Friday, June 30, 2006
It is no secret that I am not a morning person. I can PRETEND to be pleasant if I have to. In fact, if I need to be somewhere early many people have commented that I don't seem too out of sorts (as they inspect me closely, perhaps expecting me to bite or something). Of course not! I am not going to be rude to strangers, for goodness sake. Friends and family, maybe. Plus I am much more amenable when I have to be awake, rather than awakened for no good reason. Such as my DH waking me at 5:00am to ask why it is so light out. Or to tell me we are out of bread. Yeah, wake me early to tell me we need groceries, that will go over well. This morning, DD woke up at 7:00 am. No matter how late she goes to bed, she seems to get up between 7:00 and 7:30. She has strict instructions NOT to enter my room until "eight oh oh" under pain of beatings. She wakes early, but she is GRUM-PEE! DH claims to be an early riser, and he may have been 20 years ago. But for the last ten, he sleeps the latest in the house on the week-ends and when he works the afternoon shift. Yes, he gets up earlier when he is on day shift, but he goes to bed earlier as well. I have yet to see him stay up to 2:00am doing laundry or making lunches. But I digress. I would so much rather that she wake HIM when she gets up early. But no, she wakes Mommy every single time. Not gently, either. No gentle pat on the shoulder, soft calling of names. Nope. She pries my eyelids open with sticky fingers and shouts "I want french toast!" into my eyeballs. If that does not work, she starts to bother the dog. Once Ruby gets up, I HAVE to get up or suffer a volley of tongues up the nose, hair pulling, face snotting, and worse. If she jumps off the bed before me, it guarantees she will poop on the floor. Picking up poop is not a pleasant task at any time, but first thing in the morning is the WORST. Poking at the dog guarantees mom gets out of bed. It also guarantees that I will not be in the best of moods for most of the day. This is how I started my day today. And yes, I made french toast, and no she did not want to eat it. "Not that kind of french toast. The kind that is flat, and round". Oh, you mean pancakes? Some days I can get sucked into this and tricked into making as many as four breakfasts before I catch on. She isn't hungry, she is tired but awake and lonely. Cooking keeps me in the kitchen and off the computer and away from WORK. This morning her little tricks did not work. "Eat the french toast you asked for, or get nothing until lunch". She grudgingly ate two or three pieces and has been sulking ever since. Daddy just put SpongeBob on for her, so she should be quiet and happy for at least five minutes. It doesn't help my mood that the cats kept me up all night using my body as a jungle gym. One walked up and down my prone body like it was a log bridge over and over again, and the other kept thumping me in the face with her paw to wake me up so I could pet her. I have bruises on my arm today, where she was "massaging" it last night. The neighbours were out late talking and laughing and whatnot, which always freaks the cats out and make them bother me all night. Storms do the same thing. And the yahoo next door started up his motorcycle and revved it for an hour again this morning, which is what woke DD for sure. That revving sound scares her because she thinks it's thunder. I don't care that the man has a motorcycle, if he would just start it and drive away. But no, he starts it and revs it for an hour, polishes the chrome, then pushes it back into the garage. When the weather is nice this is done once daily, usually early in the morning. When the weather is really nice, we get twice daily shows. Once early in the morning then again around dinner time. In the winter we are spared, but then the autostart on the truck comes into play, and I get to hear his truck revving rythmically for an hour instead. Lord forbid he drive it cold. Is it possible to hate a vehicle? So today DH and DD will eventually wander off the MIL's to mow her lawn and trim her trees and bushes and various other yard duties. Never mind I have to pay somebody to do those things in my own yard, but that is a fight for another day as long as it gets these two out of my hair and the tv off for a couple of hours today. Boy, am I grouchy. Want to come over for a visit? Tee hee!
