabs of nail polish on them, and trying to sell them for too high prices. The cheapest is a tiny stone for TEN DOLLARS! And, they have a chunk of concrete for ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry, Joe."
"Fine. I am going to paint MORE rocks, and sell them cheaper, and make MORE money, because they won't sell ANY!"
To date, no rocks have actually been sold...
Also, my new front garden is really filling in. I had planted lots and lots of bulbs, flowers and roots, and things are growing. Including pumpkins. Mother's Day weekend, I stopped at one of my favorite green houses, along with some of the kids. The kids were taken to this sweet little area, to plant flowers and seeds for their Mamas. George chose pumpkins as his seeds, and, planted three of them. And then proceeded to take EXCELLENT care of them in their little cup. And they SPROUTED. So, he planted them. Right in my new front garden. He was so very proud of himself. And, they are taking off beautifully. I grin every single time I see them, poking underneath the Black Eyed Susans.
That is the summer at our house to date. It's only going to get busier!
"
This past weekend alone saw hours of driving, for two very different weddings, in two very different locations, each approximately two hours from home, and in opposite directions.
Thus far, it drives like a champ, and continues to contain everything we need to haul along with us conveniently, while fitting the kids in relative comfort. Once they finish arguing over who gets to sit in the middle row. Also, it was recently used for a target, as George figured out how to fling things with a spoon, and proceeded to practice, by covering the entire driver's side of poor Huckleberry in mud. A thing I did not realize, until I was getting ready to run to the store for last minute 4th of July items. I screeched to a halt next to my van in amazement. And correctly assumed which kid was responsible. A side trip to the car wash found me standing behind a guy at the change machine, waiting my turn.
"Wow, Lady! You go mudding in that thing?"
"I have no idea what happened to it. My kid is responsible."
"Teenagers. I feel for ya. Looks like they had a good time. No respect these days."
"He's FIVE."
"Wow. Good luck with that."
*Sigh.*
Anyway, flinging mud with a spoon soon became flinging pebbles with a spoon, which became teaching Joe how to do it, which became Joe teaching his cousin how to do it, which became my sister's shattered back car window, as a pebble hit it just right on a hot day with the windows up. My sister's car evidently was not impressed, and was actually totaled a week later, as she was headed to my house. I'm not saying her car DELIBERATELY totaled itself, so that it didn't have to be at my house ever again, but.....
Back to poor Huckleberry. The van was scrubbed off, and even vacuumed out, and seems to be relatively okay. Except, it has this Bluetooth phone feature. In which I push this magic button on the steering wheel and this pleasant voice tells me it is ready for phone calls. (Side note here. I am an LPN TCT - Telehealth Clinical Technician. My JOB is to handle all things computer and technical. My neighbor set this up for me...) Anyhow, magic button, pleasant voice, etc. I can command it to call whomever I want. And usually, we are in a good mood, and it repeats the name, and then calls it. Seriously. My kids think it's the most amazing thing EVER.
Sometimes, though, I am pretty sure the van is in a bad mood. "Please say a command!" it will say.
"Call Lexi."
"Call 90?"
"No. Call LEXI"
"Call 8097?"
"HAHAHAHA! NO! CALL. LLLEEEEXXXIIII!"
"Call Bri?"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! NO! PLEASE! Call LHEXSEE"
"Call 47152?"
"Never mind."
Normally, it's all pretty funny, and we have all laugh over it. Except yesterday. Evidently, the van and I were both in a bad mood at the same time. I was late leavening work, had a splitting headache, and was late getting the boys to their baseball award ceremony.
"Please say a command!"
"Call Kaila."
"Call The Law?
"No. Call Kaila."
"Call 7624?"
"No! Call Kaila!"
"Call Wendy Brown?"
"NO! PLEASE! CALL KAILA."
"Call 90?"
"NO DAMMIT!!! CALL. KAILA NOW!!!!!!!!"
"Call Mom?"
"NO! DON'T CALL MY MOM! CALL MY KID!!! CALL KAILA!!!!!!'
"Call 42?"
"I SWEAR TO GOODNESS YOU NEED TO KNOCK IT OFF AND CALL KAILA RIGHT. NOW!!!!!!!!!"
"Call Jasin?"
"I hate you. You know it, don't you."
And, it hung up and stopped talking.
"FINE. MAKE me break the law! I will CALL Kaila FROM MY PHONE, and it will go strait to you, and you will HAVE to play it thru the speakers! HA!" ...... "OMG. I am arguing with my vehicle. And I think it won."
Anyhow. The boys got to their award ceremony - Bearded Man, alerted to my bad mood, took them, and I took a nap.
I think the next big adventure in the van will be to the Color Run 5k in Buffalo in only a few short weeks. Which I have not trained for. At all. Between the cold I had for a month, and the rain, and sleep; I haven't walked much at all. Let alone run anyplace. I really need to get back to work on this whole moving thing. I am in no shape currently, to hike up those mountains in October. I have a patient who has all these medical problems, and is trying to become a member of the "46 Peaks" Club; people who have hiked up all 46 Adirondack peaks. He and his wife come in all the time, to ask how I am doing with the training. And then laugh at me. Ah well. We'll worry about it in October.
Speaking of people laughing. I got another pedicure the other day. I totally treated myself to a mani/pedi before all the weddings of last weekend. The nail place is seriously across the road from where I work. However, the entire street is closed and torn up, due to construction, so, getting across the street takes some serious planning and time. I was 5 minutes late. I was waved irritably toward a pedi chair, where I hopped up and looked around. Confident women everywhere, on their phones, looking like they knew what they were doing, and completely ignoring the people working on them. I don't know what the proper protocol is. Do you talk? Do you not talk? Do you watch? Do you not watch? Do you play with the buttons for the massage chair, or don't you, because, if you don't have any idea how it works, then you just look like an idiot. "Moriah. You will NOT apologize for gardening in your bare feet. You. Will. NOT!" Was the mantra going thru my head, while I sat there uncomfortably, wondering what I was supposed to do while another human was doing wonderful things to my feet.
"I am so sorry. I garden in my bare feet. I am sorry. Ummm." To the confused look of the man at my feet. "Anyway. Ummm. Sorry."
"You want design on toes? Flowers?"
"YES! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!" Followed by rapid Chinese and mutual laughter with the co worker next to him.
While I was there, another lady came in, and ended up in the chair next to mine. "I want a pedi. A FULL one. With the wraps and scrubs and towels." Stuck her feet in the tub, and began to play with the massage chair buttons. And it went terribly wrong, and she began to get bumped up and down, jiggling all over, her feet splashing in the tub, while pretending none of this was happening, as she frantically tried to stop it. I was SO relieved I skipped the massage chair buttons.
An hour and a half later, I was finished. My nails were perfect, and I left a really nice tip.
As far as canning and freezing things: Nothing has happened. I missed strawberry season, and I am this close to missing pea season. Every weekend is just so jam packed, that the time to do all this just isn't there. This is me: wanting canned and frozen awesomeness, and not particularly caring that I haven't done it. So sad.
This upcoming week, Joe will be at Scout Camp. It is supposed to rain nearly every day. Either Joe will love every manly minute of it, or, he will accuse me of hating him. It could go either way, really.
Joe came storming home from the neighbor's the other evening just stewing. "Mom. I just got FIRED! By TWO FIVE year olds! AND called names! All because I told them they need to lower the prices on their rocks!"
