So this is belated, but it’s still funny so here goes.
My sister gave me the following two gifts:
My first thought was “amazing gifts that will get used daily”. Then I started to think about what her gifts say about me:
1. I have great sister who really knows me.
2. I got two gifts that will definitely get use.
3. I may have a bit of a caffeine addiction.
4. Perhaps I talk a little too much about my love of wine.
5. My sister is a smart ass.
Warning: don’t read this over lunch 🙂
What the hell is this? Let me explain…
Baylor had the pleasure of contracting the stomach flu last week and then spreading it like wildfire to Peter and I and also various family members. Now a week later, a gallon of bleach and a washer that is tired of running 24 hours a day, I think it’s safe to say we’re done.
It started last Monday night. B woke up around midnight and after a quick rock, she was back out. I chalked it up to a bad dream. Two hours later, she was back awake and it was then I realized she was awake because she had tossed her cookies all over her crib. I felt like a horrible mom for not realizing the first time she was awake, but I don’t turn on the light when I go in and check on her and she didn’t feel wet…anyway, put a check in the “bad mom” column. Peter and I spent the rest of the night rotating on the couch with her and a bucket.
But by 7am, she was pale, but in good spirits. A day of the BRAT diet and it was like nothing happened so I assumed she had eaten something that didn’t agree with her or maybe a leaf from the backyard or something. So we had our play date with her cousin on Wednesday. And then I ended up in the ER that evening from the same virus. I broke my record of only having been in the hospital for my birth and then Baylie’s. Thankfully two bags of fluids, some pain meds and something to stop the vomiting and I was like new – or at least able to walk without being hunched over a bucket. I kind of remember Peter saying to the triage nurse “Listen, you couldn’t pay this woman to walk barefoot across a hospital floor let alone curl up in a ball and clutch your trash can on it”. It was ugly – but if I had to choose, I would so rather I have gotten the worse version than B. We’re very blessed that we have lots of family and all close and willing to help out so Bay went to Grandma’s house the next day and my sister came over in the afternoon after work to check in on me.
While this was great for me, it turns out it was awful for our family. We single-handedly spread the nasty bug to my sister, my sister-in-law, her infant daughter and my mother in law. When Peter came down with it this weekend, we decided it was time to quarantine ourselves and break out the bleach. The picture above is every toy that Bay has touch in the last week that would survive a bleach bath. This is them drying after soaking. Anything that could go in the dish washer, clothes washer or sink of bleach did so. The few remaining, battery operated toys got a through cleaning with antiseptic and hot water. Baylie loves to clean so being given her own pack of alcohol wipes and free rein to wipe anything and everything was like heaven. By Saturday afternoon, our home no longer smelled like a frat house after a date dash but rather a school cafeteria after it had been swabbed with bleach post lunch.
I may have burned out my sense of smell, but our house is clean, we’re all well and I won’t get any more calls from family letting me know that they too have contracted the virus from us.
That said, I wrote several blogs last weekend that didn’t get posted. So if you’re reading one about gardening that refers to “last weekend” just know it was last last weekend. And wash your hands and stay away from anyone who even KNOWS someone who has the flu!
Do you enjoy reading The Goon Room? Does it make you laugh, smile and help pass the boring hours at work? Can you relate, disagree or have you made one of the recipes I’ve posted? Then please rate The Goon Room on The Mom Blogs! Note the new link in the blog roll on the right —->
Link to new page on The Mom Blogs:
http://themomblogs.com/blogs/detail.php?link_id=11847
As always, thank you for reading. I enjoy writing and especially love writing The Goon Room and it’s huge that you all take the time to read and comment. I’ll remember you in the acknowledgments of my first book.
I really don’t like resolutions. I feel like they make what is already a sad time of year worse. There’s nothing more depressing than knowing the fun, socializing, decorating, getting and giving, drinking and eating of the holidays are over and now I’m supposed to add a new and undoubtedly unfun thing into my life too? No gracias.