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Ah, I love Simon and Garfunkle. Too bad they just can't get along ROFL. Today is DD's first day off school. Next week she gets shipped off each day to Day Camp (a special cooking one that I think she will love love love), but the rest of this week is 'unplanned'. Thank goodness DH came home early, because she was driving me up a wall! As if it isn't bad enough to have children's programming blasting in the background, she fancies herself a true musician and has her "instruments" set up everywhere. A tin bucket (played with wooden spoons), a plastic flute, a tambourine, a carboard box (also played with wooden spoons) and a toy piano. That and the false operatic singing is enough to drive a person insane. And of course, the din is intersperced with 30 second intervals of "I'm bored! I have nothing to do! Come play with me! Let's go wash the car!". The child has a car washing fetish. Never mind the cars look dirtier when she is done than when she started, she can drag a good car washing out for three hours. In which time everything within reach of the hose gets soaped and soaked. Dogs, people, and plants included. But today I just can't sit outside, I am running too much in the background to risk a connection that far. One dropped packet and I am toast. Some of us gotta work, ya know! DH has to ferry MIL around today to do errands, and I managed to convince the child to go with. Ah. Blessed silence! Nothing but bird tweets and dog snores. Heaven. I heard my stomach rumble a few minutes ago, and marveled that the house was THAT quiet. Bliss, I tell you! I don't mind noise ALL the time. You could run a jackhammer behind me and I wouldn't care much. But please don't make a whole bunch of noise and try to talk to me at the same time. Trust me, when I tune things out they are TUNED OUT. You have to practically smack me on the head so I know you expect me to pay attention. And they do (or tap my arm, which makes me snarl) and it ticks me off. Turn off your damn tv show, turn down the radio, and stop banging and THEN talk to me. DD gets mad at me because she asks me things and I ignore her. But I have no way to tell that she has switched from "making her barbies talk to each other" mode to "ask mommy a million questions" mode. Once my tuner is turned, forget it. My favourite, is DH will interrupt me and say "Are you working?". Implying that if I am working never mind, but if I am just playing on the internet then he needs my attention. "Look, you've already interrupted so just tell me what you want". Boy, can I be pleasant *big wide grin*. This morning he woke me up at 6:00am to ask if I remembered to make his lunch. A safer option would have been to check the fridge himself, in which case he would not have the alarm-clock shaped dent in his head from me whipping it at him. And if I hadn't remembered, he would do well to remember himself that waking me at that hour to ask me to make him one is also a poor choice. Then going on to make so much noise that the child is awoken and does not go back to sleep is bad bad bad. She was up until 10 as a special treat, waking her at 6 am does not bode well for a child that NEEDS 12 hours sleep to be civil. So as a punishment today since he does not have to work, he gets to cart her around with him. And she just LOVES running errands - bwa ha ha haaaa! Bring that kid to the post office, and you would think she was being physically tortured. She is immediately hungry, thristy, has to pee, has to poop, her feet hurt from standing, and are we almost FINISHED yet? DH has to go to the post office, the bank, the lawyers, and the hair dresser. Is it wrong that I am giggling right now? Hard? We have booked our pedicures for next week-end. Well, I am getting a pedicure. She is just getting polish on fingers and toes. No way is she going to let somebody massage her leg or anything LOL. The girl was really nice, and took all of DD's information just like she was an adult client. I have been quite proud lately, how well DD has been behaving some places. She has always been pretty good, if impatient and high maintenance. But she answers questions politely and clearly. She doesn't run around or touch things she shouldn't. My little lady she is. She seemed concerned about colours so they showed her the rack of polish she could choose from when she came. Her little eyes lit right up, to see all those bright colours. There was one row of odd colours like black, blue, green. She looked shyly at me and asked if she could pick ANY colour (I know she is eying the black for her fingers LOL). And I said ANY colour you want. Then they said she could have sparkles and jewels too if she wanted. There is something about sparkles that just make females happy. Unless we have to clean them up, in which case they are evil incarnate. I want to do the pedicure first so we can feel the place out, but their rates for massage are very good and you have a choice of an RMT or a masseuse. With my back injury and nerve damage I prefer an RMT. But from what I saw, it seems clean and professional and discrete. I don't like the idea of sitting in a window with my feet all hanging out, like at some places. Too open. Sure, I walk around bare foot. But this is somebody TOUCHING my feet. It just seems wrong to do that sitting out in the open (oh come on, we already knew I had issues). The worst part so far, is I have to buy myself some flip-flops, as they insist on them for pedicures. DD is set. But not only do I not own flip flops, it is impossible for me to walk in them. I can't really feel my feet (unless they are touched or stepped on, in which case I feel it loud and clear), and I have trouble keeping flip flops or slip-on on my foot. I feel like I have to arch it or tense it funny, which usually leads to instant foot cramps. But c'est la vie. Who cares if I will look like a spastic rooster with a fear of heights, I'll have beautiful toes, right?
