Even if your second floor bathroom faces the woods and you have complete privacy from neighbors, you should invest in some sort of shade or blind on your window before you have strapping young men scaling the side of your house to put on a new roof. Definitely complete this task before you need to tinkle.
You're welcome.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Exit
As a child, I traveled very frequently. I think it irritated my teachers that I often missed a Friday or Monday school day because I was in Hawaii. My father worked for a major airline and we flew standby back in the day when there were plenty of empty seats. Most of the time, we flew first class, so by the time I was about eight years old, I was use to enjoying a pre-flight beverage and a hot towel after takeoff. Long flights always included a made to order sundae. More hot fudge please. While I could tolerate coach if I had to, we often scheduled trips around empty flights to ensure flying with style. My dad planned, my mom packed. My biggest responsibility was to pick books out for vacation. Traveling was awesome!
Now, it's, uh, different. I can't remember the last time I flew first class. I'm herded like cattle to the back of the plane with not so much as a bag of peanuts. Those headphones for $2 gross me out. Who knows when the last time those blankets have been washed? And I would never put my head on those pillows. I try not to gag when Clingmonkey touches the tray and then sticks her finger in her mouth.
With flights packed, , grumpy old men who complain about babies on my lap kicking their seats, hour long security lines, Clingmonkey refusing to switch time zones, spilled juice on strangers' laps, laptop batteries that die hours before flights are over, I have major travel anxiety. It usually starts the week before our departure and escalates until I'm a raging beeotch by the time we head for the airport. My husband won't so much as utter a word at the ticket counter in fear that my head will start spinning and I'll bite someone's head off. Most likely his.
This trip, I vowed would be different. I would embrace the difficulty of it all and just go with the flow. No more over-reacting or attempting to control the uncontrollable for me! Look at me. I'm evolving!
But then the airline changed our flights so we had to leave the house at 4am to make the flight. And our return home included a 3 hour layover in Newark so that we wouldn't get home until nearly midnight (about 6 hours past Clingmonkey's normal bedtime). Crying to the customer service (and I use that term very loosely) did not motivate her to help us out. When she told me that all airlines were cutting flights and didn't I watch the news, I proudly restrained myself from dropping the f bomb. Then, both girls got croup. Mini-me had middle of the night stridor so severe, she needed steroids. I contracted pinkeye at the pediatrician's office and had to go to an evening clinic the next day when green yuck began to continually ooze from my eye (good news though. The PA assured me it wasn't herpes!). The roof they promised to complete in one day is now on day three. I have not packed a thing. The baskets in the laundry room are full, and Little P just pointed out he was swollen glands and his throat hurts. I may or may not have snapped on MyBeloved this evening for not pressing DVD player buttons fast enough.
And so concludes my quest for traveling zen. I'm going to close my eyes now and pretend a flight attendant is asking me if I'd prefer steak or lobster tail. I can hear the clink of those mini booze bottles now.
See ya after the 4th.
Now, it's, uh, different. I can't remember the last time I flew first class. I'm herded like cattle to the back of the plane with not so much as a bag of peanuts. Those headphones for $2 gross me out. Who knows when the last time those blankets have been washed? And I would never put my head on those pillows. I try not to gag when Clingmonkey touches the tray and then sticks her finger in her mouth.
With flights packed, , grumpy old men who complain about babies on my lap kicking their seats, hour long security lines, Clingmonkey refusing to switch time zones, spilled juice on strangers' laps, laptop batteries that die hours before flights are over, I have major travel anxiety. It usually starts the week before our departure and escalates until I'm a raging beeotch by the time we head for the airport. My husband won't so much as utter a word at the ticket counter in fear that my head will start spinning and I'll bite someone's head off. Most likely his.
This trip, I vowed would be different. I would embrace the difficulty of it all and just go with the flow. No more over-reacting or attempting to control the uncontrollable for me! Look at me. I'm evolving!
But then the airline changed our flights so we had to leave the house at 4am to make the flight. And our return home included a 3 hour layover in Newark so that we wouldn't get home until nearly midnight (about 6 hours past Clingmonkey's normal bedtime). Crying to the customer service (and I use that term very loosely) did not motivate her to help us out. When she told me that all airlines were cutting flights and didn't I watch the news, I proudly restrained myself from dropping the f bomb. Then, both girls got croup. Mini-me had middle of the night stridor so severe, she needed steroids. I contracted pinkeye at the pediatrician's office and had to go to an evening clinic the next day when green yuck began to continually ooze from my eye (good news though. The PA assured me it wasn't herpes!). The roof they promised to complete in one day is now on day three. I have not packed a thing. The baskets in the laundry room are full, and Little P just pointed out he was swollen glands and his throat hurts. I may or may not have snapped on MyBeloved this evening for not pressing DVD player buttons fast enough.
