Des had a bit of an off day at daycare. He was in a fine mood, played well with others, ate all his snacks and lunch. But the napping... oh the napping. His caretaker tried twice, but Des just cried and cried. We've been having some sleep issues recently. And coming off of a weekend always makes it worse.
Needless to say, his mood by the time he got home was less than desirable.
It had rained most of the day, but the skies finally cleared after dinner. As Des sat whining through another episode of Chuggington, I finally said, "He needs to get out and blow the stink off him."
"What, does he stink?" Tony said.
"No, he's been cooped up, he's cranky, he needs to run around in the fresh air. Blow the stink off of him."
He looked at me like I had two heads. I was shocked he had never heard this phrase. My mother must have said that EVERY DAY growing up, 'Get out and blow the stink off ya!' I assumed every mom said that. I plan on keeping the phrase alive.
As we put our shoes on, Tony said, "Okay Des, let's go outside and get that smell out."
I laughed. "It's blow the stink off!"
And as soon as we got out there, put Des down on the wet grass and let him run around the yard, he was a new boy. He was our boy.
This, my love, is what blowing the stink off looks like.
(Sorry for the skinny iPhone video. We have a flip. We should probably use it.)
Showing posts with label daily life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label daily life. Show all posts
Monday, August 8, 2011
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Summer Night
What a lovely night. There's a breeze wafting through the window sheers. It's nice to not have the hum of the AC in the background. I love the summer, but a cool evening is a welcome change.
Right now I'm half-watching a movie I've seen a dozen times already, my laptop on a pillow, and a glass of wine on the coffee table. Tony is in bed, finally home from a few days away for work, a long and exhausting stretch for the both of us. We don't do apart well.
Desmond is going through a rough patch with sleeping. Or not sleeping, as it were. It happens every once in a while. It will pass. It usually does within a week or two. Hopefully soon because my back is shot from laying on the floor next to his crib. Dealing with a rough patch like this alone, on top of all the other daily care taking, is draining. Then to end a tough day in big empty bed... well, I'm glad my husband is home.
Both my boys are resting quietly upstairs. I'll join them soon. And tomorrow it's back to the way things should be. Tony and I plugging away at our laptops on the dining room table as Des comes by with a train or a book, forcing us to take a needed break. I love Thursdays. I love my family.
Right now I'm half-watching a movie I've seen a dozen times already, my laptop on a pillow, and a glass of wine on the coffee table. Tony is in bed, finally home from a few days away for work, a long and exhausting stretch for the both of us. We don't do apart well.
Desmond is going through a rough patch with sleeping. Or not sleeping, as it were. It happens every once in a while. It will pass. It usually does within a week or two. Hopefully soon because my back is shot from laying on the floor next to his crib. Dealing with a rough patch like this alone, on top of all the other daily care taking, is draining. Then to end a tough day in big empty bed... well, I'm glad my husband is home.
Both my boys are resting quietly upstairs. I'll join them soon. And tomorrow it's back to the way things should be. Tony and I plugging away at our laptops on the dining room table as Des comes by with a train or a book, forcing us to take a needed break. I love Thursdays. I love my family.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Hunger Strike
It's 9:00am.
Things I have tried to feed my child today:
Things he has eaten:
-
Things he has thrown on the floor:
- See: Things I have tried to feed my child today
Things he would rather do than eat:
- Cry, whine, scream, etc.
- Figure out the child safety locks on every drawer in the house
- Play with cat toys
- Climb the stairs
- Watch Toy Story 2 for the 1 billionth time
Des is dealing with another cold accompanied by a fever, hence the lack of eating. We usually can't keep up with his massive appetite. His daycare provider, who has been taking care of kids for 16 years, says she's never seen a kid eat like he does. So this hunger strike is foreign and frustrating. I'm home with him today. We're just trying to survive on juice, Motrin, and as few tears (from either of us) as possible.
Send healthy, happy baby vibes our way!