"WHAT?" (Side note. I had to get a professional mani/pedi, because my kids, and the neighbor kids, have spend the entire summer using my nail polish to paint rocks.)
"They are taking rocks, putting approximately three dabs of nail polish on them, and trying to sell them for too high prices. The cheapest is a tiny stone for TEN DOLLARS! And, they have a chunk of concrete for ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry, Joe."
"Fine. I am going to paint MORE rocks, and sell them cheaper, and make MORE money, because they won't sell ANY!"
To date, no rocks have actually been sold...
Also, my new front garden is really filling in. I had planted lots and lots of bulbs, flowers and roots, and things are growing. Including pumpkins. Mother's Day weekend, I stopped at one of my favorite green houses, along with some of the kids. The kids were taken to this sweet little area, to plant flowers and seeds for their Mamas. George chose pumpkins as his seeds, and, planted three of them. And then proceeded to take EXCELLENT care of them in their little cup. And they SPROUTED. So, he planted them. Right in my new front garden. He was so very proud of himself. And, they are taking off beautifully. I grin every single time I see them, poking underneath the Black Eyed Susans.
That is the summer at our house to date. It's only going to get busier!
"
Friday, June 26, 2015
The Devil Made Me Do It!
Chores. Unless one has a Housekeeper, Maid staff, Grounds Crew and Butler, one has to do chores.
Nod your head right now, if you are a Mom, and you fill all of those titles.
With school out for the summer, my children have been informed that they will NOT be spending it sprawled across the couches watching TV or playing on the iPad and wearing their pajamas all day. While eating nothing of nutritional value and throwing the wrappers, containers and dishes on the floors surrounding them.
Sound disgusting? Welcome to my world. Because, that is what tends to happen in my house. My children were genuinely upset that they would not get to spend their summer thusly.
The kids have been gradually conditioned into chores. Now that Mama is only working one job, and is home to supervise more, the kids have been called into service. Bearded Man mostly escapes to the neighbor's, with a can of beer, or takes a nap, to avoid the travesty of chores. Seriously though. This Mom is tired. Also, this Mom does not want to be mentally cussed out by my children's future bosses and/or spouses, because they are useless and have zero self care skills. Also, everyone is fully capable of helping out, and for the Love of the Dear Lord and all His little children, WHY are wives and Mothers expected to do EVERYTHING? Anyhow, my kids have been given chores to do.
Recently, around Mother's Day, there was a "thing" going around, where kids were asked to say something their Mother says. Over dinner, I asked my kids. Oh boy. I shouldn't have.
"I have to do EVERYTHING!"
"Seriously, this house is a DISGUSTING MESS!!!"
"DO THE DISHES!!!!"
"You kids are NOT living here forever!"
"I DON'T CARE IF YOU WILL HAVE A BUTLER - WHAT IF HE QUITS??"
"...then, STARVE, JOE!!!"
Then, a friend of mine posted this thing on Facebook that indicated that all these things mean that the devil is trying to make you a bad mother, and is laughing in the corner, and is a clean house REALLY worth all this stress?
Yes. I cannot function without at least a pathway, clean clothing, and counter space. I just. CAN'T. Now there is the guilt that I am letting the Devil get away with it.
Week one: My kids have really kept up with their chores! I am so happy. Because, week one: Mama has a cold. Or something. But, whatever it is, is miserable, and honest to goodness, we go thru this every 4 months. I go the doctor, they hand me a prescription for a sinus infection, and I go on my merry way for another few months.
Whatever this is though, means business. So, now, I have no voice, on top of feeling like this whole being alive thing is extremely temporary.
Which means nothing to no one, except, remember all those fun "MOVE" Things I have begun, committed to, signed up for, paid for? They don't go away. The Step Challenge at work is still in full force. And I have done minimal stepping.
The 5ks are still there and waiting for me, and the Adirondacks have yet to evolve into nice do-able little hills. So, I am pretty sure that conditioning or no conditioning, I am still going to have to climb them in October. Because I have announced to EVERYBODY that I will. (If we could all pray for pouring rain in the ADK for Columbus Day weekend, that would be GREAT.)
Anyhow, last night was the Corporate Challenge in the town that I work. 800 or so of the employees of local businesses turned out to traipse all over Olean for a Good Cause. I am so sorry. I have honestly no idea what the cause was. I DO know that some people had signed up to see who could donate the most cereal, so maybe for hungry people? I don't know. But, I am sure it was a Good Cause.
For our $22. entry fee, we were issued a white tee shirt, a map, and after the race, two beers and a sandwich.
Also, as I donned my white tee shirt unenthusiastically after work, I noted that it was supposed to rain. My Facebook post wondered "White tee shirt in the rain with co-workers. What could go wrong?" Normally, I am all about these races. I LOVE them. They are fun and social and I am really adding to the 5k tee shirt collection. It's become this weird obsession.
Yesterday though, I just wanted to go to bed. I did not want to walk. Trot, stroll, traipse, run, jog, meander, crawl or drag myself ANYWHERE. But, since I had started this whole Step thing at work, and this was a spin off of it, I sort of needed to smile and show up.
There were people everywhere. People wearing honest to goodness workout clothes, who totally meant business. Complicated stretches, intense faces, jogging in place, breathing exercises that were reminiscent of labor breathing, bending, twisting, and lycra covered bottoms up in the air doing various contortions everywhere I looked. I leaned against a tree and watched people that looked like Cirque Du Soliel hopefuls twisting and bending and knotting up, and wondered if my cynical self had ever seen this at other races, or, if the people of Olean NY are just more conscientious about pulled muscles than the rest of NY. It was seriously impressive.
Anyhow, the race began. The VA clinic was part of the "Walkers" group, and we walked the route at this side of a sprint. The lady that led us was all business, as she marched ahead of the crowd, and we gasped along behind her. Olean was a blur, but, we made pretty good time, and hung out for an hour after, visiting and people watching. And then I went home, took one of every cold related medicine I owned, and went to bed. Thankful that it did not pour while I was wearing a white tee shirt, and vowing to design something darker and more upbeat for shirts for next year's race. Because I will presumably be alive and more excited about it next year. Also, I need to learn how to stretch, evidently. And not be self conscious about it AT ALL. Or feel inadequate that I cannot contort into some of those stretches.
Also, I think I promised the Zumba teacher I would come back and resume Zumba. Reading these blogs and about all this exercise, you would think I would be a svelte size 6. I am not. But, I sort of signed up for a Girl's trip to the Jersey Shore Labor Day weekend, with some co -workers. Where I will meet my cousin for the first time EVER, and whose home we will be invading for 3 days. (She INVITED us, when she found out we were heading that way. This will either be the most fun weekend EVER, or, awkward as anything.) Anyhow, we will be at the Jersey Shore, and plan on drinking Mimosas around dawn as we contemplate the ocean. (One of the girls suggested Pina Colodas, but, I had to tell her that that makes you an alcoholic. One does not drink Pina Coloadas at dawn. One drinks MIMOSAS, and then it's respectable.) Also, since I now own this minivan, I offered to drive us all there. As of yet, I have absolutely no idea where "There" is, but, we are going there. And now I need to step up the whole workout game again.
