I thought I’d take the weekend to get a handle on the fifty thousand aspects of my life which are slowly spinning out of my grasp, and then by tonight I’d be feeling so much more in control of everything.
(Also, a blind man walks into a bar. He says, “Ouch!”)
Anyway, I stepped away from the computer for two whole days, and my life is still… well… whatever it is. So apparently I cannot blame any of my current issues on blogging. Which is too bad, because 1) that would be easy to fix and 2) it’s always entertaining to read someone blogging about blogging, or, alternatively, reading the phone book.
I have a new leaky pipe. Rather, it’s been a bit leaky for a while and I was trying to WILL it into behaving. And while my magical powers appear to extend to real estate listings, they are all tapped out when it comes to the plumbing here at Ye Olde Money Pit. Despite my best efforts and eleventy trips down to the basement to check on the status of said pipe, it’s STILL LEAKING. Bastard.
For those keeping score at home, this would make my third plumbing issue in as many months. I’m not saying that God hates me, I’m just saying I think I may have pissed him off.
In other news, if you are a friend of mine, you have two choices in how to interact with me right now. If you live far away and haven’t been in touch for a long time, this weekend was your time to call me out of the blue and catch up. As a bonus, if you’re in the hospital, this will score you a care package from me. Nothing says “Gosh I really do love you and miss you and feel badly that we haven’t talked for six months and that now you’re stuck in the hospital” than a box full of cheesy novels and bright red nail polish.
If you’re a local friend of mine, I missed the memo (I am always missing these important announcements, dammit), but now that I have about four months left before The Big Move, it’s time to blow me off. I mean, why wait until I’m gone? Let’s just start avoiding each other now. That’s easier than dealing with any pesky feelings, after all.
(Yes, I know they love me. Yes, I know this may be temporary. No, I am not particularly feeling the love right now.)
Today after church I took the kids to see Bridge to Terabithia, which became an all-day extravaganza. The problem was that we were meeting a friend of Chickadee’s there, and a friend of Monkey’s was being dropped here at the house.
Monkey hasn’t had a playdate in a really long time, mostly because his behavior has been so unpredictable this year. And the excitement of having a friend! Come to the house! And then to the movies! With us! Well, it nearly caused his adorable little brain to implode. Fortunately for him—unfortunately for me—Monkey’s friend is a kindred spirit: the two of them bounced off the walls here at home until we got into the car.
There was a brief scuffle as we got everyone situated. Chickadee sat in the center seat. That’s a small space, anyway, but between two boosters it requires a bit of a contortion act to get belted in, there. (And when I have three kids in the car, and two boosters, the oldest child sits in the middle while the younger ones stay in the boosters. This is completely logical, but can be problematic when two hyper boys are separated only by an irritated older sister.)
Me: Okay, is everyone buckled?
Friend of Monkey: This is very crowded. You should consider a minivan.
Me: Ummm, yes, well, ordinarily I only have two kids in here. And minivans are expensive.
Monkey: I have a dinosaur! ROAR!
FoM: Can I see it, Monkey?
Monkey: Sure! *Monkey passes it over by making the dino walk across Chickadee’s head*
Chickadee: Can we have some music, please?
FoM: Let’s pretend he’s like those guys in Star Wars!
Chickadee: He doesn’t even know what you’re talking about. We haven’t SEEN Star Wars.
FoM: AaaaAAAArrrGGHHHH *walks the dinosaur across Chickadee’s head back to Monkey*
Monkey: This dinosaur says something SMELLS here inbetween us. *pokes Chickadee*
FoM: Yeah, what IS that? *pokes Chickadee*
Me: Boys, hands to yourselves, please.
Chickadee: Can you turn the music up, please?
*the boys gesture to each other and then simultaneously start poking Chickadee in the head*
Chickadee: This is not enjoyable.
Everyone did make it to the theater alive. Barely.
After the movie, Chickadee went home with her friend to play for a while, and Monkey and I dropped his friend at home with promises to have an at-home playdate sometime soon.
And because I went out of my way to make it a really nice day for the kids—even spending a million dollars on actual! movie! theater! popcorn!—both of them told me how much they love me and how grateful they are. Monkey did so by complaining that he was “so bored” about two minutes after we dropped his friend off, and Chickadee had a full-fledged meltdown here at home where her head spun around and she levitated while I tried to tie her to the bed. It was simply lovely. What a wonderful reminder that no good deed goes unpunished!
So, somehow, that was the weekend. Throw in four loads of laundry and a bit of cleaning, and there you have it. Also I went to bed at 9:30 last night and slept until 8:00 this morning. Almost like I was really tired, or something. Go figure.
Oh, I did do one more thing this weekend. I bought Chickadee a wedding dress. Er, not a dress for her to get married in. That would probably be creepy. A dress for her to wear while I get married. It’s going to look stunning against the jeans and t-shirt I’ll be wearing.