Things I have tried to feed my child today:
- - waffle
- hash brown
- banana
- blueberries
- peaches
- blueberry muffin
- yogurt
- fruit puree
- shredded cheese
Things he has eaten:
-
Things he has thrown on the floor:
- See: Things I have tried to feed my child today
Things he would rather do than eat:
- Cry, whine, scream, etc.
- Figure out the child safety locks on every drawer in the house
- Play with cat toys
- Climb the stairs
- Watch Toy Story 2 for the 1 billionth time
Des is dealing with another cold accompanied by a fever, hence the lack of eating. We usually can't keep up with his massive appetite. His daycare provider, who has been taking care of kids for 16 years, says she's never seen a kid eat like he does. So this hunger strike is foreign and frustrating. I'm home with him today. We're just trying to survive on juice, Motrin, and as few tears (from either of us) as possible.
Send healthy, happy baby vibes our way!
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Slow Girl Buys a Smart Phone
Ladies and gentlemen, I have joined the world of the Smart Phone. Hey, I'm like 3 years late to the party. But what else is new. I'm slow, and I'm okay with that. Technology in general tends to make my eyes glaze over. And I am cheap as hell. So it's a miracle I'm not still carrying around that sad, heavy brick of a phone.
I went with the iPhone. It never entered my mind to even consider an iPhone until they jumped over to Verizon. Then the wheels started turning. A few weeks ago I finally made the plunge and I haven't looked back since.
Learning the touch pad has been slow going. At the store, the clerk kindly set up my email on my new phone. He asked me to type in my email address and password. That was embarrassing. It took 10 minutes and numerous swear words. When I turned to Tony and said, "Will you just do this?!" he was busy with Des. So there I went, plugging and cursing away. The sales guy barely blinked an eye at my sailor mouth. Must be used to it with us newbs.
Other than the learning curve with the typing, which is A LOT better now, I'm loving it so far. Learning all the ins and outs is going to take a while. The only non-standard apps I have right now are Facebook, something that locates sexual predators in our area, and Instagram, as seen here:
Shockingly, my new fancy phone is full of this face. Just trying to remember these times, when he's not yet embarrassed by his tech-dummy mom.
I went with the iPhone. It never entered my mind to even consider an iPhone until they jumped over to Verizon. Then the wheels started turning. A few weeks ago I finally made the plunge and I haven't looked back since.
Learning the touch pad has been slow going. At the store, the clerk kindly set up my email on my new phone. He asked me to type in my email address and password. That was embarrassing. It took 10 minutes and numerous swear words. When I turned to Tony and said, "Will you just do this?!" he was busy with Des. So there I went, plugging and cursing away. The sales guy barely blinked an eye at my sailor mouth. Must be used to it with us newbs.
Other than the learning curve with the typing, which is A LOT better now, I'm loving it so far. Learning all the ins and outs is going to take a while. The only non-standard apps I have right now are Facebook, something that locates sexual predators in our area, and Instagram, as seen here:
Shockingly, my new fancy phone is full of this face. Just trying to remember these times, when he's not yet embarrassed by his tech-dummy mom.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Another Unwelcome Visitor
One recent afternoon I was cuddling with Des on the couch as he drank his milk from a sippy cup, still groggy from his nap. When I heard something in the back... Neely in his cat box, maybe. Nah, it was different than that. Not so much scratching, but scurrying. Oh god. It was definitely scurrying, frantic and desperate.
"Tony! Neely's doing something."
That old familiar sound. There was a hunt in the house. Whether it was successful or not I would not know, because if you haven't learned by now, my eyes shut tight as soon as I recognize what's going on.
Tony quickly made his way to the back room as Des and I waited impatiently on the couch, our feet up off the floor. I was a little more used to this now, so I wasn't heading for zee hillz just yet. I knew the drill.
But then Tony came back sooner than expected, empty hands and an odd look on his face.
"Umm...."
"Oh god, what is it? Is something dead? Loose in the house? WHAT??"
"It's a bird."
"..."
"There's a bird in the closet. You guys should go upstairs."