In closing, I am excited to announce that I will NOT be cooking anything that is alive, or has dead eyes to stare back at me for the Fourth of July this year. My friend, Sue, who was all about the lobster (fiasco) of last year, had wanted to do a suckling pig this year. By, "wanted to do" meaning, "Moriah heads out to buy one and then figures out how to cook it, while sobbing over the dead accusing eyes staring back at her, and then starves for the nest 2 guilt ridden traumatic days" Anyhow, Sue has announced that they have unavoidable plans (which I'm willing to bet do NOT involve cooking live or baby animals that stare at her) and cannot make it to our house this year. Thus: we are doing the usual hot dogs and burgers and a smoked turkey breast.
Smoked, because Santa, God Bless Him, brought Bearded Man a smoker for Christmas last year. Bearded Man has requested that he smoke this year's Thanksgiving turkey. Mama here was trying to find a nice way to say "OH, HELL NO!!!!!!!" but, was all nice and mentioned that he hasn't really had much practice with the smoker, and are you sure you want to be responsible for such a big holiday dinner....? (AKA, I learned that I don't like smoked foods, sooooo......) So, this was mentioned to our friends Wendy and Greg, they nicely donated a turkey breast for him to practice with. Not knowing that I can't deal with a smoked Thanksgiving turkey.
I think this entire post has indicated that I am not a nice person AT. ALL. On top of that, I recently learned the Devil is in my house, making me crazy about keeping it clean, and telling the kids to get it done. Great. Another reason I am going to Hell.
Till next time!
Nod your head right now, if you are a Mom, and you fill all of those titles.
With school out for the summer, my children have been informed that they will NOT be spending it sprawled across the couches watching TV or playing on the iPad and wearing their pajamas all day. While eating nothing of nutritional value and throwing the wrappers, containers and dishes on the floors surrounding them.
Sound disgusting? Welcome to my world. Because, that is what tends to happen in my house. My children were genuinely upset that they would not get to spend their summer thusly.
The kids have been gradually conditioned into chores. Now that Mama is only working one job, and is home to supervise more, the kids have been called into service. Bearded Man mostly escapes to the neighbor's, with a can of beer, or takes a nap, to avoid the travesty of chores. Seriously though. This Mom is tired. Also, this Mom does not want to be mentally cussed out by my children's future bosses and/or spouses, because they are useless and have zero self care skills. Also, everyone is fully capable of helping out, and for the Love of the Dear Lord and all His little children, WHY are wives and Mothers expected to do EVERYTHING? Anyhow, my kids have been given chores to do.
Recently, around Mother's Day, there was a "thing" going around, where kids were asked to say something their Mother says. Over dinner, I asked my kids. Oh boy. I shouldn't have.
"I have to do EVERYTHING!"
"Seriously, this house is a DISGUSTING MESS!!!"
"DO THE DISHES!!!!"
"You kids are NOT living here forever!"
"I DON'T CARE IF YOU WILL HAVE A BUTLER - WHAT IF HE QUITS??"
"...then, STARVE, JOE!!!"
Then, a friend of mine posted this thing on Facebook that indicated that all these things mean that the devil is trying to make you a bad mother, and is laughing in the corner, and is a clean house REALLY worth all this stress?
Yes. I cannot function without at least a pathway, clean clothing, and counter space. I just. CAN'T. Now there is the guilt that I am letting the Devil get away with it.
Week one: My kids have really kept up with their chores! I am so happy. Because, week one: Mama has a cold. Or something. But, whatever it is, is miserable, and honest to goodness, we go thru this every 4 months. I go the doctor, they hand me a prescription for a sinus infection, and I go on my merry way for another few months.
Whatever this is though, means business. So, now, I have no voice, on top of feeling like this whole being alive thing is extremely temporary.
Which means nothing to no one, except, remember all those fun "MOVE" Things I have begun, committed to, signed up for, paid for? They don't go away. The Step Challenge at work is still in full force. And I have done minimal stepping.
The 5ks are still there and waiting for me, and the Adirondacks have yet to evolve into nice do-able little hills. So, I am pretty sure that conditioning or no conditioning, I am still going to have to climb them in October. Because I have announced to EVERYBODY that I will. (If we could all pray for pouring rain in the ADK for Columbus Day weekend, that would be GREAT.)
Anyhow, last night was the Corporate Challenge in the town that I work. 800 or so of the employees of local businesses turned out to traipse all over Olean for a Good Cause. I am so sorry. I have honestly no idea what the cause was. I DO know that some people had signed up to see who could donate the most cereal, so maybe for hungry people? I don't know. But, I am sure it was a Good Cause.
For our $22. entry fee, we were issued a white tee shirt, a map, and after the race, two beers and a sandwich.
Also, as I donned my white tee shirt unenthusiastically after work, I noted that it was supposed to rain. My Facebook post wondered "White tee shirt in the rain with co-workers. What could go wrong?" Normally, I am all about these races. I LOVE them. They are fun and social and I am really adding to the 5k tee shirt collection. It's become this weird obsession.
Yesterday though, I just wanted to go to bed. I did not want to walk. Trot, stroll, traipse, run, jog, meander, crawl or drag myself ANYWHERE. But, since I had started this whole Step thing at work, and this was a spin off of it, I sort of needed to smile and show up.
There were people everywhere. People wearing honest to goodness workout clothes, who totally meant business. Complicated stretches, intense faces, jogging in place, breathing exercises that were reminiscent of labor breathing, bending, twisting, and lycra covered bottoms up in the air doing various contortions everywhere I looked. I leaned against a tree and watched people that looked like Cirque Du Soliel hopefuls twisting and bending and knotting up, and wondered if my cynical self had ever seen this at other races, or, if the people of Olean NY are just more conscientious about pulled muscles than the rest of NY. It was seriously impressive.
Anyhow, the race began. The VA clinic was part of the "Walkers" group, and we walked the route at this side of a sprint. The lady that led us was all business, as she marched ahead of the crowd, and we gasped along behind her. Olean was a blur, but, we made pretty good time, and hung out for an hour after, visiting and people watching. And then I went home, took one of every cold related medicine I owned, and went to bed. Thankful that it did not pour while I was wearing a white tee shirt, and vowing to design something darker and more upbeat for shirts for next year's race. Because I will presumably be alive and more excited about it next year. Also, I need to learn how to stretch, evidently. And not be self conscious about it AT ALL. Or feel inadequate that I cannot contort into some of those stretches.
Also, I think I promised the Zumba teacher I would come back and resume Zumba. Reading these blogs and about all this exercise, you would think I would be a svelte size 6. I am not. But, I sort of signed up for a Girl's trip to the Jersey Shore Labor Day weekend, with some co -workers. Where I will meet my cousin for the first time EVER, and whose home we will be invading for 3 days. (She INVITED us, when she found out we were heading that way. This will either be the most fun weekend EVER, or, awkward as anything.) Anyhow, we will be at the Jersey Shore, and plan on drinking Mimosas around dawn as we contemplate the ocean. (One of the girls suggested Pina Colodas, but, I had to tell her that that makes you an alcoholic. One does not drink Pina Coloadas at dawn. One drinks MIMOSAS, and then it's respectable.) Also, since I now own this minivan, I offered to drive us all there. As of yet, I have absolutely no idea where "There" is, but, we are going there. And now I need to step up the whole workout game again.
In closing, I am excited to announce that I will NOT be cooking anything that is alive, or has dead eyes to stare back at me for the Fourth of July this year. My friend, Sue, who was all about the lobster (fiasco) of last year, had wanted to do a suckling pig this year. By, "wanted to do" meaning, "Moriah heads out to buy one and then figures out how to cook it, while sobbing over the dead accusing eyes staring back at her, and then starves for the nest 2 guilt ridden traumatic days" Anyhow, Sue has announced that they have unavoidable plans (which I'm willing to bet do NOT involve cooking live or baby animals that stare at her) and cannot make it to our house this year. Thus: we are doing the usual hot dogs and burgers and a smoked turkey breast.
