Tag: humor

Handy Home Improving

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Any homeowner will say that the job of improving, maintaining and updating a home is never done. Even friends of ours that live in brand new houses are always doing something. Our story is the same – it’s always something.

That something (besides the dishwasher) was the master bathroom toilet. For weeks it would fill. STOP. Fiiillllll. STOP. Fiiiillll some more. STOP. And on and on until it was done filling. And because our water pipes are in the attic (yes East Coasters, they are in the attic because we don’t have to worry about them freezing) the process was heard throughout the house as the pipes banged with each pause. Not exactly what you want to hear at 3am – or worse, at 5:30am because the sound will inevitably wake up Baylie.

Now when Peter and I were both working, we would have certainly called a plumber and gladly handed over the $100+ to fix the toilet. We were both working 60+ hours a week and it made sense not to waste the precious time we had outside of the office on trying to fix something we know nothing about. But now that we only have 1 income, that’s no longer the case. And after a quick pep talk from my mom – the woman who can fix anything – Bay and I ventured out to the plumbing supply store. After a quick explanation and a new flush valve, we headed home to fix our commode.

Fixing a toilet is a challenge. Fixing a toilet with a busy, curious and eager-to-help 20 month old is an Olympic sport. Thankfully she was very content to play with the extra parts that came with the new valve (yes, there were supposed to be extra parts, I asked) and hand me rags to mop up the water. 20 minutes after we started we were calling everyone we knew to make them listen to the toilet flush without pausing. Yes, we fixed it and fixed it right in one try – $20 worth of parts, a patient salesman at the plumbing supply, some elbow grease and a blind eye to the fact that there was toilet water leaking onto the floor and we did it. The best part is that when we called Peter, A. he was stumped by what the hell I was asking him to listen too and B. was convinced I had called a plumber. When I actually showed him what I had to do to fix it, he was most impressed.

I contemplated taking pictures of my work in anticipation of a blog, but realized that pictures of the back of the toilet was pushing it. However, this goes down as my new “best” when it comes to home improvement. Next up: sprinkler repair!

Appliances With Attitude

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Almost four years ago we moved home to Arizona from Washington DC. We had decided we were going to renovate our rental house for us to live in and started the project prior to our 40 hour drive across the country. We walked in to this:

More than once we had a “Oh sh*t. What have we started??” moment. But the house came together beautifully and 9 months after we started, we ended up with this:

We had only minor snafus along the way – one of them being the dishwasher installation. Because we were total novices at remodeling a house and managing the contractor and the sub contractors, supplies (we learned the hard way to buy our own materials and hire someone to install them) and the physical work we did ourselves, we didn’t catch that we had measured the hight for the dishwasher from the sub-floor rather than the tiled floor. And when you’re using 1 inch thick and extremely inconsistent sized Saltillo tile, this is an issue. Long story short, we had to chip out the tile under the counter and in front in order to get the dishwasher in place. This resulted in a very serious condition called Appliance Attitude.

Yes, the damn thing developed a negative attitude towards work because he knew that he had job security. Often at night I would hear Dishwasher chuckling as I loaded up dirty dishes. Then in the morning when they were still dirty he would mumble under his breath “What are you going to do about it, lady? Chip out all the tile, haul me away, put in a new dishwasher, relay the tile and then seal it?? I don’t think so!! Mmmmwwwaaahhhaaaahhh!!”. Dirty bastard. And the worst part was he was right – it was way too much work to get a new dishwasher. So I called the factory service – who were no help. I changed detergents and even – gasp – washed the dishes before putting them in to be washed. Some of it helped, but not enough. So this past Christmas, we decided it was time. We were going to do the work and get something that actually cleaned our dishes instead of just making them appear clean but smell funny.

And that’s when it happened. Dishwasher decided he wasn’t going out in handcuffs, he was going out in a body bag.

Tuesday night I was settling into bed and Peter was working out on the couch when we both heard a very loud and ominous BANG. He came flying into the bedroom saying that he thought someone had thrown something at our front window. We both proceeded to investigate and Peter proceeded to ignore my snarky comments questioning why someone would choose to break the front window rather than one of the two glass doors on either side of the window to get into our house.  We settled on the dishwasher and when we opened it, we were greeted with a plume of smoke and steam. Not to mention all of the “clean” dishes were covered in a crunchy white substance. There was the telltale sign of a problem in the bottom of the dishwasher – a tube thingy was split wide open and a wire was hanging out – it reminded me of the Sad Mac face with two X’s for eyes and it’s tongue hanging out.

And so the process begins. The handy man is coming today to chip out the tile – the new super fancy and tested by my mom dishwasher comes tomorrow and by Saturday night, we’ll be washing dishes like normal people. And by sometime next week we won’t have a giant, tile-less section in our floor.

I did ask the salesman if the installation people who will be hauling away our POS would let me kick it – he didn’t laugh. There’s probably now a note in the delivery instructions to beware the crazy homeowner.

Are They Twins?