WTF?
I grabbed Des and ran him upstairs. Of course there's a bird! Because if there's anything I hate worse than a mouse in my home, it's a goddamn bird ready to flap its wings in my hair and peck my eyes out and poop down my neck. I could think of only one thing worse (starts with B, ends with AT), and lemme just do the sign of the cross right now, because if that ever happens this house just might implode Poltergeist-style.
We waited it out in the bedroom. Who knows how long this would be. I knew Tony didn't have much of a plan. Why would he? Who prepares for this?
About 5 minutes later, Tony hollered upstairs, "It's okay now." I hesitantly opened our bedroom door to see Tony with the hood of his sweatshirt cinched tight around his face, wearing mismatched gloves and carrying a broom. My hero!
He walked me through what he did to get the thing out. To sum up, he pretty much just opened the back door and the bird flew out. My hubby has mad skills yo. He did manage to get a photo of that sucker, hiding out in the unfinished ceiling of our back room closet:
I know it's a little Sasquatch-esque, but do you see the profile? Way in the back? And the curtain to the left was what Neely was attempting to climb with his claws in order to get to it.
That bird is lucky it has wings.
"Tony! Neely's doing something."
That old familiar sound. There was a hunt in the house. Whether it was successful or not I would not know, because if you haven't learned by now, my eyes shut tight as soon as I recognize what's going on.
Tony quickly made his way to the back room as Des and I waited impatiently on the couch, our feet up off the floor. I was a little more used to this now, so I wasn't heading for zee hillz just yet. I knew the drill.
But then Tony came back sooner than expected, empty hands and an odd look on his face.
"Umm...."
"Oh god, what is it? Is something dead? Loose in the house? WHAT??"
"It's a bird."
"..."
"There's a bird in the closet. You guys should go upstairs."
WTF?
I grabbed Des and ran him upstairs. Of course there's a bird! Because if there's anything I hate worse than a mouse in my home, it's a goddamn bird ready to flap its wings in my hair and peck my eyes out and poop down my neck. I could think of only one thing worse (starts with B, ends with AT), and lemme just do the sign of the cross right now, because if that ever happens this house just might implode Poltergeist-style.
We waited it out in the bedroom. Who knows how long this would be. I knew Tony didn't have much of a plan. Why would he? Who prepares for this?
About 5 minutes later, Tony hollered upstairs, "It's okay now." I hesitantly opened our bedroom door to see Tony with the hood of his sweatshirt cinched tight around his face, wearing mismatched gloves and carrying a broom. My hero!
He walked me through what he did to get the thing out. To sum up, he pretty much just opened the back door and the bird flew out. My hubby has mad skills yo. He did manage to get a photo of that sucker, hiding out in the unfinished ceiling of our back room closet:
I know it's a little Sasquatch-esque, but do you see the profile? Way in the back? And the curtain to the left was what Neely was attempting to climb with his claws in order to get to it.
That bird is lucky it has wings.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Thing I Never Thought I'd Type
I just sent this update to Tony via instant message:
des ate his first booger
there was a big one on his cheek, i could see it when i went in to get him from his nap
but i couldn't wipe it right away cuz he was crying, so i just picked him up and rocked him for a bit
then when he lifted his head the boog was gone and there was something in his mouth
he had his 'new food face' on and then swallowed it before i could try to fish it out
then he drank all his milk
so i'll just count that as his snack
Life. It's wicked glamorous.
Checking out J.Crew, playing with necklaces, and eating shnoogs. What?
des ate his first booger
there was a big one on his cheek, i could see it when i went in to get him from his nap
but i couldn't wipe it right away cuz he was crying, so i just picked him up and rocked him for a bit
then when he lifted his head the boog was gone and there was something in his mouth
he had his 'new food face' on and then swallowed it before i could try to fish it out
then he drank all his milk
so i'll just count that as his snack
Life. It's wicked glamorous.
Checking out J.Crew, playing with necklaces, and eating shnoogs. What?