God bless the mothers. Bless God that I am not one.
Chickadee: This is not enjoyable.
^ Amazing control she has.
control and focus! all chickadee wants is her music, dammit! a girl after my own heart:)
Glad you survived. Of course Chickadee’s head spun once yall were home! I mean come on! It had obviously been loosened up by from all the poking by M and FOM! :) Now get those kids back to school pronto, so that you and your lovely leaky pipe can have some quiet time together.
Yeah…I really need to get some sleep, I am giddy.
She’s a pistol ;-) “this is not enjoyable.” I love it!
I think sitting in between a little brother and buddy would be more than my patience could take, so kudos to Chickadee for that. And many more to you for getting through the rest of the chores!
So how was the movie? That was one of my favorite books as a kid.
As for the pipe, beat it into submission. It works with my kids I mean pipes! Pipes. Definitely meant pipes.
That’s the way it always works – we indulge and they implode…
Hey, Chickadee was a good girl, she waited until you were home!
. . . and, you found jeans!?
Okay, if Chickie really did say “this is not enjoyable” I may have to come and put her in my pocket and bring her home with me.
Okay, so it doesn’t help now, but when you move to my area of town(!!), I know a great plumber to help with leaking pipes!
Bless Chickadee’s little heart…squished between Monkey and FoM. If music is all that she requested, then it’s all good. Nothing that a little hot-buttered popcorn can’t solve!
Poor Chickadee. I can see why she had a meltdown. Nice of her to wait until home though. We need wedding dress pictures soon!
Wow. No wonder we moms are always tired! I LOVED this line: —— Chickadee had a full-fledged meltdown here at home where her head spun around and she levitated while I tried to tie her to the bed. —- why do they always levitate at moments like these???
Chickadee almost DESERVES a meltdown after her head got poked! I do love that girl. “This is not enjoyable.” She’s the queen of understatement, isn’t she?
I love Chickadee’s sense of the profound in the understated: This is not enjoyable. Har, snort! Funny.
That’s amazing. Your kids and mine know the same language. For example, “Thanks Mom!” comes out as temper tantrums and complaining. Also? “I love you” tends to be heard as “I never get to do anything, ever. It’s not fair.” as we’re leaving the movie theater.
*thinking – were there dinosaurs in Star Wars?*
How is it possible that you have TWO kids and I only have ONE (plus a hubby) and yet I have waaaaaaaaaaaay more than four loads of laundry?!?!? *jealousy leaking from every pore*
Echoing PP, your Chickadee has much more self-control than I do. “This is not enjoyable.” ROFL!
The jeans and t-shirt you’ll be wearing.
Kids and meltdowns are the reason for every gray hair on my head..and I’d love to say it gets better…but my teenagers meltdowns are more frequent than my toddler.
I think it took a lot of restraint on Chickadees part not to hit both boys.
That is always the way here too. SOmetimes I think I just can’t be so nice to them ;-)
It NEVER get easier…it just get different.
And I agree that we are sorely lacking in pictures here….Must.see.the.dress…
Grandparenthood is something to look forward to, kind of like a reward for good parenting, so put in that light you have big treats instore.
Your kids haven’t seen Star Wars? Are you trying to deprive them of the wonderfulness of Star Wars? And I am referring to Episodes IV, V, and VI. I, II, and III were tolerable. Wookiees and Ewoks and Banthas, Oh My! Have I ever mentioned my crush on R2D2?
MMM Buttered popcorn
“This is not enjoyable.” How old is Chickadee, 9 going on 20? She is a total Big Sister.
Hey, if you found a pair of jeans that make your bee-hind look good, you should totally get married in those. Everybody is staring at your backside anyways.
Oh, and I complained about the blind man joke. But I can’t be offended, not when my blind son (age 15) tells jokes like that (and not much funnier) all the time.
So the bickering gets two thumbs down, but how was the movie? I *loved* that book as a kid, so much so that I’m a little afraid to see the film. I hope they didn’t mess it up.
Every time I think what a good mother I am, and we’ve just done something extra special that I am SURE will be a childhood memory when they grow up, I get brought back down to earth by my kids. Their way of saying thnaks, I guess, but just a plain old “thank you” would suffice.
“This is not enjoyable.”
HAHHAHAHHAHA. What a kid, I tell ya. Then again, I probably don’t have to tell you, seeing as she’s your kid and all. What’s the dress look like?
“Chickadee: This is not enjoyable.”
I can think back (a looong way) to my own childhood where my sister & I could leave bloodstains inside the car if forced to sit together for more than about 30 seconds…….. (if you were ever unfortunate enough to meet her you would understand why, I promise…… think female Monkey plus sociopathic tendencies, with a dash of rabies thrown in……).
C & M are doing fine by comparison, I promise you!
Can’t. Stop. Laughing.
That’s with you, right? Right???