(Sorry about the title, but I was chatting with a friend and she mentioned how people used to use the term "gag" to describe something icky, but it's really fallen out of favor. We're trying to bring it back! ☺)
I am the world's worst housekeeper. Okay, probably not, but still...not good. I feel like I'm chasing my house around and never catching it. Papers stack up, dishes stack up, laundry stacks up. And I doubt I'm the only one. I know plenty of people who's houses aways seem clean. Or, at the very least, not the "bachelor pad meets tornado aftermath" that my house often seems to resemble.
I think the part that bothers me most about this is that I am not really a messy person. I actually have a very organized mind. I love filing things and checking off lists. My CD's and DVD's are organized alphabetically. My books are organized by color. My closet is organized by genre. (Short sleeves, long sleeves, skirts, jeans...etc.) Our clothing is in good repair, our furniture is well taken care of. The problem is, you don't really notice because of all of the...stuff all over the place!
You would further think that my position as stay-at-home mom would allow me the time needed to keep everything picked up. And while that is for the most part true, I don't relish the idea of spending 8 hours a day cleaning. Mostly because my position of stay-at-home mom is actually a 24 hour position with no sick days, no days off and zero vacation. So if I feel like reading a book in the afternoon instead of doing the dishes (for the second time today) I'm going to do it. And to his credit, the husband never even comments. (Mostly because I thus far have not demanded him to "pitch-in", and humans are given a rather powerful self-preservation instinct.)
I always tell myself to "get organized", but I think that term is simply too vague. What I really want is a clean house with minimal amount of daily upkeep. What I want is to be out in front of the housekeeping race. However, anyone who has ever had, or even read about, a toddler knows that this might be too much to hope for! But, I am devising a 7 day organizational project, which will hopefully whip my house (and it's messy little denizens) into shape.
I will be chronicling this endeavor on my Project Incentive blog, and everyone is welcome to check on my progress and "hear" me whine about my mess some more. Maybe when it's all over I will have some greater insight into my housekeeping failure. Happy cleaning, everyone! (Gag.)
Monday, August 2, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Top 10 Worst Passengers
I recently read an article on Yahoo Travel about the Top Ten Worst Airlines when it comes to customer complaints. The funny thing is, with all the mergers of the biggest airlines, there are really only about 10 left, so it's just a matter of position at this point. All the best known (read: the airlines that service YOUR local airport) made the list. Southwest, the bastard child of the industry, of course escaped the author's critique and was considered "the best" one for customer service. (It placed #11 on the list, apparently.)
Having done my share of air travel, I can absolutely relate the all the complaints customers have about the passenger airlines. Having also been a former airline employee (I still get chills when I hear "Rhapsody in Blue") I have a very real understanding of where these complaints are coming from, and more importantly, what is really happening behind the curtain. Passengers are fed up with delays and poor service? Well, airline employees are fed up with being a punching bag for people who don't understand how air travel works! And on that note, I would like to present my own Top Ten Worst Passengers List:
10. The "Can't you make an exception for me?" passenger
Your big brown eyes might work in some places, honey, but we have actual rules here. And, no, we aren't allowed to make exceptions. Unfortunately, some airports you visit will allow the exception, which just makes the rest of us look like bitches for following the rules. If he at least got your phone number, I'd feel better about it.
9. The "Is there someone who can help me with this luggage?" passenger
Sadly, we don't have a valet service. The curbside baggage guys will help with checked bags, but to be perfectly honest, if you can't get your suitcase out of the trunk of your car without a team of horses, then you packed too much. And if you can't carry your "carry-on" items yourself, (or, more importantly, carry your infant twins and all their "necessities") then you'll have to buy an extra ticket so your mother can come along to help you. Never pack more than you can carry...on your person. Period.
8. The "Why are you so angry I asked a simple question?" passenger or friend/family awaiting passenger
True story:
Me, standing at the ticket counter, speaking into the overhead P.A. system: "Attention those awaiting flight 774* from Chicago, that flight has been delayed in Chicago about 30 minutes. The expected arrival time is now 7:30pm. Thank you for your patience." (*not a real flight number)
Guy standing right in front of me watching me deliver this announcement: "Excuse me, is flight 774 late?"
Me, thinking he must be kidding: "Yes. It's delayed about a half hour."
Him: "So...when do you think it will be in?"
What I said: "7:30"
What I wanted to say: "Do the math, dipstick!! I just got done telling the entire airport the new arrival time, and you can't say you couldn't understand the P.A. because you were standing not 4 feet in front of me, staring at my mouth while I said it!!"
Moral: There is no such thing as a stupid question...unless there have been several announcements and large signs answering it, and the ten people in line in front of you have asked the same question, and you were too self-involved to bother hearing the answer! Then, yeah, it's a stupid question!!
7. The "Excuse me, waitress!" passenger
The flight attendant is not a waitress. (Or waiter) They are trained security professionals, whose job is to maintain order and assist you in case of an emergency. And if you are nice, they might bring you a pillow and a Diet Coke. (And if not, "turbulence" is a nice, vague term!)