Sunday, February 27, 2011
A Writer's Worst Nightmare
I'm writing for an online newspaper now. Have I mentioned that? It's a community-driven news source in which many towns have a segment, called Patch. They were looking for moms in my town to give parenting tips and share their personal experiences, putting a local spin on it. I include my own photos, so Desmond is pretty much the star. Tony also got a little cameo this week.
My column is published on Sundays. I clicked over to see the article on the front page this morning (eee!) and as I glanced at the tag line below the heading, I noticed something. Horror of horrors, a TYPO. And not just any typo, it was a stray word in the middle of a sentence that had no business being there. If it was a misspelling or grammatical error, I could almost forgive myself. But this caused the very first sentence, the intro that everyone will see before even clicking on the column, to make no sense at all.
If I had accidentally exposed a nipple on a Christmas card, I would have been less embarrassed.
Frantically, I emailed the editor requesting he make the change. But something tells me his priorities are less aligned with mine on a Sunday morning. It's been an hour with no response. I keep refreshing the site to see if maybe he made the edit without replying to my email.
Oh the shame. My only excuse is the house full of sick, non-sleeping people I'm living in. My mind just aint right. I'll be spending the rest of the day internally chastising myself in a dark room.
For all to see, here is the writer's equivalent of a nip-slip:
My column
Main site for our town
**Edited to add... The editor fixed my slip up. Although there is another minor grammar mistake further in, I should be able to sleep tonight.
My column is published on Sundays. I clicked over to see the article on the front page this morning (eee!) and as I glanced at the tag line below the heading, I noticed something. Horror of horrors, a TYPO. And not just any typo, it was a stray word in the middle of a sentence that had no business being there. If it was a misspelling or grammatical error, I could almost forgive myself. But this caused the very first sentence, the intro that everyone will see before even clicking on the column, to make no sense at all.
If I had accidentally exposed a nipple on a Christmas card, I would have been less embarrassed.
Frantically, I emailed the editor requesting he make the change. But something tells me his priorities are less aligned with mine on a Sunday morning. It's been an hour with no response. I keep refreshing the site to see if maybe he made the edit without replying to my email.
Oh the shame. My only excuse is the house full of sick, non-sleeping people I'm living in. My mind just aint right. I'll be spending the rest of the day internally chastising myself in a dark room.
For all to see, here is the writer's equivalent of a nip-slip:
My column
Main site for our town
**Edited to add... The editor fixed my slip up. Although there is another minor grammar mistake further in, I should be able to sleep tonight.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Never a Dull Moment
Before the whole Sleep Strike 2011 began, we had another eventful evening recently.
In the middle of the night, Tony and I were abruptly awakened by Neely. It was not unusual that he was in our room, as he is free to come and go as he pleases. But we typically can't hear him. He is a dainty fellow, light on his feet and silent. You can't hear him coming unless he lets out one of his soft little "mew"s.
So a muffled "MREWEOW" followed by the raucous scatter of kitty claws all over the wood floor was a bit of a shock at 1am. We both shot up in bed, trying to figure out what was going on. Were we dreaming? Is it the baby monitor? Tony turned on the light.
Thinking back to Neely's recent conquest and not seeing where he was, I said, "Is there a mouse?"
:squeek squeek:
Uhh... YES THERE'S A FRIGGIN MOUSE OMGEEE.
I stood up in the center of the bed and hugged a pillow to my face. I didn't want to see it or hear it or know of it's existence. LA LA LA I'm not here right now! Tony jumped down to scope out the situation. Neely, in stealth kitty hunter mode, had the intruder cornered under a radiator vent.
"CAN I GET TO THE DOOR?" I whisper-yelled to Tony.
"Yes, go now!"
I booked it to the bathroom, shut the door, and stood on the toilet. You can never be too safe.
I heard some further scerfuffle in the bedroom... kitty scatter, "Neely, move!" :squeek:... and then finally :CLAP!:
...
"It's okay to come out now."
