Woman with Kids

My summer vacation: Day Two

2008-08-19T13:52:00.002-05:00

Or, I am a wild and crazy girl.

First thing Monday morning, I had a dentist appointment, or Torture 101. Then we spent the afternoon going through the boys' clothing, getting ready for Back to School Shopping, or hell on earth. Then we hit the skateboard park and then did a little Hell on Earth, erm, back to school shopping. Then we went home and I prepared a lovely meal at which the boys politely asked if they could have mac n cheese instead.

Today, the furnace guy came and tinkered with my furnace and gave me the usual lecture on that my furnace chimney is unlined, I should get it lined, it should only run me about $1,800.00. *faint* I'll get right on that, after I get a new roof and win the lottery, in reverse order. After that, we baked fresh bread from frozen dough (give me a break people, actually dough making? *snort*) because nothing says summer vacation like fresh baked bread smothered in butter. After that and a long round of one of our favorite songs, "Have You Flossed/Brushed Your Teeth and Used the Fluoride Rinse?" (second verse: "No seriously, you were in there 12 seconds, go try again, for real this time), we hit the dentist for the boys' cleaning appointments. Where they sang their favorite song, "We think Boy 2 will need braces, off to the Expensive Doctor for You", sung a capella to add that special touch. They followed that up with a round of no cavities, but Boy 2 also needs sealants on his molars, let's have him in on Thursday.

We followed that up with another lively experience in Hell on Earth, erm, back to school shopping. This time, Boy 1 took on a rather interesting challenge. At the particular store we were at, they did not have skinny jeans (which he must have or he will die) in size 14. He is a size 14. He tried on the 12's, and then the challenge began. Can I convince Mom that even though the button is ready to pop off at any second, that these 12's fit me, or, failing that, can I convince Mom that these 16's, which I have to hold onto to keep them from falling down, fit me too? Also, I must convince Mom that the 14's she found in other styles, do not fit me at all. It's quite a challenge, and I give him points for creativity, but he failed.

To keep the week interesting, I have another dentist appointment tomorrow, thank you weak teeth, and then Boy 2's appointment on Thursday. So in a 5 day vacation, I'll be at the dentist 4 days in a row, and school shopping the rest of the time. Shoot me.

Finally, the sport I excel at!

2008-08-18T12:28:00.003-05:00

I was holding the couch down this morning, reading. Boy 2 and Dog slowly, slyly, crawled their way over to me. Boy 2 pounced, wrapped his arms around my arms and whispered to "Hold very still." which I did. Or, continued to do.

After about 3 minutes of me continuing to read and Boy 2 continuing to hold my arms, and both of us holding as still as a 10 year old boy can, he told me, "You hold still very well, Mom. Nice job."

Yep, gold metal holder stiller right here folks!

Endless noise

2008-08-17T18:57:00.002-05:00

Oh people, help me. You see, the boys have been home for 1 hour and 43 minutes. And Boy 2 has Not Stopped Talking. Non stop. With the talking and the words and the noise and mumbling and the talking. For the love of shoes, make it stop.

I don't even think he's aware of most of it. Right now, we're staring like the good potatoes we are at the TV while Boy 1 plays nintendoplaystationboy thingy. And Boy 2? Talking. Mumbling. Muttering. Exclaiming. Narrating. Fucking endlessly. My ears are bleeding.

It's going to be a long night. Do you think a small bucket of margaritas would make him quieter? I mean for me, of course. I'm sure a bucket of margaritas would only make him louder.

Freedom comes with a price

2008-08-16T16:43:00.003-05:00

The boys are with their dad tonight. I'm here, free as a bird. So being the free wheeling young woman I am, I sat down to tackle my long ignored budget. And remembered there is a very good reason it was ignored.

It just doesn't work. The incoming does not meet the outgoing, even if I pare down non-necessities like cable and internet. Actually, those were the only two non-necessities. And since I need television like I need air, they're only borderline non-necessity, borderline take it away and you will suffer.

The problem is, if I have absolutely no unexpected expenses, and keep the grocery bill down, I'm about $375 short for the month. I'm looking for a part time job, but apparently so is everyone else. The only part time jobs I'm finding right now are for part time, during the day. There are lots of them, so I'm going to assume most people are independently weathly looking for something to keep the occupied from 1-5, four days a week. Because those are the only jobs out there. And they do me no good, as I'm at work from 1-5, more than four days a week.