Smoked, because Santa, God Bless Him, brought Bearded Man a smoker for Christmas last year. Bearded Man has requested that he smoke this year's Thanksgiving turkey. Mama here was trying to find a nice way to say "OH, HELL NO!!!!!!!" but, was all nice and mentioned that he hasn't really had much practice with the smoker, and are you sure you want to be responsible for such a big holiday dinner....? (AKA, I learned that I don't like smoked foods, sooooo......) So, this was mentioned to our friends Wendy and Greg, they nicely donated a turkey breast for him to practice with. Not knowing that I can't deal with a smoked Thanksgiving turkey.
I think this entire post has indicated that I am not a nice person AT. ALL. On top of that, I recently learned the Devil is in my house, making me crazy about keeping it clean, and telling the kids to get it done. Great. Another reason I am going to Hell.
Till next time!
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Batman Does Not Fly
Over the past year or so, every time I have seen a little girl in a pretty sun dress, looked at displays of toddler hair bows, and seen the tutus, princess dresses, tea sets and all things little girl, I have mourned a little bit for the days of little girls.
I have also become completely aggravated at people who look at my sympathetically and say "Ugh. You have girls. I am so sorry. Boys are easier." (An aside here: I have entirely MORE drama with my boys, than I ever have with my girls thus far.)
Two weekends ago, I stopped missing the days of tiny girls in sun dresses with fancy hair bows, and realized that I have two of the most fun young ladies EVER. And, I enjoy every second with them.
While the days of adorable little girl accessories are gone, so are the days of packing: The stroller, diapers, diaper bag, baby food, formula, bottles, water, wipes, toys, snacks, extra clothing just in case. I DO however, finally own a vehicle that could accommodate it all, now that we're finished with it.
That being said, last Saturday, my girls and I were up at 5:00 am, and getting ready for the "Color Me Rad" 5k at 6 Flags Darien Lake, approximately an hour from our home. The plan was, to do the 5k in the morning, and then continue on to the park, to spend the day on the rides and the water park. This was what we were doing for Kaila's 14th Birthday, and we were all pretty excited about it. Wearing our white T-Shirts, shorts, and Lexi with her pink sparkly Tutu, we were on our way.
Before the race had even started, Lexi was up on center stage in a kool-aid chugging contest, and was totally rocking her dance moves to the music that was thumping from the DJ pre- race. By the time the 5k began, Lexi was no longer in the mood for it, having just expended all her energy dancing for an hour.
We were in the first wave of people to run, and we broke out at a nice trot out of the starting line. This was great! This would be so FUN! This was so ni- "Mom. THIS princess does NOT run. Can we just walk now?" from Lexi. So, a fast walk we did.
The race took us from the back of the park, clear down to the main gates at the highway, around the front of it, and through the camp ground on site. Where, we were greeted with lots of confused campers who had no idea that a large body of people wearing crazy costumes, covered with assorted colors of powders and gels would be running through the campground first thing in the morning. Also, pretty much every single person in the campground was cooking bacon for breakfast.
By every single person, I literally mean, several hundred people ALL seemed to be cooking bacon. Regular bacon, maple bacon - just - bacon. Everywhere. It was all you could smell. "Mom." begged Kaila, "Let's just give up and go beg for bacon." Racers all around us were commenting on it. Some coming to a stop, some slowing down. Bacon was everywhere. The struggle to continue was real. I don't think I have ever wanted bacon so badly in my life.
In the middle of this, two twenty something men jogged by, wearing shorts that had "Moist" printed across the back of one, and "Juicy" printed across the back of the other. Predictably, my kids wondered aloud what the heck that was all about.
"Kids." I panted, "I don't care who you are, what you are, how old you are, or where you are. It is NEVER okay to advertise ANYTHING across your butt. OMG, MORE BACON! Can you smell it!"
"I KNOW! BACON!" They responded, and on we trotted.
Anyway, we all lived through the 5k, even though Lexi was pretty sure she wouldn't most of the time. After which, we spent the rest of the day in the park on the rides and in the water park. It was such a fun day with my girls, and it really made me appreciate being a mom to older kids now.
Not to leave the boys out here: I spent this past weekend giving their bedroom a good cleaning, and going through clothes, weeding out things that don't fit and generally re-organizing things. In other words: their bedroom was a disgusting pigsty, and it needed to be overhauled.
The decision was made to separate their bunk beds, and put them back as single beds. I honestly never gave it a thought, that this was George's room, and that I honestly should have put more consideration into furniture placement.
I further did not give it a thought, when I saw George creeping up the stairs in his Batman Cape and mask, looking furtive.
I was out on the porch reading a book, listening to the rain, and not thinking AT ALL that things were entirely too quiet around the house.
Lexi came out and informed me that George was climbing to the top of his (TALL!) dresser, and launching himself halfway across the room, to land on his brother's bed. He was insisting he was Batman, and Batman can fly.
It was explained that Batman CANNOT, indeed, fly, and to knock it off immediately. Followed by a discussion on Superheros and which ones can do what. Thank Goodness Batman is not a flying Superhero. No Superman capes will be allowed on the premises. I am rethinking the single beds now. He spent hours bouncing on the beds, and jumping from one to the other.
The next door neighbors have gotten a trampoline. I thought about acquiring one for our back yard for about 30 seconds. However, I am positive that if anything awful were to happen on a trampoline in our back yard, it would be when I am not home, and the resident Batman would injure himself. So, we nixed the trampoline idea.
Also of note: This week is the last week of school and baseball. We are about to go from: the craziest packed schedules EVER, to - nothing. The kids will be climbing the walls within two days.
Well. Either that, or binge watching things on Netflix. I need to find things for them to do. We are all ready for a break from the craziness though. We need a breather from the hectic schedules!
While there will be a lack of school/sports/music activities, unfortunately, it is nearly canning season.
Why. WHY do I DO this???? This year, I have already announced that we are picking FOUR flats of strawberries, so that I can freeze half of them, and turn the rest into strawberry preserves. Then there will be corn to freeze, peas to pick and freeze (because canned peas are disgusting, please don't argue with me about this. They are.) the peaches, the grapes, the apples, the blueberries, the raspberries and blackberries and possibly green beans. Not sure I am ready to tackle tomatoes. The pressure cooker makes me nervous.
The mental math gets a little stuck here, but, I will need approximately 100 pounds of sugar, for all this homemade goodness.
Ah well. All trauma aside, the peach preserves I made last year are so so good. It was nearly worth it.
Within the next week, we will be celebrating Joe's 10th Birthday. Sometimes, his dry quick humor and brains make it seem like I am talking to a 25 year old. Sometimes, he is all little boy. Other times, he is a mini adult. I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for this kid. The other night at dinner, Kaila excitedly announced that she had only missed 7 questions on a 100 question Science test. "My score was 94!" she announced, all proud. No one thought a thing of it, till Joe pipes up "Kaila. Your score was 93. If you missed 7 on a 100 question test, it was NOT 94. How did you do on your MATH finals??"