Tony had caught the mouse in a wooden box. Neely eyeballed the box and followed him like he was holding a juicy steak. Tony took the mouse outside... to the car and then drove it to a lovely farm where it could roam free for the rest of his days. Not really. I don't ask questions. The mouse was out of the house, never to return (god please), and that's all that mattered.
We realized after some time to reflect, that Neely likely hadn't found the mouse in our room but had brought it up from downstairs. It was a gift, a gesture of thanks, and maybe a little trophy of his own.
Thanks Neel. I appreciate your mad skillz. But next time, can you get us a nice gift card to Applebees or something? Much love, cat.
In the middle of the night, Tony and I were abruptly awakened by Neely. It was not unusual that he was in our room, as he is free to come and go as he pleases. But we typically can't hear him. He is a dainty fellow, light on his feet and silent. You can't hear him coming unless he lets out one of his soft little "mew"s.
So a muffled "MREWEOW" followed by the raucous scatter of kitty claws all over the wood floor was a bit of a shock at 1am. We both shot up in bed, trying to figure out what was going on. Were we dreaming? Is it the baby monitor? Tony turned on the light.
Thinking back to Neely's recent conquest and not seeing where he was, I said, "Is there a mouse?"
:squeek squeek:
Uhh... YES THERE'S A FRIGGIN MOUSE OMGEEE.
I stood up in the center of the bed and hugged a pillow to my face. I didn't want to see it or hear it or know of it's existence. LA LA LA I'm not here right now! Tony jumped down to scope out the situation. Neely, in stealth kitty hunter mode, had the intruder cornered under a radiator vent.
"CAN I GET TO THE DOOR?" I whisper-yelled to Tony.
"Yes, go now!"
I booked it to the bathroom, shut the door, and stood on the toilet. You can never be too safe.
I heard some further scerfuffle in the bedroom... kitty scatter, "Neely, move!" :squeek:... and then finally :CLAP!:
...
"It's okay to come out now."
Tony had caught the mouse in a wooden box. Neely eyeballed the box and followed him like he was holding a juicy steak. Tony took the mouse outside... to the car and then drove it to a lovely farm where it could roam free for the rest of his days. Not really. I don't ask questions. The mouse was out of the house, never to return (god please), and that's all that mattered.
We realized after some time to reflect, that Neely likely hadn't found the mouse in our room but had brought it up from downstairs. It was a gift, a gesture of thanks, and maybe a little trophy of his own.
Thanks Neel. I appreciate your mad skillz. But next time, can you get us a nice gift card to Applebees or something? Much love, cat.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
My Secret Hoarding Confession
Remember that post about my tendency toward throwing everything away? I realized a few nights ago that there is one area of my life in which I lean more towards the habit of hoarding. If not a true hoarder, then I'm at least a disgusting slob when it comes to... my nightstand. Right now on the table by the side of my bed there is:
- a lamp
- a box of tissues
- 5 different half empty moisturizers (What? They're all for different things!)
- 2 books
- Nintendo DS
- cell phone
- a water bottle
- a glass of water
- 2 bottles of pills
- hair elastics, headband, and bobbie pins
Don't even ask about the drawer. In it there is a slew of skin, nail, and hair maintenence items, a few magazines, some mail, receipts... basically the contents of your standard Junk Drawer. Also on the shelf underneath there are even more hair items, some empty shopping bags, and a few more books.
On Tony's nightstand is a bottle of water and a remote control. Sometimes he tries to sell me some retail space on his table. But I always find a way to fit another little something on mine with some clever shifting.
I have tried to purge items from this nightmare of a nightstand. But it all seems to find it's way back. Truthfully, besides the contents of the drawer which can easily be closed and forgotten about, I do use everything on the table on a daily basis. And our upstairs bathroom, where some of these things would more appropriately belong, is limited on space and storage.
Basically what I need is an old fashioned vanity, with a mirror and round make-up lights, a cushioned bench, and a silver hair brush. I'd sit at it in a pink robe with feather trim and shoulder pads, wearing my headbands and moisturizing the day away.
I'm picturing something like this:
I also have a strong aversion to wire hangers. So I'm not too far off.
- a lamp
- a box of tissues
- 5 different half empty moisturizers (What? They're all for different things!)
- 2 books
- Nintendo DS
- cell phone
- a water bottle
- a glass of water
- 2 bottles of pills
- hair elastics, headband, and bobbie pins
Don't even ask about the drawer. In it there is a slew of skin, nail, and hair maintenence items, a few magazines, some mail, receipts... basically the contents of your standard Junk Drawer. Also on the shelf underneath there are even more hair items, some empty shopping bags, and a few more books.
On Tony's nightstand is a bottle of water and a remote control. Sometimes he tries to sell me some retail space on his table. But I always find a way to fit another little something on mine with some clever shifting.
I have tried to purge items from this nightmare of a nightstand. But it all seems to find it's way back. Truthfully, besides the contents of the drawer which can easily be closed and forgotten about, I do use everything on the table on a daily basis. And our upstairs bathroom, where some of these things would more appropriately belong, is limited on space and storage.
Basically what I need is an old fashioned vanity, with a mirror and round make-up lights, a cushioned bench, and a silver hair brush. I'd sit at it in a pink robe with feather trim and shoulder pads, wearing my headbands and moisturizing the day away.
I'm picturing something like this:
I also have a strong aversion to wire hangers. So I'm not too far off.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Nature
The theme of the weekend was nature. We barely left the house, but it still came barreling in on us from all sides.
It started early Saturday morning when we had some visitors.
Lots of visitors. I think 22 was the final count. We had seen these guys before. They're regulars in the neighborhood.
They're quite entertaining. As long as they stay off the roads and stop giving me a heart attack with all the cars honking.
Later that afternoon we had an ice/rain storm. Because you know, Mother Nature hadn't bared her teeth in a few days. She wanted to make sure we were still paying attention. We listened to the sounds of sleet and freezing rain against the vinyl siding, combined with booming thunder and flashes of lightning. It was actually kinda nice from inside the house.
Early Sunday morning as we slept soundly in our beds, the echos of Mother Nature were making themselves known again. In the form of a HUGE BOOM that shook the entire house. Being woken so suddenly, we were totally confused. I assumed it was another clap of thunder. Tony's thoughts went to the large trees and the potential for branches falling on the house. He ran into the baby's room to make sure he was okay, like the always-thinking and quick-on-his-feet parent. At least one of us is. All was well and Des barely noticed the noise.
The boom was so loud we couldn't figure out where it came from. Tony grabbed a flashlight and began looking all around outside the house. I'm surprised the neighbors didn't call the cops with the flashlight beaming in a dark house. Maybe they thought burglars wouldn't be so conspicuous. Tony finally came upon the culprit... a massive ice dam from the upper part of the roof had fallen and landed on the roof below. The next morning he assessed the situation.
Luckily the roof was not damaged.
Apparently these giant blocks of ice were very heavy. Strong husbands are useful in these situations.
And still later that day, we had another brush with nature, inside the house this time. I couldn't get a photo because I was busy standing on a chair with a broom in my hands, living up to every cliche in the book. Yes, we had a mouse.
This house is no stranger to mice. Despite there always being at least one cat around, they love it here. Although since the renovations, they mostly keep to the walls and ceilings. We can hear them scurrying around. I don't mind. As long as they don't make their presence known in any other way whatsoever. So when Tony caught sight of one running toward the play room, out came the traps. And yes, I sleep just fine at night, thank you very much. No bites yet, but I'm sitting here twisting my mustache and rubbing my palms together like a true villain. That little bugger cannot resist the power of a dollop of peanut butter much longer...
It started early Saturday morning when we had some visitors.
Lots of visitors. I think 22 was the final count. We had seen these guys before. They're regulars in the neighborhood.
They're quite entertaining. As long as they stay off the roads and stop giving me a heart attack with all the cars honking.
Later that afternoon we had an ice/rain storm. Because you know, Mother Nature hadn't bared her teeth in a few days. She wanted to make sure we were still paying attention. We listened to the sounds of sleet and freezing rain against the vinyl siding, combined with booming thunder and flashes of lightning. It was actually kinda nice from inside the house.
Early Sunday morning as we slept soundly in our beds, the echos of Mother Nature were making themselves known again. In the form of a HUGE BOOM that shook the entire house. Being woken so suddenly, we were totally confused. I assumed it was another clap of thunder. Tony's thoughts went to the large trees and the potential for branches falling on the house. He ran into the baby's room to make sure he was okay, like the always-thinking and quick-on-his-feet parent. At least one of us is. All was well and Des barely noticed the noise.
The boom was so loud we couldn't figure out where it came from. Tony grabbed a flashlight and began looking all around outside the house. I'm surprised the neighbors didn't call the cops with the flashlight beaming in a dark house. Maybe they thought burglars wouldn't be so conspicuous. Tony finally came upon the culprit... a massive ice dam from the upper part of the roof had fallen and landed on the roof below. The next morning he assessed the situation.
Luckily the roof was not damaged.
Apparently these giant blocks of ice were very heavy. Strong husbands are useful in these situations.
And still later that day, we had another brush with nature, inside the house this time. I couldn't get a photo because I was busy standing on a chair with a broom in my hands, living up to every cliche in the book. Yes, we had a mouse.
This house is no stranger to mice. Despite there always being at least one cat around, they love it here. Although since the renovations, they mostly keep to the walls and ceilings. We can hear them scurrying around. I don't mind. As long as they don't make their presence known in any other way whatsoever. So when Tony caught sight of one running toward the play room, out came the traps. And yes, I sleep just fine at night, thank you very much. No bites yet, but I'm sitting here twisting my mustache and rubbing my palms together like a true villain. That little bugger cannot resist the power of a dollop of peanut butter much longer...
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Love and Laundry
My husband does many daily chores very well and unrequested. Dishes, trash, cooking, cleaning, food shopping. He picks up and drops off Des from daycare. He feeds him dinner and has ours ready when I get home. I recognize that he is the best and I am super lucky. He's not just my soul mate, love of my life, best friend... he actually does stuff.
All I ask is that he stays away from the laundry.
The other day I went upstairs to fold a basket of baby clothes that I had washed the night prior. But the basket wasn't where I left it.
"Tone, where's that load of laundry that was up here?"
"I put it in the wash."
"Dude, that was CLEAN."
"Oh. I was just trying to help."
Bless his heart.
Back in the day Tony used to have a sock drawer. But not your typical sock drawer. It was full of single socks, randomly strewn about. Every morning he'd fish around for two socks that were close to the same color and style and put them on.
Matching socks? Sorting by color? Folding t-shirts? HA! He laughs in the face of such nonsense.
I am not anal about many things. But laundry is one of them. I actually enjoy the mindlessness and simple organization it requires. Call me a weirdo, but there is nothing better than pouring a glass of wine, putting on an episode of Hoarders, and folding a load of fresh laundry. Who's with me?
The cheese stands alone.
All I ask is that he stays away from the laundry.
The other day I went upstairs to fold a basket of baby clothes that I had washed the night prior. But the basket wasn't where I left it.
"Tone, where's that load of laundry that was up here?"
"I put it in the wash."
"Dude, that was CLEAN."
"Oh. I was just trying to help."
Bless his heart.
Back in the day Tony used to have a sock drawer. But not your typical sock drawer. It was full of single socks, randomly strewn about. Every morning he'd fish around for two socks that were close to the same color and style and put them on.
Matching socks? Sorting by color? Folding t-shirts? HA! He laughs in the face of such nonsense.
I am not anal about many things. But laundry is one of them. I actually enjoy the mindlessness and simple organization it requires. Call me a weirdo, but there is nothing better than pouring a glass of wine, putting on an episode of Hoarders, and folding a load of fresh laundry. Who's with me?
The cheese stands alone.
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