6. The "Security took my water!" passenger
Airport security is operated by a government agency, with VERY specific requirements. Luckily, these requirements are posted all over the airport, internet and morning shows. Your lack of interest in your own trip is not our fault. Oh, and THEY tell US what to do, not the other way around!
5. The "You lost my luggage!" passenger
Let's get a little perspective: If there are 200 passengers on your plane, and they are connecting to 165 different planes in the hub city, that's 200 bags going 165 different directions. Now multiply that by 500, for all the other airplanes in that hub airport. Kind of makes you wonder how ANY of the bags get to their final destinations, doesn't it? Here's a tip...don't pack anything in your checked luggage you can't live without for a day or two. We're doing our best.
4. The "Ol' Yeller" passenger
The girl at the boarding gate cannot give you a refund. She doesn't have any money at all! 7 times out of 10 she doesn't even know HOW to give you a refund. Believe me when I tell you that you will get a lot farther with someone from the "800 number" than you will with the gate girl. You can spout all the nastiness you want at her, she's heard it all before, but it just makes you look like an ass. All the "seasoned" travelers are already calling the 800 number, and making fun of you behind your back!
3. The "Vacation Brain" passenger
I appreciate the fact that people go on vacation to put a pause on thinking. But you aren't there yet, honey! We need you to "tune in" for a few more hours, listen to announcements, pay attention to signs and for Pete's sake, not get drunk until you are at your hotel!
2. The "Frequent Flyer" passenger
Yes, sir, I can see that you are a Premier Frequent Flyer! It's too bad that status doesn't come with tights and a cape, because I doubt that even your magical "frequent flyer" powers will make this fog go away, and we can't leave until it does. Yes, sir, even for you. (insert the proper genuflecting here)
1. The "I haven't flown since 1984" passenger
Is there really anyone alive who doesn't know the airlines charge for checked bags? That you are only allowed to carry-on a small amount of liquids? That you'll have to take your shoes off? Do yourself a favor, and check with your airline for their CURRENT rules and expectations. Stuff changes, get over it.
That being said, here are some tips for happier travels!
Having done my share of air travel, I can absolutely relate the all the complaints customers have about the passenger airlines. Having also been a former airline employee (I still get chills when I hear "Rhapsody in Blue") I have a very real understanding of where these complaints are coming from, and more importantly, what is really happening behind the curtain. Passengers are fed up with delays and poor service? Well, airline employees are fed up with being a punching bag for people who don't understand how air travel works! And on that note, I would like to present my own Top Ten Worst Passengers List:
10. The "Can't you make an exception for me?" passenger
Your big brown eyes might work in some places, honey, but we have actual rules here. And, no, we aren't allowed to make exceptions. Unfortunately, some airports you visit will allow the exception, which just makes the rest of us look like bitches for following the rules. If he at least got your phone number, I'd feel better about it.
9. The "Is there someone who can help me with this luggage?" passenger
Sadly, we don't have a valet service. The curbside baggage guys will help with checked bags, but to be perfectly honest, if you can't get your suitcase out of the trunk of your car without a team of horses, then you packed too much. And if you can't carry your "carry-on" items yourself, (or, more importantly, carry your infant twins and all their "necessities") then you'll have to buy an extra ticket so your mother can come along to help you. Never pack more than you can carry...on your person. Period.
8. The "Why are you so angry I asked a simple question?" passenger or friend/family awaiting passenger
True story:
Me, standing at the ticket counter, speaking into the overhead P.A. system: "Attention those awaiting flight 774* from Chicago, that flight has been delayed in Chicago about 30 minutes. The expected arrival time is now 7:30pm. Thank you for your patience." (*not a real flight number)
Guy standing right in front of me watching me deliver this announcement: "Excuse me, is flight 774 late?"
Me, thinking he must be kidding: "Yes. It's delayed about a half hour."
Him: "So...when do you think it will be in?"
What I said: "7:30"
What I wanted to say: "Do the math, dipstick!! I just got done telling the entire airport the new arrival time, and you can't say you couldn't understand the P.A. because you were standing not 4 feet in front of me, staring at my mouth while I said it!!"
Moral: There is no such thing as a stupid question...unless there have been several announcements and large signs answering it, and the ten people in line in front of you have asked the same question, and you were too self-involved to bother hearing the answer! Then, yeah, it's a stupid question!!
7. The "Excuse me, waitress!" passenger
The flight attendant is not a waitress. (Or waiter) They are trained security professionals, whose job is to maintain order and assist you in case of an emergency. And if you are nice, they might bring you a pillow and a Diet Coke. (And if not, "turbulence" is a nice, vague term!)
6. The "Security took my water!" passenger
Airport security is operated by a government agency, with VERY specific requirements. Luckily, these requirements are posted all over the airport, internet and morning shows. Your lack of interest in your own trip is not our fault. Oh, and THEY tell US what to do, not the other way around!