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Something baffling and hilarious happened the other night. It was a rare night where Peter was home from work earlier than 10 minutes before B goes to bed. So we were sitting on our front patio, enjoying the lovely 72 degrees and a glass of wine.

A neighbor who I recognize, but haven’t met (and probably won’t based on what happened next) walked by as she normally does in the evenings. Bay was being Bay and running around climbing into the chair, back out and then up onto the bench Peter and I were sitting on and then back. As our neighbor walked by we said hello, she responded and then smiled nicely and said “Are they twins?”

Perplexed, but trying not to be jerks, Peter and I smiled as we were clearly stumped. Were who twins? Us? The bench and the chair? Our dogs? About 5 seconds later, we realized she couldn’t quite see over the small wall that surrounds the patio and had thought our freakishly fast-moving 20 month old was 2 kids instead of one. So we explained that no, she’s just fast. The neighbor laughed and headed on her way.

I’d like to think she kept moving out of embarrassment and not out of pity for having a Tasmanian devil for a daughter.

Dream A Little Dream

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When I get overwhelmed, I find myself daydreaming of whatever I think would make whatever task I’m working on complete, or even just easier or more fun. In the middle of one of these daydreams while folding 3 heaping baskets of laundry, I “checked in” and realized A. how funny these thoughts are B. how totally unrealistic they are and C. how much better it makes me feel to think of how much happier I would be if I actually had them. So here’s my list:

– A person to come to my house once a week and give me a free, warp speed manicure and pedicure so that I don’t have to spend the time and or money on it and I don’t look like I have talons instead of finger nails.

– A relative who needs a guinea pig for facials and eye brow waxing.

– A floor where nothing ever sticks to your feet because it’s always clean.

– The ability to not only survive but thrive and concur the world on only three hours of sleep a night.

– Unlimited gift cards to the Container Store.

– Free overnight shipping from any website any time.

– Dishes and laundry that do themselves.

Sigh. I guess it’s all wishful thinking until I find a bottle with a genie in it. Or wine. Whatever comes first.

What The Mary Poppins?

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Because B has been sick all week, we’ve been doing a lot of nothing. Our day consists of  administering Tylenol, Vicks Vapor Rub and sitting in the bathroom with the shower on and breathing in the steam. Pretty much anything that will help her breathe easier and recover from this nasty virus.

We started watching Mary Poppins two days ago – one of my all time favorite movies as a kid. As we continued watching it last night, I realized one thing – this is a strange movie. Like Alice in Wonderland / alternate meaning to scenes weird.

First, why is the neighbor’s house shaped like a ship and why does he fire off cannons? I’m not so weirded out by Mary and the children’s trip into the sidewalk chalk paintings, I am however disturbed that Mary then denies that they did this later. And what the hell is the scene with Uncle Albert all about?! Why are they all on the ceiling laughing and having a tea party?? I also think it would be Uncle Albert’s picture  next to “child molester” in the dictionary. I was going to add a picture to the post, but it freaked me out to look at it long enough to save it and add it in…

Thinking back, my other favorite movie as a kid was Old Yeller. For anyone who hasn’t seen this movie – the lovable dog and title character is shot by his master at the end of the movie because he has rabies. When I realized as an adult what actually happened to Old Yeller, I was a little concerned what this said about me and my personality. The more I thought about it, I didn’t realize the owner was killing OY. So really, I should be less concerned about deep psychological issues and more concerned with the fact that I was apparently a very dense child (yes Peter, I said CHILD. Not adult and no, there is no need for a correction).

So today, I’m feeling a little like Phoebe (from Friends, not the dog that we found last weekend) when she realized that her mother had edited all the movies she saw as a kid and never knew the full meaning behind them. I’m now a little afraid too of watching anymore childhood favorites for fear I will learn that they too have some coo coo meaning and or further prove that I was in fact, a very dumb kid.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

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This past Sunday morning we hosted a small brunch for a group of friends. While prepping the delicious dishes we would be enjoying, I noticed two dogs sniffing around in our front yard.

And thankfully this time, they weren’t our dogs out there unbeknownst to us.

At first, I thought they were our drunk neighbor’s dogs who he lets roam the hood to poop in other people’s yards. If the neighbors complain, he comes over and picks up his dog’s “deposit” and claims he didn’t know they were out. Which we all know is a lie, but because we don’t want the drunk a-hole in our yard and he desperately wants to get back to his V-Dub bus with his cooler (not kidding, he sits in the back of it and drinks –  we don’t live in a hood, but I see where it sound like we do…) we all pretend that it’s true. Upon closer inspection, these dogs were wearing collars, something our drunk neighbor doesn’t find to be important. So I walked out front with a treat to see if either one of the dogs would come to me.

