(Image from Junkmail for Blankets Blog)"Mom. Do you have nailclippers?" Clint asks at 6:15 this morning as he charges into my bedroom with a toenail crisis of what I assume are epic proportions.
Good Morning. I guess night time is over.
In the olden days when I was a cherished wife, I would get a kiss and a "Love you" every morning as a gentle wake up call. Now I get a loud, unorganized 18 year old with not a drop of "gee, she doesn't have to get up til 7:30, maybe I'll quietly get ready" sense in him.
"In the middle drawer in my bathroom. I only have big ones."
"Where are some small ones?"
"I don't know. You guys keep taking them. I bought half a dozen at Christmas and gave each of you two in your stockings. You lose them like house keys. (17 lost front door keys so far in 2 years.) Or sooeys." (When the kids were babies I would buy soothers every week when I did groceries. Where did they all go? I have a feeling that when I am standing at the pearly gates, the Patron Saint of All Things Lost will direct me to a tickle-trunk on wheels with a pull handle filled with soothers, house keys, nail clippers, remote control battery covers, hair elastics and reading glasses.
"Huh? Where are some small clippers?"
"I don't know. Close the door on your way out, OK?"
I'm asleep again even before he leaves the room. (Why couldn't I do that when they were babies? I was sleep deprived for years because it took me so pickin long to settle down after they ate. Maybe I should've had 'em when I was in my 40's. Falling asleep at the drop of a hat doesn't seem to be a problem these days.)
At 7:30 I went to wake up Max.
"Cough. Cough. Schnurfle. Hork. I was ub all night not breaving. Cab I stay home in the morning and you cab take me at noon?"
At 8:00 I woke Drew up.
He hates mornings and hates school. He is angry. He has decided he hates all breakfast food. He's grumpy and mean.
There was no joy in whoville today.
Drew got picked up at 8:30.
My dad called at 9:00 requesting that I delete a post I stayed up til 1:00 am writing.
I dropped Max off at 11:30.
The I hit every red light this town of mine has to offer on my way to the office.
I crammed 5.5 hours of work into 2.5 hours.
After school, while my kids "relaxed" as is their God-given constitutional right, I tackled another weed patch. Then made supper while the kids argued over who's turn it was to empty out the dishwasher. They all did it last time.
Dinner was rushed as everyone under 44 in this house had a youth event to attend.
"We're taking the Durango," I was told. "We have to. We're going to take a load of chippies over to the youth house. Can't fit them in the Camero."
"But..."
I really don't like driving his car. I can't do the seatbelt up. There is no stretch to it. It fits Clint fine, but I'm like, well, twice his size probably. And it just feels really weird without a seatbelt on. I feel naked. Vulnerable. Unsafe. Criminal, even.
Besides the key is stuck in the ignition and the doors don't lock, so I can't park it anywhere besides home.
So I can't go to the gym again tonight.
Again.
Well, I probably wouldn't have been able to go anyways. I did a load of laundry while I made supper because I am a woman are we are infinitely able to muti-task like nobody's business.
In an effort to keep those track pants from shrinking up in length, I have them hanging over the railing to air dry.
What do people do? Stand around in their underwear and wait for their track pants to dry? Or do folks generally have a back-up pair? I need to know these things. New to this whole leisure wear world, I'm just not sure what the protocol is. I keep checking them every half hour to see if they're dry enough...
Anyway, after I dropped Drew off, I used my 1.5 free hours to do the supper dishes, throw a white load in the washing machine and check my bank statement online. I considered doing some writing. In fact I got a whole sentence assembled when I thought that maybe I could use the last 15 minutes of "my" time to read. I read the first chapter of the controversial "Into a Million Pieces" book then I felt guilty. Maybe I should read my Bible instead. It had been awhile since I'd spent some time in the Word.
By the time I moved the lamp over to the wing chair, found an extra cushion, adjusted the foot stool, hunted down a pair of glasses, got a notebook and pen and opened my Bible it was time to pick up Drew and his friend.
At 9:45 when we got back home after stopping at IGA to pick up more cold medicine, apple juice and fresh buns for tomorrow's lunches, Drew announced he had tons of homework to do. And it was all stuff he didn't "get".
"Jeremy's bedroom is 5.2 m long, 3.9 m wide, and 2.4 m high. It has a doorway 0.8 m by 2.0 m and two small windows each 1.75 m by 0.75 m.
How much wallpaper is needed to cover the walls? Show your work."
To do this properly one must understand congruent rectangles and rectangular prisms.
Now I know what that means.
But I was not happy to learn it.
Drew was even less enthused about me 'splaining it all to him.
We've both decided he will likely never apply for a position at Benjamin Moore in their wallpaper department. And that he will never ever under any circumstances be allowed to go to his Tuesday night 'youth' thing if his homework is not done.
Clint came home from youth declaring that he too has now caught The Cold. Which means I can look forward to another week of snot filled Kleenexes dotting the landscape.
At midnight, they all went to bed. Grumbling. No one wants to go to work or school tomorrow morning. That much was clear.
A few hours of sleep will not change their minds. They will wake up as pissy as they were when they went to sleep.
Happy Valentine's Day.
From my real world to yours.
...Just checked out a 23 year old friend's blog. If anyone should be living the 'chocolates and flowers' lifestyle, you'd think it'd be her. Turns out her Happy Heart Day was about as romantic and love-filled as mine:
"in other news, our washing machine committed suicide (again) and leaked all over the basement, our kitchen tap broke off late last night and leaked all over the kitchen (and through the floor into the basement), and i just finished doing the dishes in the tub.
oh yeah, happy valentine's day"
Peace to you...
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