5. The "You lost my luggage!" passenger
Let's get a little perspective: If there are 200 passengers on your plane, and they are connecting to 165 different planes in the hub city, that's 200 bags going 165 different directions. Now multiply that by 500, for all the other airplanes in that hub airport. Kind of makes you wonder how ANY of the bags get to their final destinations, doesn't it? Here's a tip...don't pack anything in your checked luggage you can't live without for a day or two. We're doing our best.
4. The "Ol' Yeller" passenger
The girl at the boarding gate cannot give you a refund. She doesn't have any money at all! 7 times out of 10 she doesn't even know HOW to give you a refund. Believe me when I tell you that you will get a lot farther with someone from the "800 number" than you will with the gate girl. You can spout all the nastiness you want at her, she's heard it all before, but it just makes you look like an ass. All the "seasoned" travelers are already calling the 800 number, and making fun of you behind your back!
3. The "Vacation Brain" passenger
I appreciate the fact that people go on vacation to put a pause on thinking. But you aren't there yet, honey! We need you to "tune in" for a few more hours, listen to announcements, pay attention to signs and for Pete's sake, not get drunk until you are at your hotel!
2. The "Frequent Flyer" passenger
Yes, sir, I can see that you are a Premier Frequent Flyer! It's too bad that status doesn't come with tights and a cape, because I doubt that even your magical "frequent flyer" powers will make this fog go away, and we can't leave until it does. Yes, sir, even for you. (insert the proper genuflecting here)
1. The "I haven't flown since 1984" passenger
Is there really anyone alive who doesn't know the airlines charge for checked bags? That you are only allowed to carry-on a small amount of liquids? That you'll have to take your shoes off? Do yourself a favor, and check with your airline for their CURRENT rules and expectations. Stuff changes, get over it.
That being said, here are some tips for happier travels!
- If you can't pick up your suitcase, you've packed too much. Wheels on suitcases are considered the decline of the travel industry. A good rule of thumb: take what you think you "need" and divide it by half. That's what you'll actually use.
- If possible, don't check a bag. Not only do you save time at the counter and at arrival (no waiting for the baggage belt) but if something comes up and you need to be re-routed on another carrier, you will be a prime candidate if you haven't any checked luggage that must be re-routed as well.
- Remember the 3-1-1 rule: 1 qt ziptop bag, 1 for each passenger, that holds small containers of liquids (3.4 oz or 100 ml or less) in their carry-on bag. Believe me, you don't need more than that. Even if you aren't checking a bag, and you are staying longer than a sample size shampoo will cover, I can categorically guarantee that any city large enough to have an airport will also have a Walmart. You know? (BTW, what is considered "liquid" seems to be subjective, and may be determined by each security employee. Just to be safe, put your Chapstick and deodorant in the "liquid" bag.)
- Really, be there 2 hours early. They aren't kidding. You can expect to stand in line for 30-45 minutes to check in, and another 30-45 minutes in line at security. Remember, boarding starts a half hour before "departure" time. Sometimes, the worst that can happen is that you breeze right through both without standing in line at all. Bummer. Bring a book or something. Heaven forbid you have extra time to buy a bottle of water, shop for imported perfume or hit the bathroom before your flight!
- When things go wrong, stay calm. Weather happens. Sometimes, landing gear lights stop working. Things happen, and if you are calm, you will get the help you deserve. Listen to the announcements, and don't forget the "customer service" line. You might get through to them before you get to the front of the line at the Customer Service booth!
- Keep your wits. There is something about airports that makes people go crazy! (According to the husband!) It's busy, it's noisy, and there are a lot of rules. (And if you break them you could go to jail!) My suggestion is, do as much as you can before you leave home. Put all of your documents, ID, and itineraries in one pocket in your purse, have your suitcase labeled (both inside and outside!) and don't wear any jewelry or belt buckles or shoes that are really hard to get on and off. Make things as simple as you can! Know the current TSA rules before you go!
- Don't expect wine and roses. If the guy checking your bags isn't simply beaming with pleasure at the opportunity to do so, don't take it personally. Remember, these guys are expected to do twice the work in half the time it would take the average person, and for about the same salary as the fry cook at McDonald's. Give them a break...and be thankful that you are on the "good" side of the counter! ;)
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
The Things Only Mama Knows
There are many things that only a mother would know. There are the obvious ones, like how much your babies weighed at birth, (even devoted daddies rarely commit that to memory...it might have been our justification for the fuss over the pain. "That was an 8lb thing I just pushed out!!") but there are plenty of other things that no one else in the household seems to know...or even bother to care about. A few examples:
- The perfect ratio of milk to chocolate syrup
- The incredibly complex procedures involving toilet paper roll replacement
- When the garbage is full, continuing to stack things precariously on top is not a solution
- Where the batteries are stored
- Ditto the Scotch tape, scissors, glue, thread, etc.