On Mother's Day, Joe marched into my bedroom, stopped once in my eyesight, and announced gruffly " I would like to wish you a Happy Mother's Day. That is all." and marched back out again to my howls of laughter. Last week, he wrote a very articulate "Declaration of Boy Independence" essentially giving him the same rights as a man. The kid in him came out, though, when we insisted he get a job and help pay the bills. Evidently it only applied to ice cream and bed time privileges. Anyhow, he's definnitly one of a kind. I wouldn't change a thing about him.
Now that I am not working 2 jobs for the summer, I have been cracking the whip around the household a little more.
I have never liked the dishwasher, and never thought it made the dishes particularly clean. Also, I hate doing dishes. Really really hate it. So, the kids now take turns washing the dishes every night. i tell them it's a good life skill. As well as laundry. So, they assist with that, too. They all have a pretty good probability of not having a dishwasher or maid at their first apartment. It's good stuff to know. Except Lexi, who is still pretty sure she will have a Butler and a mansion. Still. In case the Butler quits - you still need to know how to wash your dishes. And your underwear. So, my minions have really been put to work. Character, and all that. Also, in case we didn't get the message the first time - This Mama hates doing dishes...
So, that sums up life around here. We survived a 5k, with bacon traps. We will probably not get a trampoline. Batman lives at my house. Canning season and the subsequent whining will be upon us soon. My kids have been given slave labor, and have thus far lived to tell about it.
I have also become completely aggravated at people who look at my sympathetically and say "Ugh. You have girls. I am so sorry. Boys are easier." (An aside here: I have entirely MORE drama with my boys, than I ever have with my girls thus far.)
Two weekends ago, I stopped missing the days of tiny girls in sun dresses with fancy hair bows, and realized that I have two of the most fun young ladies EVER. And, I enjoy every second with them.
While the days of adorable little girl accessories are gone, so are the days of packing: The stroller, diapers, diaper bag, baby food, formula, bottles, water, wipes, toys, snacks, extra clothing just in case. I DO however, finally own a vehicle that could accommodate it all, now that we're finished with it.
That being said, last Saturday, my girls and I were up at 5:00 am, and getting ready for the "Color Me Rad" 5k at 6 Flags Darien Lake, approximately an hour from our home. The plan was, to do the 5k in the morning, and then continue on to the park, to spend the day on the rides and the water park. This was what we were doing for Kaila's 14th Birthday, and we were all pretty excited about it. Wearing our white T-Shirts, shorts, and Lexi with her pink sparkly Tutu, we were on our way.
Before the race had even started, Lexi was up on center stage in a kool-aid chugging contest, and was totally rocking her dance moves to the music that was thumping from the DJ pre- race. By the time the 5k began, Lexi was no longer in the mood for it, having just expended all her energy dancing for an hour.
We were in the first wave of people to run, and we broke out at a nice trot out of the starting line. This was great! This would be so FUN! This was so ni- "Mom. THIS princess does NOT run. Can we just walk now?" from Lexi. So, a fast walk we did.
The race took us from the back of the park, clear down to the main gates at the highway, around the front of it, and through the camp ground on site. Where, we were greeted with lots of confused campers who had no idea that a large body of people wearing crazy costumes, covered with assorted colors of powders and gels would be running through the campground first thing in the morning. Also, pretty much every single person in the campground was cooking bacon for breakfast.
By every single person, I literally mean, several hundred people ALL seemed to be cooking bacon. Regular bacon, maple bacon - just - bacon. Everywhere. It was all you could smell. "Mom." begged Kaila, "Let's just give up and go beg for bacon." Racers all around us were commenting on it. Some coming to a stop, some slowing down. Bacon was everywhere. The struggle to continue was real. I don't think I have ever wanted bacon so badly in my life.
In the middle of this, two twenty something men jogged by, wearing shorts that had "Moist" printed across the back of one, and "Juicy" printed across the back of the other. Predictably, my kids wondered aloud what the heck that was all about.
"Kids." I panted, "I don't care who you are, what you are, how old you are, or where you are. It is NEVER okay to advertise ANYTHING across your butt. OMG, MORE BACON! Can you smell it!"
"I KNOW! BACON!" They responded, and on we trotted.
Anyway, we all lived through the 5k, even though Lexi was pretty sure she wouldn't most of the time. After which, we spent the rest of the day in the park on the rides and in the water park. It was such a fun day with my girls, and it really made me appreciate being a mom to older kids now.
Not to leave the boys out here: I spent this past weekend giving their bedroom a good cleaning, and going through clothes, weeding out things that don't fit and generally re-organizing things. In other words: their bedroom was a disgusting pigsty, and it needed to be overhauled.
The decision was made to separate their bunk beds, and put them back as single beds. I honestly never gave it a thought, that this was George's room, and that I honestly should have put more consideration into furniture placement.
I further did not give it a thought, when I saw George creeping up the stairs in his Batman Cape and mask, looking furtive.
I was out on the porch reading a book, listening to the rain, and not thinking AT ALL that things were entirely too quiet around the house.
Lexi came out and informed me that George was climbing to the top of his (TALL!) dresser, and launching himself halfway across the room, to land on his brother's bed. He was insisting he was Batman, and Batman can fly.
It was explained that Batman CANNOT, indeed, fly, and to knock it off immediately. Followed by a discussion on Superheros and which ones can do what. Thank Goodness Batman is not a flying Superhero. No Superman capes will be allowed on the premises. I am rethinking the single beds now. He spent hours bouncing on the beds, and jumping from one to the other.
The next door neighbors have gotten a trampoline. I thought about acquiring one for our back yard for about 30 seconds. However, I am positive that if anything awful were to happen on a trampoline in our back yard, it would be when I am not home, and the resident Batman would injure himself. So, we nixed the trampoline idea.
Also of note: This week is the last week of school and baseball. We are about to go from: the craziest packed schedules EVER, to - nothing. The kids will be climbing the walls within two days.
Well. Either that, or binge watching things on Netflix. I need to find things for them to do. We are all ready for a break from the craziness though. We need a breather from the hectic schedules!
While there will be a lack of school/sports/music activities, unfortunately, it is nearly canning season.
Why. WHY do I DO this???? This year, I have already announced that we are picking FOUR flats of strawberries, so that I can freeze half of them, and turn the rest into strawberry preserves. Then there will be corn to freeze, peas to pick and freeze (because canned peas are disgusting, please don't argue with me about this. They are.) the peaches, the grapes, the apples, the blueberries, the raspberries and blackberries and possibly green beans. Not sure I am ready to tackle tomatoes. The pressure cooker makes me nervous.
The mental math gets a little stuck here, but, I will need approximately 100 pounds of sugar, for all this homemade goodness.
Ah well. All trauma aside, the peach preserves I made last year are so so good. It was nearly worth it.
Within the next week, we will be celebrating Joe's 10th Birthday. Sometimes, his dry quick humor and brains make it seem like I am talking to a 25 year old. Sometimes, he is all little boy. Other times, he is a mini adult. I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for this kid. The other night at dinner, Kaila excitedly announced that she had only missed 7 questions on a 100 question Science test. "My score was 94!" she announced, all proud. No one thought a thing of it, till Joe pipes up "Kaila. Your score was 93. If you missed 7 on a 100 question test, it was NOT 94. How did you do on your MATH finals??"
On Mother's Day, Joe marched into my bedroom, stopped once in my eyesight, and announced gruffly " I would like to wish you a Happy Mother's Day. That is all." and marched back out again to my howls of laughter. Last week, he wrote a very articulate "Declaration of Boy Independence" essentially giving him the same rights as a man. The kid in him came out, though, when we insisted he get a job and help pay the bills. Evidently it only applied to ice cream and bed time privileges. Anyhow, he's definnitly one of a kind. I wouldn't change a thing about him.