Urg. Each month, my credit cards go up a little more, and I hate that. It scares the crap out of me. And I wasn't able to get my roof replaced, because, hello, roofes are made out of gold covered in oil covered in other expensive things, and there was just no way. I see that biting me in the ass this winter. Crap. Crap.

Ahem. Going to enjoy my "free" night, as it's the only thing I can afford.

Very foul words

2008-08-14T21:15:00.001-05:00

That's what I send to you, Warner Brothers. Foul, bad curse words of extreme ...badness. Why? Why would you do this? Do you hate me? Do you not realize how very much I was looking forward to the next film?

You stink.

Very Unaffectionately,

Me.

Counting

2008-08-12T17:01:00.002-05:00

I'm doing a lot of counting right now. No, not budget related, I'm completely ignoring that whole mess.

I have three days, 24 working hours, until I am on vacation. Since this is my first year at this job, I only have one little tiny pathetic week of vacation. At my former job, I was up to three weeks. But, I will take my one week and squeeze in getting ready for school, two dentist appointments, getting the furnace cleaned and all kinds of similar fun things. The best part? I don't have to get up early. I'm going to treasure that, even as my internal clock is a bitch and wakes me up early anyways. The point is, I don't have to get up. So there.

We have exactly two weeks until the heathens are back in school. No more hearing "I hate day camp, this stinks" and onto "I hate school, this stinks." Ah, I can't wait.

Lastly, we have seven days until we've been in our home three years. I know that's not much, but I'm proud of home, in part because I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to have an actual house to call home, and now I do and well, each day is awesome. Except the day I have to pay the mortgage. That day requires getting blood from a stone or wine from a turnip or robbing Peter to pay Paul, and darnit, Peter gets so touchy about that. Whatever. It's mine all mine, or at least .00002% is, and I love it.

Next weekend's plans

2008-08-10T19:52:00.002-05:00

I forgot, that's my only excuse. I went grocery shopping on a Sunday, even though I know that is the equivalent of hell on earth with temper tantrums thrown in.

Today? At the grocery store? I kid you not, there were 15 kids that I desperately wanted to walk - while holding their earlobes - to their parents. And wanted to walk - while holding their earlobes - said parents outside or at least near their children that were busy wrestling, running, fighting, literally throwing food items onto the floor and all sorts of lovely demonic behaviors. Five different kids ran into my cart while running around. Five. One was actually pushing his family's cart and then rammed it into my cart. He pulled back, and I believe was gearing up for a second go when I Glared At Him. I have a good glare, I try to only use it on special occasions. I was only there 30 minutes, at most. Most likely less, because by the time I hit the dairy area I was completely fed up and snarling at everyone in sight - I'm looking at you, lady who kept stopping her cart dead center of the aisle and just staring at the bread. IT'S BREAD. Pick up a freaking loaf before I bean one or twelve at your freaking head.

Somehow I missed the memo that it is proper behavior to unleash your heathens on the grocery store on Sundays, and I'm sorry for that. Lord knows I have heathens that would love to be unleashed, with all the makings of a glorious food fight right at hand, and I'm sorry that they have missed out on this opportunity to create bedlam and chaos. I will do my best to make up for this oversight next weekend.

I get extra points for not grounding him

2008-08-07T19:46:00.001-05:00

Or beating him with a wet noodle.

Tonight, Boy 2 and I were goofing around. And he slapped me on my behind. And then laughed.

"Mom! When I hit your butt, it sounds like Jello!"

Really, my restraint is admirable.

How to avoid that awkwardness at the end

2008-08-05T17:03:00.002-05:00

Or, How to date like an idiot.

Or, Me.

So, I had a First Date the other night. It wasn't bad. Wasn't great, but not bad. As in, he'd be fun to hang out with, but I didn't really feel any attraction. My friends (married friends, I might point out, who have not been single and dating in at least 10 years) very helpfully tell me I am too picky. And, I admit, I'm still probably somewhat a little greatly hung up on Stupid Exboyfriend.

Ahem. Anyways, that awkwardness at the end. Where you both walk to your cars, and then what? Kiss? Shake hands? Hug?

Well, if you're me, you say "ThanksIhadaniceevening!" and run to my car. Because I am mature and suave like that.

Signs I'm ready for Grays Anatomy to come back on

2008-07-28T18:35:00.000-05:00

1. I say 'seriously' all the time. Seriously.

2. I dreamt about going to a hospital.

3. I've been adding 'Mc' to everything. Seriously. As in, "Boy 1, you'd better get your McHinney over here and stop torturing your brother right now. Seriously."

4. I hate the reruns. Hate.

5. The gossip about Izzie leaving or dying or whatnot is killing me. Stop it. Do not fuck with my show people, you finally got your heads out of your behinds and got Meredith and McDreamy back together. Now, just fix things with Izzie and George as friends (because, god, them together was painful to watch) and do something Christina. She's just kind of hanging out there and she is far too wonderfully bitchy to not use her full potential. Seriously.

6. I have to urge to hang around our local hospital and watch for drama.

Poor, pitiful me

2008-07-27T07:58:00.002-05:00

So yesterday we went to our friend's annual cookout. It was a great time, hanging out, enjoying the weather, naked Dog ran wild. The only problem? The food.

You see, the cookout had everything. It had salad, but I can't eat salad dressing, because with the exception of one brand and specific flavor (which I forgot to bring, because I am a dumbass), they all have garlic in them. The hot dogs and burgers, have garlic in them. The bratwurst, the same. The potato salad, macaroni salad and salsa. All. Have. Garlic. My friends very kindly grilled onions just for me. Without garlic.

So I was able to eat potato chips with grilled onions. Lovely.

How to wake up in 3.6 seconds

2008-07-23T18:08:00.002-05:00

Or, going batty.

This morning around 5, Dog and Cat enjoyed a rousing game of "lets run around the house and annoy mom to bits while she clings to sleep that is long gone." After an hour of this, I finally got my lazy arse out of bed, still a half hour early. I stumble into the bathroom, have a seat and then scream out "HOLY CRAP! which actually was pretty reserved considering what I wanted to say.

You see, in between my glass shower doors? There was a strange being. A bat. Squished in between the doors, apparently trying to get away from Dog and Cat who had not been chasing each other, but had been chasing our surprise house guest.

After the boys got their peaks at it (cool! Can we keep it?) I grabbed some tupperware, closed the door and v e r y s l o w l y slid the back shower door open and slammedthetupperwareoverthebat. Then, to the delight of my neighbors, I'm sure, I raced out of the house, tupperware clutched in my hands, flung off the lid and hurled the tupperware - and bat - at the shrubs. Then tore off back to the house. In my bathrobe, at six in the morning. Aren't my neighbors lucky to have us here?

Surprise

2008-07-22T06:04:00.002-05:00

Last night, I tucked Boy 1 into bed, as usual. We talked about his day, I tried to avoid his stall tactics, and then he said this:

"I can't wait for school to start again."

And then I dropped dead. Because Boy 1? While smart, is not the most ...dedicated student. Unless you count his efforts to avoid his work, because then he is extremely dedicated. A lot.

I should have left it at that, but I have yet to learn to leave well enough alone. Turns out, he misses all that time to hang around with his friends. Shoulda known.

Boy 2isms

2008-07-16T18:14:00.000-05:00

I wandered into Boy 2's room tonight, feeling a little sad and missing my baby. And this big, orange poster caught my eye. It's a poster he made in school, at the beginning of this past year, so everyone could get to know each other.

It starts by listing things about him:

Favorite foods: Appals and ice cream

Favorite subject: math

Holiday: my bday

Something I do well: wach tv

Most important thing in my life: skate bording
Three words that describe me: fanny (I think he meant funny), anoyying and brate (bright?)

It goes on to talk about the future:

One goal I have for this year is to: lern more math. Lots and lots of math.

But my absolute favorite was this:

Twenty years from now I hope that I: dont rememer Megan.

Girl troubles, Boy 2?

If you happened to walk by my house

2008-07-15T16:47:00.004-05:00

and hear me screaming "KILL IT! KILL IT MORE DEAD THAN THAT! IT'S GOING TO EAT US IN OUR SLEEP FOR THE LOVE OF GOD KILL IT!"

It's because we found these:

Big ass hairy person killing freaking spiders which are going to kill us in our sleep - or worse - crawl into our mouths as we sleep. I may never, ever sleep again.

er, um, did I mention I loath spiders?

lazy ass

2008-07-12T15:40:00.002-05:00

I'm feeling lazy today. Not lazy as in I want to lie in the sun and relax, but lazy like, geez, breathing is such hard work.

I ran a few errands, but not half of what I needed to do. Haven't even gone grocery shopping. I did, however, make it to the library. I mean, there's lazy and then there's just plain dead. Obviously, I'm not there yet. But close.

So, I'm wasting a perfectly beautiful child free day, inside. Looking longingly at my bed, until I realized, Moron (my pet name) there is no reason you can't get your lazy ass into bed right now. Seriously. Your bed doesn't care that it's 3:30 in the afternoon. Dog might look at you funny, but he licks his own behind, so who is he to talk?

I resisted, but just barely. But I'm thinking an 8pm bedtime is on my schedule. If I can find the energy to get out the chair and all the way into bed. It's a hike, all the way from the living room to my bedroom. I just don't know if I have it in me.

Happy Camper continues

2008-07-12T13:13:00.002-05:00

I've received two letters from Boy 2 at camp. The first one telling me he's having a great time and loves it and has made friends and such. The second saying he kinda misses us, and could I tell Dog hi and send Boy 2 a picture of Dog, because he really misses Dog.

So I sent Boy 2 a picture of Dog, and tried to not sound too jealous when I told Dog, "he may want your picture, but he still addressed the letter to me." And refrained from driving straight to the camp because mah baby misses me!!!

See, I can be mature on rare occasions.

Too much heat at the wrong time.

2008-07-08T18:53:00.003-05:00

It is, I kid you not, at least 8,000,000 degrees. Hot. Hot and humid and hot. I live in Maine folks. I'm not a warm weather tropical heat muggy yuckiness kinda girl. (although, to be honest, I'm far too wimpy to like harsh Maine winters. Finicky, me?) It's hot and miserable and I can't bring myself to turn on the air conditioner because I sit here and think that in six months I would give away my first born, my left arm and leg and would still owe some to purchase oil to make the house half as warm and toasty as it is now, and I want to spend more money now to make it colder. Never happy.

To quiet my slightly irrational inner voice, Boy 1 and I had extra thick hot fudge shakes for dinner.

Happy camper

2008-07-06T19:35:00.002-05:00

Boy 2, my baby? He's gone to camp. Sleep over camp. Sleep over for 12 nights away from me the longest he's ever been away from me camp. It's evil.

He's been looking forward to going to camp for a while, and couldn't have been more excited. He kept going over all the fun things he's going to do, over and over and so help me god if doesn't actually go canoeing and hiking and everything he's been talking about for months now, someone will pay.

But first, 12 days? We got him to his cabin, introduced his counselors and said, oh look, all those boys are playing frisbee. And away he went. We forced him to hug us (Him, Her and I. The poor counselor had no idea who to look at when asking questions about Boy 2, since we all answered. Then Him decided three people was a bit of overkill, so he just stood there while Her and I answered questions. Parenting by committee.) We walked away while he joined the frisbee group. We walked slowly, he ran. We looked back, often. He did not. Not once. Him finally forced us to stop dragging our feet, but seriously, he could have pretended he'd miss us.

12 days is a very long time.

Unintended consequences

2008-07-01T17:28:00.002-05:00

Action: accidentally cutting 1" slice along the length of pinky finger, nicely across the side of the knuckle with butcher knife while cleaning it.

Good reaction: can't wash the dishes, gee darn.

Bad reaction: hurts to type. must type all day tomorrow at work. darn.

Good reaction: (temporary) truce in Boy 1's pissy behavior

Bad reaction: did I mention temporary?

Good reaction: don't have to wear bathing suit this friday, because I have this huge painful gash on my finger, I can't possibly go swimming in the ocean, hello, salt water?

Bad reaction: it hurts.

Specificity.

2008-06-28T17:08:00.006-05:00

I took Dog to have his hair cut today. You remember what Dog looks like, right? He's a golden retriever/chocolate lab mix. Picture a golden with chocolate brown hair.

They asked me what haircut I wanted for Dog. After staring at them for a minute (a bob? a farah fawcett flip? a mohawk?) I said, a summer haircut.

And away they went.

And they returned to me a naked mole rat.

Or Dog, I'm not sure. But he is naked.

Next time, I will specify a farah fawcett flip.

If bribery works, I'll stock up on treats

2008-06-28T05:52:00.002-05:00

Boy 1 did well all week. I'm not sure how to convey how huge this is. Even on his good days, it's a mix of snotty behavior and good behavior, but on good days the good behavior outweighs the snot.

This week? Almost completely void of snotty behavior. For that to happen for an entire day would be a big thing. For it to happen for five entire days, while watching his brother, on the week after school got out when transition is usually pretty rough for him, is fucking fantastic. Indescribably wonderful.

The deal was that if he does an ok job of watching his brother, he'd get $10. (why yes, I am cheap, it's called P-O-O-R.) If he didn't beat on his brother (seriously, I wasn't kidding), he'd get $20. And as an added incentive, if he did a great job, he might get a tip. He felt this was fair, I felt this was affordable, everyone was happy. I gave him $50 for the week, in part because I felt he earned it, and in part because I really, really wanted to impress upon him how impressed I was with him. And hopefully this behavior will stick around, or at least come back to visit. Often.

How to wake up in three seconds flat

2008-06-27T04:42:00.002-05:00

Open eyes at 4:23 a.m. *PING*

Inner (bitchy) voice says, slyly, "You didn't happen to mail out that really important document yesterday, did you?"

Say "CRAP". Out loud. Because no, I did not mail out that really important document yesterday. Fuck. Damnit.

Picture telling boss of my screw up.

Ty to not vomit.

Picture sneaking into work right now, in pjs, and mailing out document. But realize postage meter automatically updates and would still show document being mailed today and not yesterday as it was supposed to be you freaking fuckwit.

Picture breaking (brand spanking new all automatic stupid freaking fuckwit of a) postage meter.

Picture telling boss of my screw up.

Still trying to not throw up.

Take shower, wonder how long it takes between being fired and for them to repossess my car and foreclose on my house and ohmygod the boys and Dog and I will be homeless and we'll have to go live with my mother (not sure why her, but this is my panic session, I don't need to make sense) and then I'll be arrested for killing her because she drives me insane and my (former) boss will say, see, I knew she was bad, she didn't even remember to mail out my really important document.

Tear out hair and rend clothing. Collapse in heap on my bed, mourning what it was like before the Big Screw Up.

Then realize, crap. We're finishing that really important document today, which means I will be mailing it out this afternoon, not yesterday. Yesterday we finished a different really important document which did not have to be mailed out. I am an idiot. A still employed, very awake, shaky with relief and left over panic idiot.

It's going to be a long day.

Cybil times two

2008-06-26T06:07:00.003-05:00

You remember my lovely meeting from hell in which we trod on your ego and make you feel like an unworthy piece of ...gum on the bottom of my shoe? Yeah, that one.

This week? Complete opposite. Not that I'm complaining, but could we arrange a system of some sort? Something to let me know what to expect? Because this week, my bosses have spent the entire week praising me. All week. Not just a 'thanks' but 'great job on this' and 'that's perfect!' and all sorts of other positive things.

I love it, don't get me wrong, but perhaps a code so I know what's coming and don't stand there with my mouth hanging open in shock would be nice. Always an attractive look, that. It's like working for two Cybils, I just never know what's coming.

Pick your battle

2008-06-24T20:13:00.003-05:00

Last week was the end of school. Next week is daycamp. This week in between? Is the lost week wherein I completely forgot that there is nothing this week with which to tie up the boys, er, um, I mean, keep the boys occupied. So they are home, alone together.

I'm sure from my tales of woe regarding Boy 1, you understand my trepidation over leaving Boy 1 and Boy 2 and my house and Dog alone for the day, for an entire week. You can understand how I may spend many minutes at work wondering if my house is still standing. If Boy 2 has been sold to the gypsies yet. And if I will get a cut of that sale?

So far, I have been (to be honest) completely surprised. No fighting, no hurting, no bad tempers. Boy 1 has been great, even though Boy 2 has pulled the "you're not the boss of me" once or twice. I realize it's only two days into it, but still, two days of good behavior is great here. It's practically a record.

It also should have made me suspicious.

When getting ready for bed tonight, Boy 2 asked if he could sleep in the living room. This is a weekend treat, and I reminded him of that. He then said he couldn't sleep in his bed, so I offered to get him all tucked in the way he likes with his animals to help him get to sleep.

That wasn't the problem.

It seems my beloved heathens were hot this afternoon. And so played with the hose. (do you hear the scary music in the background?) Boy 2 got Boy 1 with the water, and when Boy 1 went to return the favor, Boy 2 ran in the house. Into his room, which is next to the back door. Which is next to the hose. So Boy 1 BROUGHT THE HOSE INSIDE. AND USED IT.

Anyone looking for a slightly damp mattress?

Boy 1 spent quite a while attempting to dry the mattress with my hair dryer, tonight. Not this afternoon, since their way of dealing with it then was to cover it with blankets. Brilliant. We had a long, nagging chat reminding them both that the hose belongs outside and should not come inside and water play (get your mind out of the gutter) belongs outside as well.

I suppose I'd prefer a wet mattress to anger and bludgeoning, but still.