Thankfully for me, I don’t have any vices I’m willing to give up. We’re planning to have more kids some day so I’ll give up the drinking then – why put off that good bottle of wine on a random Thursday night now? I don’t smoke so I’ve got a big check mark next to that resolution and I wear sunscreen and my seatbelt so we’re good there too. I already work out and I’m near wedding weight so that’s covered. I already pinch our pennies, clip coupons and work any discount possible so that’s out.
The two things I’ve come up with are actually very fun resolutions so the chances of sticking with them are good. First, I need to get back into volunteering more. I love Pets On Wheels as written about in Give A Little Bit, but I’ve gotten away from it because it can be a hassle wrangling Travis T. Dog and the kiddo into the car and then through the nursing home. Last time we were there, a resident was coloring which Bay was all to happy to help out with. It’s always a toss up whether someone is a baby person or a dog person and this lady was not a baby person. It was a little exhausting getting B out of her room without the markers and with little screaming. But I think I build it up too much in my head and need to just take it for what it is. If we stay for 45 or 15 minutes, that’s good enough and that’s what I need to focus on.
Second, I’m going to get serious about growing our garden. I love to be in the yard and I love to grow beautiful flowers, but I tend to become a slacker on fruits and veggies once it starts to get hot and requires more work to keep the plants producing and or alive. But I really want Baylie to know that food doesn’t come from the grocery, but from the ground. So in addition to the two beautiful new rose bushes I got for Christmas, we’re going to plant carrots and scallions in the same planter. Then our usual two tomatoes, but I’m going to put in some serious effort to keep them alive past May. The jalapeno and sweet pepper that already exist and produce despite zero attention are going to get some serious TLC. Peter is building us a Martha Stewart inspired lettuce table that will be home to spinach, red leaf, butter lettuce and also strawberries – it’s my damn lettuce table and if I want it to be a lettuce and strawberry table, so be it.
Lastly, as soon as it’s warmer than 60 degrees out, B and I are going to plant the flower bulbs that I put out every year. Growing up, we always had pots of bulbs in the windows of our house. There was nothing prettier to me than the little green shoots on a dark, cold morning. Something about them made me feel like it wasn’t going to be cold and dark forever because spring was just around the corner.
I think any more than this amount of self improving would be like trying to make a sunset prettier…it would just be too much 😉
Baylie and I hit the park to play and feed the ducks at least twice a week. B climbs up to the BIG slide and swirls her way down to the sand. Then back up and back down at least 10 times. It wears her out and builds up her coordination. Educational AND exhausting – my favorite combination.
The ducks and geese at the park are very people friendly. If you walk towards them, they walk towards you in anticipation of snacks. I would even venture to say too friendly as the geese hiss at you if you’re not fast enough with the stale graham crackers. But it doesn’t phase Bay, she throws a few broken crackers, eats a few and enjoys making duck sounds.
Yesterday marked the second time I regulated on some kid at the park. It’s never very busy, but there is inevitably some kid, usually a boy, that is there with a baby sitter or a parent on a cell phone. And thus, the kid is running wild and not in a good way. They run past the toddlers on the playground nearly knocking them over. They scream “NO BABIES!!” in my munchkins’ face. Or they chase and kick at the ducks as we are feeding them. Sadly for them, I’m not that mom that ignores this kind of behavior, especially if it’s going to hurt my kid or an animal.
The part that really ticks me off is that the guardian of the two kids I’ve yelled at never say a word. They just ignore the fact that a stranger has disciplined (or attempted to) their kid. Maybe they are embarrassed, or maybe they really don’t care – but I really want to know, why do mom’s allow their sons to be so abusive? I know the saying “boys will be boys” which, I get, to an extent. I’ve babysat for three brothers 5 days a week for at least 2 summers so I get boys being rougher on each other and their need to wrestle (this post isn’t about them, btw, they were a blast – mostly because I won most of the wrestling matches). But are parents really teaching their kid to be a decent human being by letting them strike at a defenseless animal or worse, child? I’m not saying it’s easy to do. It’s not fun having to tell your child no or wait out a temper tantrum (I actually have no problem with this because I have no shame) in public, but it’s necessary. I think the thing that is easy to forget is that we’re not raising kids, we’re raising small adults. And if we’re not the one’s to tell them to behave, is that because we think it will be better if they hear it from their teacher, or worse, their boss some day?