- That there is a full, unopened jar of peanut butter RIGHT BEHIND the almost empty one
- That being forced to eat bell peppers can make a 9th grade boy act like a 3 year old girl
- What that weird, long stick with the bristles on one end is for
- The day and time of every soccer game, ballet lesson and band rehearsal
- Whether the baby is sick or just "teething"
- Exactly how much Santa spent on each of her children
- The price of a gallon of milk
- That a glass of Merlot can dampen homicidal inclinations
- What actually is for dinner
- That there are very few people she would sacrifice her time, sleep and dreams for, (not to mention tummy, ass and thighs) and they all live right here in her home...eating up all the peanut butter
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
A {Great} Day
This day actually happened last week, but it has taken me awhile to find the time to type it up...but the story tells better if it seems like it just happened. Bare with me!
This is why Mommy needs wine:
Today is my shopping day. We live in a rural area, and we are lucky enough to have a small store in our town. That's great for a quick loaf of bread or gallon of milk, but for my weekly grocery list, I drive 40 miles to the nearest major supermarket. As any mother will understand, doing this with a 13 month boy in tow is the textbook definition of "crazy", but alas, he is the least of my problems.
*Bing* I'm getting a text message. Because I know about 5 people who text me, I'm fairly confident that this is from the Teen.
Can you bring $4o to the school for a yearbook?
10 minutes later I hit "send":
U need it 2day
10 seconds later he replies:
This is the last day.
10 minutes later I reply:
How long hav u known about this
10 seconds later he replies:
I only heard about it today. Maybe they started last week, but I never heard anything about it.
I happen to know that they have been for sale for over 3 months, from a friend with a high school daughter who bought hers 3 months ago! But because the twenty signs he had to walk by on a daily basis and the daily morning announcement about yearbook sales never actually mentioned him BY NAME, how could be expected to take notice? My typical response to this type of situation is my favorite quote: "Poor planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part." However, putting that in a text message might put my thumb in traction, so this is what I texted:
I ll see if i have time
Which in my head means "You little sh@@, this is incredibly inconvenient/expensive, and we will definitely be discussing this at a later time!!" but my kids hear "Yes."
So on my way through town I stop by the high school to drop off a check. (And to verify with the office ladies that the yearbooks have been for sale for 3 months, and they were actually only $35 dollars if you bought them at the beginning. Grrrrr) Then I got on the interstate and headed out of town to buy my groceries. Right before I entered a "no signal" zone, I get a call from the Angel.
"Mommy?"
"Yeah?"
"I forgot to bring tennis shoes and we have gym today and the teacher says if we don't have tennis shoes we can't play!"
"What shoes are you wearing?"
"My Uggs."
"And you can't run in those?"
"We can't wear them in the gym. Can you bring me my tennis shoes?" (Insert the high pitched, sickeningly sweet, begging voice here.)
"No, honey, I'm sorry, I'm on the interstate." If you had called an hour ago...
"Okay." (Inject a huge amount of dejected guilt.)
As it turns out, they ended up playing kickball outside, so this whole conversation served no purpose other than to raise my blood pressure.
The shopping goes off without a hitch. (Except the Peanut dropping his "spill-proof" sippy cup on the floor and it breaking into 7 pieces, spilling water all over the place and causing us to hunt up a store employee, a rare anomaly, to clean it up before someone could slip. *sigh*) After this day, and knowing the Teen had a band concert that night, we decided to pick up some sandwiches from a take out sub-sandwich place. ("Yes, that's right. Ham and cheese and NO Veggies! I want them to actually eat it!")
Returning home we pulled in right behind the school bus. (After SLOWLY following it through every stop along the way.) I unloaded the groceries and instructed the Teen to ensure his band uniform was clean. After settling the younger two into their sandwiches, the Teen comes out of the bathroom wearing his uniform pants.
"Umm, I think you missed the zipper," I said, gesturing toward his...zipper.
"Oh, yeah. It's ripped. I can't help it."
Pressing my hand to my forehead and glancing enviously at the 6 inch Veggie Delight waiting for me, I almost told him to put on some black underwear and call it good. I didn't. While he ate his sandwich, I managed to un-earth some black thread and a needle and hand-stitched the zipper back into his pants. I finished with just enough time to get shoes and coats on everyone and get us to the high school less than 5 minutes late! (A personal best.)
Fortunately, the high school band played first in this concert. (A music festival concert, which also means "music no one but professional musicians want to hear".) The Peanut managed to sit through the first three songs, and then I had to take him out. I spent the rest of the concert chasing the Peanut around the cafeteria, trying to listen to the choir and other ensembles, in case there was a quiz later.
After returning home, the Angel and Peanut snug in their beds, I was pouring myself a 32 oz glass of wine, scarfing my yet un-touched sandwich, and discussing the concert with the Teen.
"Oh, yeah, the second song was my favorite." Hopefully there was a second song...
"Yeah, that one was good! The tambourine was really difficult in that one."
"Hey, by the way, did you pick up the check I left for you at the office?"
"What check?"
Glug, glug, glug...