Now that I am not working 2 jobs for the summer, I have been cracking the whip around the household a little more.
I have never liked the dishwasher, and never thought it made the dishes particularly clean. Also, I hate doing dishes. Really really hate it. So, the kids now take turns washing the dishes every night. i tell them it's a good life skill. As well as laundry. So, they assist with that, too. They all have a pretty good probability of not having a dishwasher or maid at their first apartment. It's good stuff to know. Except Lexi, who is still pretty sure she will have a Butler and a mansion. Still. In case the Butler quits - you still need to know how to wash your dishes. And your underwear. So, my minions have really been put to work. Character, and all that. Also, in case we didn't get the message the first time - This Mama hates doing dishes...
So, that sums up life around here. We survived a 5k, with bacon traps. We will probably not get a trampoline. Batman lives at my house. Canning season and the subsequent whining will be upon us soon. My kids have been given slave labor, and have thus far lived to tell about it.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Climb Every Mountain!
I am still sore from this past weekend. It is Thursday. And I am still sore from this past weekend.
Which has made me think that I might not make it through the planned and booked trip to the Adirondacks this Fall, to hike up 2 mountain peaks. Why the heck do I DO these things? I would be so happy if I could just lie in my recliner and read books while eating chocolate and drinking wine. Since that will never ever happen due to time constraints and constant interruptions, I may as well train for things that sound much better 10 months before I actually have to present myself for the tortures I pay to put myself through.
Anyhow, back to this past weekend, and my latest self torture idea at work. This past weekend, we were pretty booked for Saturday. I had to go pick up my van, Huckleberry, from my sister's. I love my little sister so so so much. Honestly, I laugh the hardest when I am with her, and we have become closer as adults, than we ever could have been as kids. I have so much respect for my single mom little sister, who manages to do it all, work harder than most people, keep a SPOTLESS house, and make sure her kids are never without. All while looking gorgeous and perfect at all times. So, when she asked to borrow my van to take her kids and her son's friends to Chucky Cheese for her son's birthday, I didn't hesitate. I said SURE! And even dropped it off to her.
The next day, I received a call at work from said little sister.
"Ri. There has been an incident." were the first words out of her mouth,
Deeeeeeep breath. "Okay."
"There was this POS Truck in front of me, and this HUGE part just FLEW off, and BAM!"
"...... Is everyone okay?"
"YES! I am waiting for the police to catch up to us!"
"Catch -? Never mind. Is my van okay?"
"YES! NO! I DON'T KNOW! I CAN'T GET OUT!"
"You can't get out?"
"Not till the police get here! There was a chase!"
"A chase? What?"
"I HAD TO CHASE THEM DOWN, RI!!! THEY WOULDN'T STOP!!!!"
"Ummmm. But you're okay? Kids are all okay?"
"YES! We're all fine! The kids were writing down the license plate number while I chased them and called 911! OH! Police are here! Gotta go! Call you back later!" *Click*
Awhile later....
"Ri. Okay. So, the police are gone. I think your van is okay. There were police EVERYWHERE! Like, there were SO MANY of them! OMG. Anyway, the other truck got towed and the driver got arrested and EVERYTHING! They got under the van and said it all looked okay. I have all the report information though, in case you need it."
"How is the rest of the van?"
"It's all good. There was this HUGE part that fell off the truck in front of me - that truck had a BROKEN FRAME, RI! - and bounced down the road and just EXPLODED under the van. It all seems to be okay though."
"Brianna. Is it even POSSIBLE for you to do anything without police involvement?" (Things like this seem to happen every time my sister leaves her house.)
"No. I don't think so. Gotta go, Ri! We're on our way to Chucky Cheese now!"
Anyhow, I offered to go pick up poor Huckleberry the next day, as I had to head that way anyhow. No lie. We cleaned TWO bags of garbage left by various children out of my vehicle before I left. It was crazy.
"So.... what did you think about driving the van, Bri? Did you like it?"
"Yes. No. Ye - noYes. I don't know. I felt like it was so BIG. Like, I was driving a bus. Also, it's a lot harder to get to kids when they aren't behaving, when they aren't right behind you... OH! Don't forget your card with the accident information on it!"
Anyhow, Saturday was pretty much a non chore day. Sunday though, I spent the day in my gardens. They needed some much needed weeding and mulching, and pretty much the entire day was spent trying to get them into decent shape.
By Monday, I was one sore Mama. Who had promised the kids we would do something fun for the holiday. It was decided that Lechworth State Park was just the ticket. Three different sets of waterfalls, lots of exercise and hiking and stairs involved - perfect.
After the first waterfall, Bearded Man looked at me and inquired if I was able to climb up and down all 4 million stairs to the lower falls. I was seriously insulted. I am planning on hauling myself up TWO mountain peaks in 4 months! I can HANDLE a few hundred stairs, thank you very much!
It is now Thursday, and my legs continue to hurt. NOT because of the stairs, but, because of the gardening AND the stairs. AND the Step Challenge Club.
The what? It's this brilliant idea I had at work, after I lost my pre dawn walking partner to her children's morning shower schedules. I needed the inspiration to walk again. So, I started a Step Challenge Club at work. And now, I must walk several miles every day on my lunch break, including as many hills as possible. Thus, it is Thursday, and my legs are killing me.
Anyhow. My first 5k of the season is next Saturday. I am taking Kaila and Lexi to 6 Flags Darien Lake for Kaila's 14th birthday next weekend, and we are doing the "Color Me Rad" 5k, and then spending the day at the amusement park. I honestly cannot wait.
Which has made me think that I might not make it through the planned and booked trip to the Adirondacks this Fall, to hike up 2 mountain peaks. Why the heck do I DO these things? I would be so happy if I could just lie in my recliner and read books while eating chocolate and drinking wine. Since that will never ever happen due to time constraints and constant interruptions, I may as well train for things that sound much better 10 months before I actually have to present myself for the tortures I pay to put myself through.
Anyhow, back to this past weekend, and my latest self torture idea at work. This past weekend, we were pretty booked for Saturday. I had to go pick up my van, Huckleberry, from my sister's. I love my little sister so so so much. Honestly, I laugh the hardest when I am with her, and we have become closer as adults, than we ever could have been as kids. I have so much respect for my single mom little sister, who manages to do it all, work harder than most people, keep a SPOTLESS house, and make sure her kids are never without. All while looking gorgeous and perfect at all times. So, when she asked to borrow my van to take her kids and her son's friends to Chucky Cheese for her son's birthday, I didn't hesitate. I said SURE! And even dropped it off to her.
The next day, I received a call at work from said little sister.
"Ri. There has been an incident." were the first words out of her mouth,
Deeeeeeep breath. "Okay."
"There was this POS Truck in front of me, and this HUGE part just FLEW off, and BAM!"
"...... Is everyone okay?"
"YES! I am waiting for the police to catch up to us!"
"Catch -? Never mind. Is my van okay?"
"YES! NO! I DON'T KNOW! I CAN'T GET OUT!"
"You can't get out?"
"Not till the police get here! There was a chase!"
"A chase? What?"
"I HAD TO CHASE THEM DOWN, RI!!! THEY WOULDN'T STOP!!!!"
"Ummmm. But you're okay? Kids are all okay?"
"YES! We're all fine! The kids were writing down the license plate number while I chased them and called 911! OH! Police are here! Gotta go! Call you back later!" *Click*
Awhile later....
"Ri. Okay. So, the police are gone. I think your van is okay. There were police EVERYWHERE! Like, there were SO MANY of them! OMG. Anyway, the other truck got towed and the driver got arrested and EVERYTHING! They got under the van and said it all looked okay. I have all the report information though, in case you need it."
"How is the rest of the van?"
"It's all good. There was this HUGE part that fell off the truck in front of me - that truck had a BROKEN FRAME, RI! - and bounced down the road and just EXPLODED under the van. It all seems to be okay though."
"Brianna. Is it even POSSIBLE for you to do anything without police involvement?" (Things like this seem to happen every time my sister leaves her house.)
"No. I don't think so. Gotta go, Ri! We're on our way to Chucky Cheese now!"
Anyhow, I offered to go pick up poor Huckleberry the next day, as I had to head that way anyhow. No lie. We cleaned TWO bags of garbage left by various children out of my vehicle before I left. It was crazy.
"So.... what did you think about driving the van, Bri? Did you like it?"
"Yes. No. Ye - noYes. I don't know. I felt like it was so BIG. Like, I was driving a bus. Also, it's a lot harder to get to kids when they aren't behaving, when they aren't right behind you... OH! Don't forget your card with the accident information on it!"
Anyhow, Saturday was pretty much a non chore day. Sunday though, I spent the day in my gardens. They needed some much needed weeding and mulching, and pretty much the entire day was spent trying to get them into decent shape.
By Monday, I was one sore Mama. Who had promised the kids we would do something fun for the holiday. It was decided that Lechworth State Park was just the ticket. Three different sets of waterfalls, lots of exercise and hiking and stairs involved - perfect.
After the first waterfall, Bearded Man looked at me and inquired if I was able to climb up and down all 4 million stairs to the lower falls. I was seriously insulted. I am planning on hauling myself up TWO mountain peaks in 4 months! I can HANDLE a few hundred stairs, thank you very much!
It is now Thursday, and my legs continue to hurt. NOT because of the stairs, but, because of the gardening AND the stairs. AND the Step Challenge Club.
The what? It's this brilliant idea I had at work, after I lost my pre dawn walking partner to her children's morning shower schedules. I needed the inspiration to walk again. So, I started a Step Challenge Club at work. And now, I must walk several miles every day on my lunch break, including as many hills as possible. Thus, it is Thursday, and my legs are killing me.
Anyhow. My first 5k of the season is next Saturday. I am taking Kaila and Lexi to 6 Flags Darien Lake for Kaila's 14th birthday next weekend, and we are doing the "Color Me Rad" 5k, and then spending the day at the amusement park. I honestly cannot wait.
Friday, May 15, 2015
Mama Throws a Tantrum
I recently found out what it takes for me to throw a tantrum. To become unreasonable, mad, tearful, and completely irrational.
Tell me about your vacations. I would LOVE to see the cruise pictures, the beach pictures, the hot tubs, to pools, the resorts, the oceans, the exotic and sophisticated destinations. I will be thrilled for you, and demand to hear the details.
Show me your new car, and I will beg a ride, and inspect the whole thing, and be completely excited for you.
Tell me about your new house, and I will be so excited for you! I will bring you a housewarming present and exclaim over your closet space and help decide where the Christmas Tree should go.
New kitchen? That's GREAT!
Perfect job that pays lots of money? GOOD FOR YOU!
Seriously. I will be so happy for you.
Recently though, I found out that someone I know has a cleaning lady. When Bearded Man happened to mention this little tidbit, I looked around my disgrace of a home, and the never ending laundry, and the Easter clings still on the (dirty) windows, etc etc etc. thought about the lack of time and/or energy to do it all. I almost burst into tears on the spot. It was the closest I have ever come to total melt down temper tantrum in my adult life EVER. I think I may have even swore heartily. It's still a semi (Okay, VERY) raw subject. Greed, Envy and Sloth, all rolled up into one swear word encrusted package, guaranteed to send me directly to hell. Wash it down with chocolate and wine, and I suppose we can add Gluttony to the list.
A cleaning lady. I would work a third job, if I could have a housekeeper. You have no idea.
Speaking of all these jobs, I have officially put (temporary) notice in at job #2. In looking at the family summer schedule and the long long long list of things that REALLY need to get done, and the general chaos of Mom not being home, and something had to give. I let the waitressing job know that possibly I may come back in the late fall-ish.
That being said, the other day job #1 unexpectedly closed down, due to plumbing issues. I was back home from work by 0930, all alone at home.
So much got done. Overdue cleaning and scrubbing and purging. All while dealing with an upset husky that wanted to go for a walk, thus making himself as much as a nuisance as possible.
The thought occurred to me then that: I don't need a cleaning lady. I need to get organized again, and get the house back up to snuff, and then assign tasks to my perfectly able bodied children! And Bearded Man.
But then, nice weather and gardens happened. Which meant the housework slid again. The kids all wanted to play outside, Bearded Man made his rounds to visit all the neighbors, and I just wanted to play in the gardens. Which means I need a Cleaning Lady again.
If anyone near me knows of a reputable and extremely inexpensive cleaning person, let me know. My sister takes payment in pizza and Tim Horton's coffee for haircuts.It would be nice if the cleaning person accepted the same forms of payment.
Okay. A cleaning person is never going to happen, so, on to the latest issue at my house.
Chewing gum. I like gum. I used to always keep it in my vehicle. I also sometimes keep it in my office at work. It's a Thing.
George is the most suspicious Tiny Human ever. It's like having a drug seeking dog greet me after work every single day. Even if I keep my gum strictly at work, and discard it before I leave - he KNOWS. I get a breath check almost daily. "Mom. I smell mint. Did you have gum? Are you eating it? Is it in your mouth? Open your mouth, so I can see. AAAHHHHHH. SAY "AHHHHHH, MOM!"
"GEORGE! Get OUT of my pockets!" "Get OUT of my van!"
I literally get all but frisked for gum nearly daily. If it is present, he nicely hands it out to friends, neighbors, his siblings. (With the usual exception of Joe...) and then chews the rest. He will find my keys and unlock the van, in his quest for chewing gum. He needs an intervention.
Also, we are at the time of year when all the neighbors are outside all the time. Which means that George is MIA most of the time, as he makes the rounds between his friends all within 4 houses, including ours. It is not uncommon to find me standing on the front porch hollering for him. Before we all get all 'OMG, WHAT A BAD MOM, WHAT IF KIDNAPPING???!!!!!!!" Relax. There are parents all over the place, and we have a general idea he is either in the back yard next door, or 2 houses down at his other friend's house. Honestly, I have had a hard time keeping that child home since he was 2.
Or, there is the usual swarm of assorted neighbors and/or children on my porch, on my steps, in my lawn, or running through my house. I never know from day to day who will be at my house. Sometimes, we have the "Porch Party" which is never planned, but always well attended and always a lot of fun. Essentially, everyone gathers in the vicinity of our porch, with or without a libation of choice, and just visits, while all 900 kids run around in the light of street lamps and porch twinkle lights. Now, with the addition of a new front garden, surrounded by a brick raised garden, there will be even more places for the neighbors to sit, while we all visit in the front yard. Honestly, I love it.
My gardens! This year, I Pinterested the daylights out of gardening ideas, but, mostly needed to come up with a use for lots of bricks rescued from a local business building reno last summer. I knew I wanted a raised garden bed. I fell in love with the one at our church last summer, and decided on the spot that I needed raised garden beds. However, I think the church has an edge on me. Because it's a church, and because a Nun takes care of it. I think it's sort of obligated to be perfect. Still. Poor Bearded Man has no idea what's in store for him. There are still lots of bricks....
Anyhow, this weekend, weather and time permitting, I am planting the daylights out of the new garden. Also, I have decided to turn a rusty old radio flier wagon into a planter.
All this will occur between baseball and tee ball games, and a birthday party to take Lexi to. The party of a young man that she has had in her class nearly every year. He stopped by the house recently to inform us that he DID NOT like Lexi "That way" and, just as a FRIEND. Which Lexi shot back was FINE, because another boy had given her fresh picked flowers on the playground just that day, so, THERE!" Anyhow, it will probably be a busy weekend.
Anyhow, I realize this isn't the most amazing Blog ever, but, it's life in a nutshell around here. To wrap it up: Only ONE job for the summer! George has a weird gum addiction, and I refuse to enable it. (Or share), I need a cleaning lady, and nearly had a breakdown because someone I know has one and I do NOT, I have gardens that will look great for about a month, and then I will run out of time to weed them, but, I must continue to add MORE gardens, and, Lexi has to go to a birthday party of a boy who came to our house and informed us that she is JUST his FRIEND.
Hahaha! Have a great weekend!
Tell me about your vacations. I would LOVE to see the cruise pictures, the beach pictures, the hot tubs, to pools, the resorts, the oceans, the exotic and sophisticated destinations. I will be thrilled for you, and demand to hear the details.
Show me your new car, and I will beg a ride, and inspect the whole thing, and be completely excited for you.
Tell me about your new house, and I will be so excited for you! I will bring you a housewarming present and exclaim over your closet space and help decide where the Christmas Tree should go.
New kitchen? That's GREAT!
Perfect job that pays lots of money? GOOD FOR YOU!
Seriously. I will be so happy for you.
Recently though, I found out that someone I know has a cleaning lady. When Bearded Man happened to mention this little tidbit, I looked around my disgrace of a home, and the never ending laundry, and the Easter clings still on the (dirty) windows, etc etc etc. thought about the lack of time and/or energy to do it all. I almost burst into tears on the spot. It was the closest I have ever come to total melt down temper tantrum in my adult life EVER. I think I may have even swore heartily. It's still a semi (Okay, VERY) raw subject. Greed, Envy and Sloth, all rolled up into one swear word encrusted package, guaranteed to send me directly to hell. Wash it down with chocolate and wine, and I suppose we can add Gluttony to the list.
A cleaning lady. I would work a third job, if I could have a housekeeper. You have no idea.
Speaking of all these jobs, I have officially put (temporary) notice in at job #2. In looking at the family summer schedule and the long long long list of things that REALLY need to get done, and the general chaos of Mom not being home, and something had to give. I let the waitressing job know that possibly I may come back in the late fall-ish.
That being said, the other day job #1 unexpectedly closed down, due to plumbing issues. I was back home from work by 0930, all alone at home.
So much got done. Overdue cleaning and scrubbing and purging. All while dealing with an upset husky that wanted to go for a walk, thus making himself as much as a nuisance as possible.
The thought occurred to me then that: I don't need a cleaning lady. I need to get organized again, and get the house back up to snuff, and then assign tasks to my perfectly able bodied children! And Bearded Man.
But then, nice weather and gardens happened. Which meant the housework slid again. The kids all wanted to play outside, Bearded Man made his rounds to visit all the neighbors, and I just wanted to play in the gardens. Which means I need a Cleaning Lady again.
If anyone near me knows of a reputable and extremely inexpensive cleaning person, let me know. My sister takes payment in pizza and Tim Horton's coffee for haircuts.It would be nice if the cleaning person accepted the same forms of payment.
Okay. A cleaning person is never going to happen, so, on to the latest issue at my house.
Chewing gum. I like gum. I used to always keep it in my vehicle. I also sometimes keep it in my office at work. It's a Thing.
George is the most suspicious Tiny Human ever. It's like having a drug seeking dog greet me after work every single day. Even if I keep my gum strictly at work, and discard it before I leave - he KNOWS. I get a breath check almost daily. "Mom. I smell mint. Did you have gum? Are you eating it? Is it in your mouth? Open your mouth, so I can see. AAAHHHHHH. SAY "AHHHHHH, MOM!"
"GEORGE! Get OUT of my pockets!" "Get OUT of my van!"
I literally get all but frisked for gum nearly daily. If it is present, he nicely hands it out to friends, neighbors, his siblings. (With the usual exception of Joe...) and then chews the rest. He will find my keys and unlock the van, in his quest for chewing gum. He needs an intervention.
Also, we are at the time of year when all the neighbors are outside all the time. Which means that George is MIA most of the time, as he makes the rounds between his friends all within 4 houses, including ours. It is not uncommon to find me standing on the front porch hollering for him. Before we all get all 'OMG, WHAT A BAD MOM, WHAT IF KIDNAPPING???!!!!!!!" Relax. There are parents all over the place, and we have a general idea he is either in the back yard next door, or 2 houses down at his other friend's house. Honestly, I have had a hard time keeping that child home since he was 2.
Or, there is the usual swarm of assorted neighbors and/or children on my porch, on my steps, in my lawn, or running through my house. I never know from day to day who will be at my house. Sometimes, we have the "Porch Party" which is never planned, but always well attended and always a lot of fun. Essentially, everyone gathers in the vicinity of our porch, with or without a libation of choice, and just visits, while all 900 kids run around in the light of street lamps and porch twinkle lights. Now, with the addition of a new front garden, surrounded by a brick raised garden, there will be even more places for the neighbors to sit, while we all visit in the front yard. Honestly, I love it.
My gardens! This year, I Pinterested the daylights out of gardening ideas, but, mostly needed to come up with a use for lots of bricks rescued from a local business building reno last summer. I knew I wanted a raised garden bed. I fell in love with the one at our church last summer, and decided on the spot that I needed raised garden beds. However, I think the church has an edge on me. Because it's a church, and because a Nun takes care of it. I think it's sort of obligated to be perfect. Still. Poor Bearded Man has no idea what's in store for him. There are still lots of bricks....
Anyhow, this weekend, weather and time permitting, I am planting the daylights out of the new garden. Also, I have decided to turn a rusty old radio flier wagon into a planter.
All this will occur between baseball and tee ball games, and a birthday party to take Lexi to. The party of a young man that she has had in her class nearly every year. He stopped by the house recently to inform us that he DID NOT like Lexi "That way" and, just as a FRIEND. Which Lexi shot back was FINE, because another boy had given her fresh picked flowers on the playground just that day, so, THERE!" Anyhow, it will probably be a busy weekend.
Anyhow, I realize this isn't the most amazing Blog ever, but, it's life in a nutshell around here. To wrap it up: Only ONE job for the summer! George has a weird gum addiction, and I refuse to enable it. (Or share), I need a cleaning lady, and nearly had a breakdown because someone I know has one and I do NOT, I have gardens that will look great for about a month, and then I will run out of time to weed them, but, I must continue to add MORE gardens, and, Lexi has to go to a birthday party of a boy who came to our house and informed us that she is JUST his FRIEND.
Hahaha! Have a great weekend!
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