The spring cleaning bug has bitten at our house. Peter and I have gotten into the “clean up, clean out, organize and get rid of it” mode. Slowly but surely, we’re making our way through the closets, the cabinets and the toy bins (yes, there are more than one) and getting organized. And hopefully getting enough stuff out to make a few bucks at a garage sale.
It’s amazing the amount of crap that you accumulate – especially when you have kids. It becomes very apparent after Christmas and birthdays when there is an influx of new toys and clothes. Or after a growth spurt where the “too small” clothes are tangled in a pile with the new clothes.
Because we are planning to have more than one child, we don’t get rid of a lot of Baylie’s stuff. Rather, we clog up most of my parent’s storage unit, which they are undoubtedly regretting offering us to use. As first time parents and first grandchild for my mom, there is an excess of stuff. We didn’t have 4 bottles, we had 10. And 10 of the various size nipples that are required for each stage of baby-hood. Don’t get me started on clothes – first grandchild, girl, first child – enough said. I could build her a full size house out of the storage bins of just clothes. Toys that she has grown out of, the baby bath that’s too small, the beastly stroller we used until she was big enough to fit in the jogger and two baby carrier car seats all are wrapped in trash bags (we’re classy organizers) and marked waiting for their next owner.
That said, I have come across a lot of stuff that I just don’t think we need to hang on to. Like stuffed animals, we have 29,000 of them and maybe 5 get played with. I’m not saying I’m the grinch and I’m going to get rid of them all, but some of the little trinket ones need to goooo. And the books that have been chewed up, torn apart and ripped up are out.
Moving on to my side of the closet….When you gain and lose 50 lbs over a 2 year period, the sizes of clothing in your closet vary wildly. There’s the pre-pregnancy clothing (aka, the skinny bitch stuff), the gaining-a-few-pounds sizes, the starting-to-need-elastic-waist pants, the super-cute-maternity clothes and finally the whatever-will-fit-over-my-ass-belly-boobs-and-doesn’t-look-too-bad clothes. And the process reverses after the baby is here. As the pounds have come off, I’ve moved clothes to what else, a storage bin. But I’ve never done a full sweep of the closet and the off-season stuff I put in storage under the bed. I’m more than half way through, just two drawers and accessories to go!
Peter has been hard at work in the garage. We have a great garage; it holds two cars and lot of stuff, which is both great and terrible as it tends to get messy easily. Thus causing me to walk through a maze of Costco paper towels, boxes of diapers, the jogger, the wagon, a bag of trash…the list goes on. He totally changed the layout of the storage racks and added a HUGE work table complete with peg boards and a new miter saw. Not sure how that’s helping us organize…but it is helping him make me a new “lettuce table”. More to come on that in a later post. It’s nice having a hubby who can sue people AND make stuff.
The kitchen, office and laundry rooms are next on my list. I think the level of difficulty will go in that order with the hardest being the laundry. We have a lot of great storage, but do not utilize it well which means a lot of extra work trying to decide the most efficient way to set it up. Currently it is the catch-all for a lot of crap – I found dog treats under a lot of other crap on the counter across from the washer the other day and started to freak out. I was picturing being on that show Hoarders and finding things I haven’t seen in years when I finally clean out all the junk. It was a frightening thought and has only fed my need to keep going!
I hope all of you had a wonderful Christmas, we certainly did. Our goal was to cut back on the retail side of the holiday as mentioned in Christmas in August. And the result was a success. We had a wonderful holiday with little stress and a lot of fun.
The only real downer of the weekend was our annual spat driving to my step sister’s house Christmas morning. We get together with all of our family and in a deluge of paper, open presents. It’s crazy and so much fun. But for the third year in a row, there has been an argument that has thankfully ended happily while we drive. Not sure if it’s the early hour, the getting-three-people-out-the-door-on-time or what, but there’s always something. Last year the climax of the fight was me saying “It’s done! I’ve already bought all the gifts so no matter what we spent, it’s done! So you’re going to drop it and we’re going to have a happy, goddamn Christmas!!”. Followed by three seconds of silence and then a car full of laughter. You know it’s bad when swear words are in the same sentence as Christmas. This year’s argument ended similarly with me saying “I might be grouchy, but you’re throwing out the bait and I’m taking it!!”. Silence…me realizing that none of that made any sense, laughter and then it’s over.
Updated with a great pic of me and Ms.B:
I have a very large family and we get together often. But they’re almost all informal and involve food that doesn’t require utensils and paper plates. But for the holidays, we like to get a little fancier. The problem is that collectively, we have enough plates, silverware and cloth napkins for everyone. But alone, we come up short. So for each holiday there is a parade of items that travels from one house to the host house for use. I’ve pillaged my mom’s supplies for so many years of Thanksgiving’s and Easter’s, I don’t even need a list of what I need to borrow and she usually just has it all out for me. 10 plates, the spare silverware, serving pieces, bake ware, a table-cloth or two and always the really pretty folding chairs all make their way to our house. It’s not that I don’t have these items myself, it’s that I don’t have enough for 18 people and 5 kids.
This Christmas is no exception. The folding chairs are in the back of the car already. Linen napkins too. My pretty silver shell dish is awaiting shrimp cocktail for Christmas morning and a spare “giant” table-cloth (we describe the length of the various table cloths that my mom and I own not in feet, but by the length of the table. I.E. “with one leaf in or with all three leafs in”. We have really big tables) is ready to go. And so the parade of items makes its way back across town. It just wouldn’t feel like the holidays if someone wasn’t walking in with chairs under one arm.
I had great hopes to write a lovely blog today regarding happiness. unfortunately, two vaccinations and a new tooth on the verge of breaking through the gum line created an unholy combination of pain that lead to a 3 hour melt down. I didn’t know the kid could actually cry that much. She was to the point of tear-less sobs and on the verge of dry heaving. All of my usual tricks did nothing – she sat in her bubble bath clenching two pacifiers and screaming with the third in her mouth. I even busted out chocolate milk thinking it might sooth the savage beast, but no. I resorted to driving her around on the 101 for about 40 minutes. It finally did the trick – she calmed down enough to fall asleep and then snuggle in once we got home.
I’m now exhausted, still staring at my to do list to get ready for the out-of-control huge brunch we’re throwing Sunday, tripping over the pile of presents to be wrapped and ignoring the fact that the dogs are in desperate need of a bath. I’m also seriously considering throwing in the towel and having a cocktail and nap myself….
There are many lessons that Baylie has taught me. The two latest ones I’m still working on…
First, I’ve learned that I cannot rattle off a list of things we’re going to do anymore. I got into the habit of thinking out loud when Baylie was little. I read somewhere that it was good for their verbal skills or something. Now, it’s just a habit. I tend to list out the next things on our list like “Ok, lets pick up the toys, wash our hands and then we’ll get some dinner”. While this doesn’t seem like a big deal, to a kiddo who loooves to climb the stool to the sink in the bathroom, turn on the water and then splash around, this is music to her ears. She doesn’t hear the order of the tasks to be completed, all she hears is “TIME TO PLAY IN THE WATER!!!!”. Which results in her running away while my back is turned and helping herself to a sink full of fun.
Second, I cannot say a negative direction. Meaning, saying “Don’t spit out that carrot!” will result in her spitting out the carrot because I have said the word “spit” (I would like to thank Daddy for teaching her that one. Yes, Peter, it is important for her to spit out the toothpaste, however, she spits out EVERYTHING!!). Instead, I have to say “Please chew and swallow what is in your mouth” in order to avoid a deluge of partially chewed veggies.
Lastly, no matter how many times I try to sound out a word and ask her to repeat it, she will always say “da da”. Duh-uck = da da. Treee = da da. Airplane = air pane. Oddly, that’s the one she knows, can say and identify. Sigh…
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