This is why Mommy needs wine:
Today is my shopping day. We live in a rural area, and we are lucky enough to have a small store in our town. That's great for a quick loaf of bread or gallon of milk, but for my weekly grocery list, I drive 40 miles to the nearest major supermarket. As any mother will understand, doing this with a 13 month boy in tow is the textbook definition of "crazy", but alas, he is the least of my problems.
*Bing* I'm getting a text message. Because I know about 5 people who text me, I'm fairly confident that this is from the Teen.
Can you bring $4o to the school for a yearbook?
10 minutes later I hit "send":
U need it 2day
10 seconds later he replies:
This is the last day.
10 minutes later I reply:
How long hav u known about this
10 seconds later he replies:
I only heard about it today. Maybe they started last week, but I never heard anything about it.
I happen to know that they have been for sale for over 3 months, from a friend with a high school daughter who bought hers 3 months ago! But because the twenty signs he had to walk by on a daily basis and the daily morning announcement about yearbook sales never actually mentioned him BY NAME, how could be expected to take notice? My typical response to this type of situation is my favorite quote: "Poor planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part." However, putting that in a text message might put my thumb in traction, so this is what I texted:
I ll see if i have time
Which in my head means "You little sh@@, this is incredibly inconvenient/expensive, and we will definitely be discussing this at a later time!!" but my kids hear "Yes."
So on my way through town I stop by the high school to drop off a check. (And to verify with the office ladies that the yearbooks have been for sale for 3 months, and they were actually only $35 dollars if you bought them at the beginning. Grrrrr) Then I got on the interstate and headed out of town to buy my groceries. Right before I entered a "no signal" zone, I get a call from the Angel.
"Mommy?"
"Yeah?"
"I forgot to bring tennis shoes and we have gym today and the teacher says if we don't have tennis shoes we can't play!"
"What shoes are you wearing?"
"My Uggs."
"And you can't run in those?"
"We can't wear them in the gym. Can you bring me my tennis shoes?" (Insert the high pitched, sickeningly sweet, begging voice here.)
"No, honey, I'm sorry, I'm on the interstate." If you had called an hour ago...
"Okay." (Inject a huge amount of dejected guilt.)
As it turns out, they ended up playing kickball outside, so this whole conversation served no purpose other than to raise my blood pressure.
The shopping goes off without a hitch. (Except the Peanut dropping his "spill-proof" sippy cup on the floor and it breaking into 7 pieces, spilling water all over the place and causing us to hunt up a store employee, a rare anomaly, to clean it up before someone could slip. *sigh*) After this day, and knowing the Teen had a band concert that night, we decided to pick up some sandwiches from a take out sub-sandwich place. ("Yes, that's right. Ham and cheese and NO Veggies! I want them to actually eat it!")
Returning home we pulled in right behind the school bus. (After SLOWLY following it through every stop along the way.) I unloaded the groceries and instructed the Teen to ensure his band uniform was clean. After settling the younger two into their sandwiches, the Teen comes out of the bathroom wearing his uniform pants.
"Umm, I think you missed the zipper," I said, gesturing toward his...zipper.
"Oh, yeah. It's ripped. I can't help it."
Pressing my hand to my forehead and glancing enviously at the 6 inch Veggie Delight waiting for me, I almost told him to put on some black underwear and call it good. I didn't. While he ate his sandwich, I managed to un-earth some black thread and a needle and hand-stitched the zipper back into his pants. I finished with just enough time to get shoes and coats on everyone and get us to the high school less than 5 minutes late! (A personal best.)
Fortunately, the high school band played first in this concert. (A music festival concert, which also means "music no one but professional musicians want to hear".) The Peanut managed to sit through the first three songs, and then I had to take him out. I spent the rest of the concert chasing the Peanut around the cafeteria, trying to listen to the choir and other ensembles, in case there was a quiz later.
After returning home, the Angel and Peanut snug in their beds, I was pouring myself a 32 oz glass of wine, scarfing my yet un-touched sandwich, and discussing the concert with the Teen.
"Oh, yeah, the second song was my favorite." Hopefully there was a second song...
"Yeah, that one was good! The tambourine was really difficult in that one."
"Hey, by the way, did you pick up the check I left for you at the office?"
"What check?"
Glug, glug, glug...
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
I'm never moving again!
This move is going to kill me. I can't seem to get anything done with my son screaming at me every time I try to do anything productive. (Notice, he's not screaming right now...hmm.) The husband and I spent the last weekend cleaning out the "old" apartment. Just so you know, and don't judge me too harshly, there is some sort of cleaning quota which we have of course filled and now our other house (the one we actually live in) is a complete wreck. This makes the husband {super happy}. (Side bar: the curly braces are a personal "sarcasm font" my friends and I use on facebook, and now I'm sharing it with you. Pass it on...it's gonna be big! Plus, it's free.)
We spent hours scrubbing the kitchen and bathroom. Well, we asked the teen to clean the two of the bathrooms, and after 15 minutes and we couldn't find him, we just went ahead and cleaned them ourselves. (He didn't really want to go to prom, I guess.) I asked the angel to use some disinfecting wipes and wipe down all the baseboards in the house. Sounds stupid? Have you looked at your baseboards lately? Me neither, and they were gross.
Of course, after putting in a ten hour day of cleaning, no one would want to clean again. This lead to what shall henceforth be known in my family as "The Great Dishwashing Affair", the one where I washed dishes (by hand) for 5 HOURS. You can't even make that up. Apparently, it had been so long since I had cleaned the kitchen at the new house that I couldn't even find the counter. I've never heard the husband and kids as quiet as they were when this was going on. If I'm relaxing on the couch, they all want to talk to me or sit with me or in other ways distract me from the drivel I'm watching on TV. When I'm doing the dishes...nobody's home. Seriously, crickets are chirping. (Except the peanut, who's screaming of course.)
But the clouds seem to be parting, and we are finally completely moved out of the apartment. Of course, now we're stacked into this tiny place like cord wood, but that's a story for another time!
We spent hours scrubbing the kitchen and bathroom. Well, we asked the teen to clean the two of the bathrooms, and after 15 minutes and we couldn't find him, we just went ahead and cleaned them ourselves. (He didn't really want to go to prom, I guess.) I asked the angel to use some disinfecting wipes and wipe down all the baseboards in the house. Sounds stupid? Have you looked at your baseboards lately? Me neither, and they were gross.
Of course, after putting in a ten hour day of cleaning, no one would want to clean again. This lead to what shall henceforth be known in my family as "The Great Dishwashing Affair", the one where I washed dishes (by hand) for 5 HOURS. You can't even make that up. Apparently, it had been so long since I had cleaned the kitchen at the new house that I couldn't even find the counter. I've never heard the husband and kids as quiet as they were when this was going on. If I'm relaxing on the couch, they all want to talk to me or sit with me or in other ways distract me from the drivel I'm watching on TV. When I'm doing the dishes...nobody's home. Seriously, crickets are chirping. (Except the peanut, who's screaming of course.)
But the clouds seem to be parting, and we are finally completely moved out of the apartment. Of course, now we're stacked into this tiny place like cord wood, but that's a story for another time!
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
So much to do...and yet I don't care
For those of you following along, you know that I am in the middle of a move. And if you've been around my blog for awhile you know that it is actually something I do pretty often. Unfortunately, this is not one of those "organized" moves. We are just moving from town to 3 miles out of town, one pickup load at a time.
First things first, we removed our beds, which of course have to be completely disassembled by the husband and the cordless drill/driver. ("Hey, do remember what I did with the screws for this?") We plucked them from the knee-deep mess surrounding them and moved them first. We did the same thing to the couches, except without the luxury of taking them apart. ("Okay, I think we have to tip it...no, the other way...now pivot...okay, okay, set it down...let me think about this for a minute...")
So we have horizontal places to lay down and sit at the new house. Uh, did we remember clothes? Another trip. I forgot to grab any shampoo or towels! Another trip. Mommy, can I have a bowl of cereal? Of course, honey, I grabbed milk and cereal...uh...but forgot bowls. Another trip. Where's the spoons? [Insert profanity here]
Now we've had to pause the major moving so the husband can go back to work, which leaves the "details" up to me. The new house is a mess of things that I just don't know where to put. (A great majority of which do not even belong in the house, like miter saws, but not sure where to put it...although I have a pretty good place in mind...) And the old house is a mess of things that aren't used everyday, but we still might like to have. Things like slow cookers and treadmills and the entire contents of my closet...pretty much all of MY stuff! (To his credit, the husband was sufficiently ashamed of himself that we had managed to move all of his clothes, and all of the kids clothes and I was still wearing the same T-shirt for 4 days. Not enough to help me though.)
With all these things hanging over my head, I have decided that today is the day...that I do NONE of it! I'm sitting on my new deck, in 65 degree, beautiful spring weather. Wearing sunglasses. Sipping red wine from a plastic cup with Easter eggs on it. (I, of course, remembered to bring the corkscrew!) Typing on my netbook, and loving the invention of wireless internet routers. And you know what? I don't even feel bad about! I've been working hard for three months, and every once in awhile, I just need a break.
Tomorrow. That's when I'm really gonna get to work...and when the diet starts...and all the drinks are free...
First things first, we removed our beds, which of course have to be completely disassembled by the husband and the cordless drill/driver. ("Hey, do remember what I did with the screws for this?") We plucked them from the knee-deep mess surrounding them and moved them first. We did the same thing to the couches, except without the luxury of taking them apart. ("Okay, I think we have to tip it...no, the other way...now pivot...okay, okay, set it down...let me think about this for a minute...")
So we have horizontal places to lay down and sit at the new house. Uh, did we remember clothes? Another trip. I forgot to grab any shampoo or towels! Another trip. Mommy, can I have a bowl of cereal? Of course, honey, I grabbed milk and cereal...uh...but forgot bowls. Another trip. Where's the spoons? [Insert profanity here]
Now we've had to pause the major moving so the husband can go back to work, which leaves the "details" up to me. The new house is a mess of things that I just don't know where to put. (A great majority of which do not even belong in the house, like miter saws, but not sure where to put it...although I have a pretty good place in mind...) And the old house is a mess of things that aren't used everyday, but we still might like to have. Things like slow cookers and treadmills and the entire contents of my closet...pretty much all of MY stuff! (To his credit, the husband was sufficiently ashamed of himself that we had managed to move all of his clothes, and all of the kids clothes and I was still wearing the same T-shirt for 4 days. Not enough to help me though.)
With all these things hanging over my head, I have decided that today is the day...that I do NONE of it! I'm sitting on my new deck, in 65 degree, beautiful spring weather. Wearing sunglasses. Sipping red wine from a plastic cup with Easter eggs on it. (I, of course, remembered to bring the corkscrew!) Typing on my netbook, and loving the invention of wireless internet routers. And you know what? I don't even feel bad about! I've been working hard for three months, and every once in awhile, I just need a break.
Tomorrow. That's when I'm really gonna get to work...and when the diet starts...and all the drinks are free...
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Put Mom in the picture!
I was going through our pictures and videos from the last year, which were many because of the new baby and all that. I noticed someone missing. Mommy. I have about four pictures of myself with my new offspring, counting the ugly "hospital" pic and the group shot at Christmas. So here is my little "suggestion" for the week...get in the picture! Hand the camera to your husband or older child and have a couple pics of Mom. Take a video. At a group function, trade cameras with another woman so you are in your own pictures! (Don't forget to trade back...what was on that memory card, anyway?) My point is, I am always the one behind the camera. I'm sure my little guy would like a few pics of his mommy, too.
(Side note, make a point to take a picture of just you and your husband periodically. Prove that life is not "all about the kids" in your photo albums too!)
(Side note, make a point to take a picture of just you and your husband periodically. Prove that life is not "all about the kids" in your photo albums too!)
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
He Shall From Time To Time
Tonight is the State of the Union Address, and for once I'm actually excited to watch it! Having been subjected to, shall we say...less than eloquent speeches for most of my adult life, I am looking forward to hearing from someone who has proven himself to be a gifted public speaker. (Whether you agree with what he has to say is an entirely different matter, the guy knows his oratory!)
So I thought I would share with you a few bits of trivia about this well known speech:
So I thought I would share with you a few bits of trivia about this well known speech:
- Article II, Section 3 of the Constitution states: He shall from time to time give to the Congress information of the state of the union, and recommend to their consideration such matters as he shall judge necessary and expedient...
- This doesn't mean that it has to be a speech! After Washington (who gave the shortest state of the union speech, only 833 words!) and Adams delivered their speeches, Thomas Jefferson chose to deliver his to the Congress in writing. (We all know he was good with the pen, after all!) The subsequent presidents followed Jefferson's lead until Woodrow Wilson chose to deliver his in person. All presidents since Wilson have chosen to deliver theirs in person as well.
- Calvin Coolidge was the first president to have his speech broadcast over the radio. Harry S. Truman was the first to give his speech on television.
- Truman gave the longest speech, at over 25,000 words! Franklin D. Roosevelt gave the most speeches, 12. He is also the one to move the speech from afternoon to evening so that more Americans could hear it. (So blame him tonight when there's nothing on TV!
I encourage you all to take part in this small display of our Constitution at work. Plus, people might be talking about it around the watercooler tomorrow, and you don't want to look like an idiot!
Here is a cute recipe, from the Dinner and a Movie Cookbook, just for the occasion!
State of the Onion Soup
-1/4 cup butter
-2 lbs red, yellow and white onions, sliced thin
-5 cloves of garlic, minced
-1/2 cup dry red wine
-3 cups rich beef broth
-1 Tbsp Dijon mustard
-4 slices sourdough bread
-2 cups shredded Swiss Gruyere cheese
1. Melt butter in a large pot. Saute onions and garlic slowly until very tender and golden.
2. Add wine and 1 cup broth. Increase heat to med-high, and simmer 5 minutes until reduced.
3. Stir in remaining broth and mustard, simmer 20 min or until warm. Salt and pepper to taste.
4. Preheat broiler. Ladle soup into oven safe bowls. Top each bowl with a slice of bread and a generous amount of cheese. Broil until cheese is bubbly.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
My 2010 Project
As previously mentioned, the husband's father passed away this fall after a brief battle with cancer. The husband has inherited grandpa's house, located on a few acres just outside of town. As the husband and I are renters, the "gift" of a house will be put to good use!
Kind of. Grandpa was an older man living alone, so the house, while perfect for a bachelor, is QUITE small. And the builders clearly got a good deal on hideous knotty pine paneling, because it's in almost every room. And grandpa, God love him, was not big into throwing things away. (He's from that Great Depression era)
We've slowly been cleaning out the house, and I have begun the painting process. Every room is getting painted, both to freshen things up and to hide the ugly paneling. The kitchen cabinets, even the counter tops are getting painted. (I had a dream of me walking in there with a paint sprayer and just hosing the place, but I think I'll stick to brushes and rollers.) But that stuff is just for the short term, because the big project will be the remodel!
The husband and I sat down with a designing program and drew up a plan that will hopefully be "cost effective" (read: cheap) and still give us the space we want. The existing structure was once a studio "cabin" with attached garage. When the couple had a baby, they sectioned off the garage to make bedrooms. (When they had their second baby they bought a bigger place, if that helps you get a mental picture of the size of the house!)
Our plan is to turn the bedrooms back into a garage, and make the kitchen/dining/livingroom into a large, hearth-style kitchen. The dining room, livingroom, master suite and a small bedroom and bath will be in the new addition. In the attic space will be two more bedrooms, a bathroom and a rec room of sorts.
The husband plans to do the lion's share of the construction himself. (Both to save money on labor and also because he is super picky about this kind of thing!) I've seen the other houses he has built when he was working construction full time, and I feel pretty confident with his ability to pull this off! As things progress, I'll probably be adding pics to my project blog, so if you are interested in that sort of thing, you can check there for updates.
I know that we will be able to make this tiny house into a home and have the space for the husband's projects and my own! It will be the perfect place to raise our children...I think grandpa would approve!
Kind of. Grandpa was an older man living alone, so the house, while perfect for a bachelor, is QUITE small. And the builders clearly got a good deal on hideous knotty pine paneling, because it's in almost every room. And grandpa, God love him, was not big into throwing things away. (He's from that Great Depression era)
We've slowly been cleaning out the house, and I have begun the painting process. Every room is getting painted, both to freshen things up and to hide the ugly paneling. The kitchen cabinets, even the counter tops are getting painted. (I had a dream of me walking in there with a paint sprayer and just hosing the place, but I think I'll stick to brushes and rollers.) But that stuff is just for the short term, because the big project will be the remodel!
The husband and I sat down with a designing program and drew up a plan that will hopefully be "cost effective" (read: cheap) and still give us the space we want. The existing structure was once a studio "cabin" with attached garage. When the couple had a baby, they sectioned off the garage to make bedrooms. (When they had their second baby they bought a bigger place, if that helps you get a mental picture of the size of the house!)
Our plan is to turn the bedrooms back into a garage, and make the kitchen/dining/livingroom into a large, hearth-style kitchen. The dining room, livingroom, master suite and a small bedroom and bath will be in the new addition. In the attic space will be two more bedrooms, a bathroom and a rec room of sorts.
The husband plans to do the lion's share of the construction himself. (Both to save money on labor and also because he is super picky about this kind of thing!) I've seen the other houses he has built when he was working construction full time, and I feel pretty confident with his ability to pull this off! As things progress, I'll probably be adding pics to my project blog, so if you are interested in that sort of thing, you can check there for updates.
I know that we will be able to make this tiny house into a home and have the space for the husband's projects and my own! It will be the perfect place to raise our children...I think grandpa would approve!
Monday, January 11, 2010
In defence of my SUV
For those who may not know me in "real" life, let me assure you that I am interested in the conservation of our natural resources. I use re-usable shopping bags, I try to recycle the things I can, and I am cloth diapering my infant son. In my ultra-conservative, rural town I'm actually known as a bit of a hippy. (Mostly because I don't like guns and I voted for Hilary.) But I do have a confession to make...I drive an SUV.
Everybody knows that they use more gas. I know this. My wallet in particular is aware of this. But the fact remains that I need it. Here's why:
Everybody knows that they use more gas. I know this. My wallet in particular is aware of this. But the fact remains that I need it. Here's why:
- The seating. I have three full time kids and one "every once in awhile" kid, and a cute little sedan just isn't going to be enough. They claim it seats 5, but sitting next to a carseat is like sitting next to a fat lady on an airplane. Only not as squishy. My current vehicle has that fabulous little third row seat that folds down for hauling groceries and folds up for hauling kids around. (And every sane mother knows that you don't do both at the same time if you can help it!)
- The four-wheel-drive. I live in a northern climate. With snow and mud. I understand that some people drive SUV's as a status symbol. A lot of Gen X-ers like myself are (were?) driving SUVs because they thought they were somehow "cooler" than the minivans our mother's drove. But I live in the land of un-plowed gravel roads. I use my four wheel drive just to get my kids to school.
- It's paid for. I think that one speaks for itself.
The husband is really excited about buying me a scooter one of these days. (In fact, I think he really wants to ride one, but he thinks it will be an easier look to pull off if he's just playing around with "his wife's" toy.) They look really cute and European, and I would look really hot on one! (But I don't think there's room for the baby!) I'll continue to do my part to help conserve resources, but don't give me a hard time about my ride! They do serve a purpose for some of us. At least until I have the money to replace it with a hybrid or something else. Like a horse and buggy possibly...
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