The Chow mix instantly took off, but the Black Lab came right to me. Her tag said her name was Phoebe and she instantly assumed the “gopher” position – sitting down but with her paws in the air – and absolutely adorable. So I called the number on her tag and left a  message for the owner that she was with us and her friend was most likely close by. You see, Bear T. Dog got out of our yard several years ago and was found on a semi busy road by a very sweet woman who coaxed him into her car right after witnessing him almost being run over. So in an effort to repay the cosmos for the favor of returning the sweet and “uses-his-brain-for-evil-rather-than-good” Bear, I tied Phoebe to our bench out front and gave her some water. I was assuming that her owners would be calling any minute frantic that their dog(s) were gone.

An hour passed. Another hour passed and still nothing. We had friends over for brunch and still no call. All the while Phoebe sat on our bench, laid in the shade, barked at passers-by and lapped up her water.

Until her collar broke.

Peter went in from the back patio where we were having brunch to check on the napping kiddo and found that her very old plastic collar snap had broken and Phoebe was nowhere to be found. I called the number from her tag again and still, no answer.

So now in an effort to do a good deed, I’ve not only not found this dog’s owner, but I’ve let her run back out into the wild with no collar. Awesome.

The strangest part is that the owner has still never returned my voicemail. In an effort to keep myself from imagining horrible scenarios and crying myself to sleep while clutching Bear under one arm and Travis under the other, I’ve decided that both dogs have found their way home and the owner chalked the voicemail up to a drunk dial.

Bear says: “What is this ‘uses-his-brain-for-evil-rather-than-good’ business?!? Oh, and do you think you could bother to get me a haircut?? I’m starting to get dreds in my beard. And stop feeding random dogs my treats, damn it.”

January is Not Our Month

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Our family calendar:

Phew. I am so happy to see February. It seems that January 2011 has turned into our “sick month”. We started out with the stomach flu two weeks ago.

Then last week, Baylie suffered a buckle fracture in her ankle. No, I was not drinking wine and ignoring the child. She was actually at the Little Gym and is trying very hard to learn to jump. She launched herself off of a 10 inch high piece of equipment and sort of decided mid jump to make it a big step instead of a jump and landed awkwardly on her left foot. I knew instantly something was wrong – she had the “I just got 4 vaccinations” cry and then she wouldn’t walk. This kid was crawling at 6 months, she lives to move especially when she’s with her buddies so for her to insist on sitting in my lap for the remainder of class was a huge red flag. Only our kid gets hurt in a literally padded room. Thankfully the doctor insists that it will be totally fine, it’s not going to affect her softball career later in life nor is it a sign on any problem with her bones. He said it’s actually pretty common and minor enough that they don’t cast it. She’s getting around fine by crawling or scooting and has been walking more and more. I caught her trying to climb into her crib yesterday to get a pacifier so I’m thinking she’s milking it a little for the extra carry time by mom and all the pacifiers she can stand.

Thinking we’ve had our fill of doctors and hospitals for the year, I was resistant to the idea that Bay was a little congested yesterday morning. I tried to blame her phlegmy cough on her yogurt but no luck. By the time she woke up from her nap she was wheezing like an asthmatic and again, only wanted to be snuggled. It’s never a good sign when she wants to sit still. 3 hours of Vick’s Plug In Vapors, the frog shaped humidifier cranked up to high and watching Baby Einstein snuggled together in her room, she climbed out of our chair and wanted to play with her kitchen set – whenever she wants to try to feed Bear T. Dog a fake hot dog, things are looking up.

I’m very much not looking forward to yet another trip to the doctor today. Mostly because I don’t want to sit on the sick kid side of the waiting room. The only other time we’ve been to the doctor for being sick (yes, we’re extremely lucky that B is almost two years old and this is the first time she’s been sick) I thought she had an ear infection so we sat on the “well” side because I didn’t want her to catch anything. I don’t think the other moms and nannys are going to take kindly to my wheezing, juicy coughing kiddo on the well side so I’m going to have to bite the bullet, sanitize our chairs and hold my breath like the big girl that I am.

Is it February yet?

Resolution Backfire

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Per my New Year’s Resolution to do more gardening so that I can show B where food really comes from, we did a big gardening day a few weekends ago. Peter completed the “salad table”, I planted the rose bushes I got for Christmas, Freesia bulbs and Amaryllis bulbs, carrot and onion seeds, and lastly prepped the raised bed to plant tomatoes next month. I also fertilized everything within an inch of their little plant lives.

All the while Baylie was hard at work digging, putting rocks in a bucket, and moving her toys from her play house to the raised bed garden and then back using her wagon. Engrossed in digging holes, I didn’t realize Bay had traveled through the open bedroom door to retrieve my favorite Tory Burch flats left on the floor. She proceeded to fill them with dirt and rocks and then present them to me with a look of satisfaction that only a mother could appreciate. She was so proud of herself, I had to laugh! Thankfully, they were easily emptied and no damage.

I’m now showing her how to fill pots rather than shoes.

Stomach Flu 3 : Wands 0

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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!

Picture Perfect

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I got this picture frame for Christmas and I love it. It’s a chalkboard frame and it matches the chalkboard wall in our kitchen so it’s a huge hit with all of us. I finally decided which picture to put in it and what to write on it: