Saturday, August 22, 2015

Week In The Life: day 6

Jude woke up at 2:30 a.m. He was so zonked last night, I thought he'd sleep like a rock and maybe I could spend a whole night in my bed with no child sleeping on my arm or sticking their finger in my belly button. No such luck.

I heard him beckon me and by the time I got to his room, he was already asking Titus(loudly), "Where Mommy at?!" As he ran to me in the pitch black of the room, I was overwhelmed with the mama love of "How does he know it's me, even in the dark?" I snuggled him up and put him back in his bed, thinking loving thoughts. He said, "Sit down, Mom. Hold-ma hand." I complied. What is more precious, this child or sleep? One day he'll be three and then four and then twenty...I'll sleep then. He drifted back off with me still thinking loving thoughts. As I tiptoed across the carpet-only a mother of a small child knows how noisy carpet fibers can be in the middle of the night-he let out another holler. 

That's when the terrorist negotiations began. 

"Son, go to bed. It's 2:30 in the morning!" As if he has a concept of time or would care one iota if he did. "I'll leave the door open. I'm right across the hall." <Holler> "If you don't knock it off, I'll close the door." <Holler> Door closed. <Louder hollering> Door back open. "You're going to wake up Dad. Do you want to wake up dad?" <Holler, >"NO!" Back and forth and back and forth until I caved to the terrorist and set us up on the couch. All the patience and loving, motherly thoughts were gone by then. 

By 5, when I heard Sean in the kitchen, I was able to roll out of Jude's grasp. I was able to spend thirty minutes with the Man. Over oatmeal, we talked about his schedule. He's supposed to have a "Day-Owed" on Tuesday as he's worked over 70 hours this week. Have I mentioned that already? Did I mention he worked 60 the week before and 50 the two weeks prior? That D/O is not guaranteed. The D/O can potentially be taken back if they have a need. I told him if the phone rings on Tuesday, I'm answering it. He was supposed to be back up call yesterday. They were short. They asked him to "help cover." He ended up in the longest room and worked 13 hours and then was on call the rest of the night. It's one thing if everybody is struggling, as a team, to get the work done. It's one thing if they're short staffed and everybody's schedule sucks for a while. It's one thing if the whole state of Virginia ends up in dire straights and everybody is stuck in long cases. It's a whole 'nother thing when people are dipping out at lunch time and one man is left doing the work of three people. It's a whole 'nother thing when one person is coming in when he's not on call, and when he's on call. I keep thinking it'll get better eventually, but eventually is starting to feel like it's never coming. I can't stand it when people take advantage. End Rant.

All of that was to set up the Quote of the Day. He was talking about one very young, new doctor. He said if that person steps at him, he's going to say, "Unless you have something magical to tell me about anesthesia, shut the eff up. Got an opinion? Start a blog." I told him, "You may want to drop the 'eff,' even if you don't say the actual F word. Eff implied is still unprofessional, not to mention un-Christ like. Also, let's back the insult train up. What is this, 'start a blog?' I am offended.'" It was mock insult, but still. He replied, "That's what people do when they have an opinion; they start a blog." Mmmm.

After I shuttle him out the door, I started writing this post. He called about thirty minutes later to tell me his car died. The engine simply quit, taking the steering with it. Thank God, he was able to pull into a parking lot. He hadn't made it to the interstate yet. He was able to bring it back to life while we were talking. We laughed, because what else can you do? Thinking of all the other stress he's under(work stuff, the financials of putting kids in school, attempting to get another job, all the house and motorhome stuff(read: my ideas he's yet to implement), etc etc), I innocently pondered, "Maybe this season is some test of God or attack by Satan." He responded, not overly kindly, "Chrissy! I need you to stop over spiritualizing everything. It's an eleven year old car." Sure, sure. I get it. But on top of everything else, now this? Yes, a new car has been a long time coming. The man-i-van stopped telling us the mileage and gas tank abundance years ago. It's a Nissan though, I thought it had another hundred thou to give us.


My dad called. He wanted to put in an offer on the house. A very expensive house that my parents have not seen in person. A house I would buy in a skinny minute, but that's a whoooooole lotta confidence in my opinion for the place they want to live out their retirement. I asked that my dad send my brother to see the house. That way, we can split the blame if they hate it. My brother agreed with me that the house is awesome, so they did it. They bought a house.

I texted my sister: Ultimate child win. I failed to mention the biker gang on one side and daycare on the other. Guess they shoulda bought me a pony when I was a kid.

Perhaps I'll wait til after they've seen it to joke like that.

I talked to my sister; work issues that would make me punch people in the face(in Jesus' name). I talked to Sean; work issues that would make me punch people in the face. "Oh, how nice! The Air Force is bestowing more blessings upon us," I mocked. I talked to my brother; I love the dailiness our relationship has become. I talked to my nephew; he keeps us ship shape with this Civil Air Patrol thing. That's a lot of phone time considering I never talk on the phone. The last phone call of the day was my mom calling to express how excited she is about the house. I suspect my dad put her up to it after I told him, "I'm the baby and therefore can't be blamed for anything, house or otherwise."


We had a pretty lazy day today. The kids were in and out. The tv was on for a bit, off for a bit. There seemed to be a lot of projects going on throughout the house. I started cleaning and it's like slipping into another world. I vacuumed the couch three times today. That seems excessive. I think crumbs fall out of my kids. If you get the vacuum out, ya might as well do the whole house. And if you're vacuuming, ya might as well mop. And clean the sinks and toilets and showers.
 And in the slippers I never wear, no less. I tripped over them and decided just to wear the doggone things. 

I think the toilets we have are original to the house(circa 1990's). I swear they were clean during the walk through, but at some point between the previous owners moving out and us moving in, rings formed. I have tried everything. EV-er-y-thing. As in, turned off the water and scrubbed the bowl with sandpaper. STILL. RINGS. I've done all the hippie happy earthy stuff. Straight up bleach. I've done the expensive Norwex all the way down to the cheap Works. It can make soda bottles blow up loud enough to hear a mile away, but it can't get the rings out of my toilet. I'm done. Sean's all, "Don't worry about it. We'll buy new toilets." But in the mean time, grr. 
 The two holes...We plan to do an entire bathroom reno eventually. A walk in shower, new sinks, toilet, rip out the soaker tub, possibly a small deck off the master. The whole nine. In the meantime(noticing a trend?), Sean wanted to at least switch out the shower head when we first moved in. I remember him running past me, "Quick! Where's the water shut off valve?!" I laughed. He was asking the wrong person. There were pictures there once upon a time, but they fell off the wall and shattered all over the bathroom floor. So now, holes. Almost as charming as the stenciled artwork. 
Practicing his smiles while working his way through half a bottle of soap. 

When that was done, it made sense to power wash the house. I've never used a power washer. We borrowed our neighbors. It's not nearly as powerful as I thought it would be and the whole experience seemed like a giant waste of time. I couldn't reach any of the second story windows. I couldn't keep the flipping hoses untangled. I won myself about a thousand mosquito bites. It was an exercise in futility and profanity. I was texting Sean throughout and I had to tell the kids, "Don't read my texts to Dad." :) I'm not nearly as innocent or ladylike as I let on...not when I'm frustrated. 
I was yelling, "Die!" at the spider webs. We have snakes. Big, big snakes. My polka dot boots make me feel all safe and invincible. 

I came back inside to a very quiet Titus and Jude. "What are you two doing?" I asked. 
"Oh, whatcha been eatin'?" 
"Did you find the chocolate chips?" 
As chocolate was on the mind, I made these brownies that are all over Pinterest lately. I gotta say...they're not good. They're gooey, but they're just not good. I've had so many other homemade brownie recipes turn out fantastic, that I don't think I'd ever try these again. The only difference is that I used sugar in the raw and it doesn't work well in baking. It's like the granules are too big to dissolve or something. That could be why they're so...blah, but I'm not even willing to try again with a finer sugar. That's saying a lot because I'm quite the hog when it comes to all things chocolate.

I looked at the calendar today and was like-when did the 24th switch to Monday? The bigs took their Orientation classes today. They start Monday!!! 

I wondered who'd been rearranging my pantry. This morning there was a whole bag of panko bread crumbs dumped on the floor.
Jude was also here. 
 His piece de resistance this week has been shimmying up into Felix's bunk and throwing everything out. He chucked all of his stuffed animals and emptied his wallet no less than ten times today.

That's the suitcase they were told to put in their closet Monday. And two clothes baskets full of clothes they were supposed to put away on Tuesday. We're They're having a bit of a problem with procrastination lately. 
 Jude was also here. The game cabinet. Needless to say, I was ready for bedtime. 
He did offer to suck up his play-doh crumbs. 
I finished up a book, The Midwife of Hope River by Patricia Harman, while we ate popcorn for dinner. It is such a good book. I'm not so much sad that the book is over, as I am that I'll miss the characters. As much as I swore the kids were never eating on the couch again, they landed in front of a British version of Lassie, munching popcorn while I read. Win-win for all. 
 In the last 20 minutes of the day, I remembered some blue fabric in my stash. I've had the cowboy curtains for probably...a decade? They're the cutest, vintage curtains ever, but they're too short for any normal window. I added the blue and they're just right. Now their room is completely done. 
Not that Jude wants to sleep in it any more than he did last week. He wasn't even trying to be clever with his stall tactics tonight. Just straight out with it.

"I seep wit you. I seep in Mommy's bed."
"Jude, it's time to go to sleep in your bed."
No! Never! Never!"

He was out in five minutes. In his own daggum bed. 
And now it's my turn. 

1 comment:

mommabear said...

Rain boots and walking around the yard with a hoe make me feel less inferior to snakes, too! When I run up on one, I'm still too chicken to actually use the hoe. So excited about the house for your parents. That is awesome! The curtains look great, I love that fabric. Thanks for the review on the brownies I will not pin the recipe now. Happy first day of school tomorrow!