And so concludes my quest for traveling zen. I'm going to close my eyes now and pretend a flight attendant is asking me if I'd prefer steak or lobster tail. I can hear the clink of those mini booze bottles now.
See ya after the 4th.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Eat Local- Week 3
You know you have good eaters for children when they request chard in their eggs. I made these with eggs, butter, milk, and cheese I bought from a new market that sells only local goods. To make the chard extra yummy and kid friendly, I boiled it a few minutes, then sautéed it in butter, and sprinkled it with Parmesan cheese. Not the most artery loving meal, but gobbled up nonetheless. Right now, I'm getting mostly greens from my CSA. I'm hoping in the coming weeks to add more variety. There's only so much I can do with chard and lettuce with my limited cooking skills.
We have family visiting from away, so posting will be light or non-existent this week. Next Sunday, we leave for our family trip out west, so I'll be MIA next week as well. I love it/hate it when life gets in the way of blogging.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
The day before
Today was the last day before summer that all three children were deposited at their respective schools. I had planned to spend my morning all by my lonesome getting tasks done around the house- mopping floors, cleaning toilets, paying bills. Jealous?
Suddenly, on the way to drop my last automobile occupant, Clingmonkey, off I was seized with genius. I called and got a last minute appointment for a pedicure. In a massage chair. Then I booked a babysitter for the evening, so My Beloved and I could go out to dinner and stroll hand in hand in a big box hardware store picking out tile for a backsplash. Feel the romance.
After a quiet dinner that involved uninterrupted conversation, then debating the differences between recycled glass and travertine, I sent My Beloved home to ensure all children were asleep while I grocery shopped alone. I did not buy any Dora snacks or deny requests for sugar cereal. After I finish this, I'm going to zone out in front of A Farmer Wants A Wife.
A year ago, it wouldn't have crossed my mind to spend use my childless time like this. This year, I realize I shouldn't feel a bit guilty for treating myself so nicely. I bet despite my raging PMS, I am a better mother tomorrow. Bring on the summer.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Small moment of panic
I have read lots of books on keeping childhood simple. As I eluded to in a previous post, I live in an area that's big on keeping kids crazily busy- art classes, music class, swim lessons, t-ball, baseball, soccer, gymnastics, karate, ballet, scouts, science class, yada, yada, yada. I must admit that when I was home with just Little Professor, I made sure we had an activity everyday. I enjoyed getting out of the house and connecting with other adults, and I reasoned I was nurturing his inquisitive mind. Then when the girls came along, I cut back tremendously in order to rein protective of the all important nap schedule. Then I read here and here and here (this is the book I'm reading for Green Bean this month) that staying home and just chillin' was the best thing for them.
Our summer starts on Thursday at 1pm. We have family visiting the first week, a trip to visit family the second week, and then nothing but long, lazy summer days stretched out in front of us. We were invited to an event on Friday I want to avoid, so I needed to plan something special for our first full day so I'd have a good excuse to decline. Normally, I'd just declare it a beach day and throw a bucket and pail in the ol' minivan, but Friday's forecast calls for rain. I had to put on my thinking cap. Which proved to be just slightly dangerous.
I thought of zero. Waves of anxiety rolled through me as absolutely nothing came to mind. I could not think of one day trip that would make all three children happy and did not call for several hours in the car. And because I don't blow things out of proportion, I stayed up to 2 am worrying about not only what we could do on Friday but for the entire summer. Screw lazy summer days, we need activity. Otherwise, I'd find myself suffering through whining and fighting and pleads for television. Oh my god. What was I thinking? My summer plan seriously sucked. I only got a few hours sleep with the help of a little friend I like to call Ambien.
The next morning while I gulped my third cup of coffee in ten minutes and waited for the bus, I muttered to Little Professor we needed something to do on Friday. He immediately suggested a hokey local nature park we have never been visited but is a mere 20 minutes away. Perfect. I had completely forgotten about that place. What I mulled over for nearly 4 hours, he solved in less than 2 seconds.
"But then let's just stay home. I miss being home."
Duh. Sometimes, you don't need to read a book to remind you what you know in your heart is true. You just need to listen to the wisdom of your 7 year old.
Our summer starts on Thursday at 1pm. We have family visiting the first week, a trip to visit family the second week, and then nothing but long, lazy summer days stretched out in front of us. We were invited to an event on Friday I want to avoid, so I needed to plan something special for our first full day so I'd have a good excuse to decline. Normally, I'd just declare it a beach day and throw a bucket and pail in the ol' minivan, but Friday's forecast calls for rain. I had to put on my thinking cap. Which proved to be just slightly dangerous.
I thought of zero. Waves of anxiety rolled through me as absolutely nothing came to mind. I could not think of one day trip that would make all three children happy and did not call for several hours in the car. And because I don't blow things out of proportion, I stayed up to 2 am worrying about not only what we could do on Friday but for the entire summer. Screw lazy summer days, we need activity. Otherwise, I'd find myself suffering through whining and fighting and pleads for television. Oh my god. What was I thinking? My summer plan seriously sucked. I only got a few hours sleep with the help of a little friend I like to call Ambien.
The next morning while I gulped my third cup of coffee in ten minutes and waited for the bus, I muttered to Little Professor we needed something to do on Friday. He immediately suggested a hokey local nature park we have never been visited but is a mere 20 minutes away. Perfect. I had completely forgotten about that place. What I mulled over for nearly 4 hours, he solved in less than 2 seconds.
"But then let's just stay home. I miss being home."
Duh. Sometimes, you don't need to read a book to remind you what you know in your heart is true. You just need to listen to the wisdom of your 7 year old.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
One Local Summer- Week Two and a shout out to Chile
This week, I bought locally raised and processed beef for $4.19/pound. Since My Beloved is a meat and potatoes man, I made meatloaf, with mashed potatoes, and a big green salad. If anyone has tips on getting lettuce to last longer, please kindly leave me instructions in the comments. I loved my fresh greens from the CSA this week, but they were all wilty messes within 3 days. I either need to eat nothing but salad for 3 days or find a better way to store it.
This was dessert- a wild blueberry pie from a local baker. I'm assuming the blueberries were frozen from last year because my blueberries are not anywhere near harvest worthy quite yet.
Also, I'm happy to report that I only ran errands twice last week. I used a babysitter and basically knocked out five errands in less than three hours on Tuesday. Very, very efficient. I'm using the same plan this week as well. School is out on Thursday, so I believe it'll be easier to stick to the plan. Thanks, Chile, for the inspiration!
Saturday, June 14, 2008
But it gets worse
After Little Professor was devastated by the absence of the tooth fairy, I suggested he write her a little note and place the tooth in a prominent place so she wouldn't miss it.
Guess what happened?
Oh, yes, we blew it again! Clingmonkey decided to have nightmare (maybe night terror because she was just shrieking inconsolably) after nightmare (probably worried the tooth fairy would never come for her), and we were continually dashing into her room and rocking her from 10pm till midnight. Somehow in the midst of our helplessness in getting her to rest peacefully, we forgot our duties. The second I opened my eyes the next morning, I realized our error, grabbed a dollar, and tiptoed down the hall.
Too late. There Little P was holding his note with sad puppy dog eyes. How could the tooth fairy miss him again?
Lucky for him, his disappointment paid off. The tooth fairy finally showed up the next night with a five spot- way, way more than she usually leaves, teaching our child the lesson that guilt pays and pays big.
Guess what happened?
Oh, yes, we blew it again! Clingmonkey decided to have nightmare (maybe night terror because she was just shrieking inconsolably) after nightmare (probably worried the tooth fairy would never come for her), and we were continually dashing into her room and rocking her from 10pm till midnight. Somehow in the midst of our helplessness in getting her to rest peacefully, we forgot our duties. The second I opened my eyes the next morning, I realized our error, grabbed a dollar, and tiptoed down the hall.
Too late. There Little P was holding his note with sad puppy dog eyes. How could the tooth fairy miss him again?
Lucky for him, his disappointment paid off. The tooth fairy finally showed up the next night with a five spot- way, way more than she usually leaves, teaching our child the lesson that guilt pays and pays big.
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