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Today is DD's last day at school. And it is splash day, which means they get to bring their bathing suits and a towel and have water games. Whatever that means LOL. She was very excited. Last night she requested that she have a bath, so I could put her hair in little braids while it was wet. It seems that wavy hair looks good with a bathing suit and towel on splash day, and who am I to argue? She also insisted on wearing her flip flops, even though they hurt her feet and she can't walk in them and they give her blisters. Being the mom I am, I made sure to pack shoes and socks because I know she is NOT going to last in those flip flops. Notice that I did not forbid her from wearing them at all. Being a mom is hard, but no need to make it impossible at 8:00am on the last day of school. Now, just stop for a moment, and ponder those words please. LAST. DAY. OF. SCHOOL. If you are a parent, those few little words for sure must strike fear into your heart. If you are a stay-at-home parent or work from home, it is downright terror. What the freak am I going to do with a six year old all day every day until school starts again? That, ladies and gents, is why they invented DAY CAMP! Yay day camp! Instead of climbing all over me asking for something to eat, for something to watch on tv, for something to DO....I can send her someplace where they run her around until she is ready to drop. Then they play some more. She comes home famished, tired, and ready to go to bed early. Sigh. I love day camp. Of course, she isn't signed up yet. DH has two weeks off starting next week and has taken it upon himself to extricate her from her day camp committments to "be with him". I am not happy, my friends. For this usually translates to him sleeping late when our daughter wakes at the crack of dawn, then sitting in front of the tv while she begs and pleads and cajoles him to DO SOMETHING with her. And he promises all these activities, not realizing that unless they are on their way out the door it is probably best not to even mention them. Being asked every two minutes "are we going golfing now? Is it time to go play golf? Can we go golfing now?" is annoying for him and painful for me to listen to all day long. And we all know he has no real intention of doing any of those things, and it causes tantrums when she finally gets the news. I can only hope that he realizes very early on in those weeks that day camp is a GOOD thing for her, even if it is not free, and hope beyond hope they still have a place for her there. I have promised to check into a "baking" camp for her as well. She loves to mix things and bake things and is starting to find an interest in cooking in general, even things she does not like to eat herself. No interest at all in art camp, dance camp, or sports camp. So baking will have to do. It is expensive, so she gets one week. Maybe two if I can separate them out. But what is a few bucks in the face of a lifetime of memories. Right? As for the missing camera, it has been found. It ended up at my parent's house, and I haven't been able to get out there to retrieve it yet. But once I do, look out! Picture-rama! Have a good splash day!
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Talking to the porcelain goddess, that is. DH, the man that laughed in the face of the stomach flu, spent much of his morning hours hurling. Quite loudly. So loud in fact, that DD woke up and got scared. I feel horrible for him, honestly I do. And I feel so responsible, after all I had it first, then DD, and now DH. But I warned him! I kept telling him "Stop touching us! Go wash your hands!". He would touch DD's dirtied laundry, and nibble things that I cooked even though we got strict instructions that he was not to do that, or risk getting it. They weren't kidding either. At one point, to prove that he had the steel constitution of Superman, he LICKED his hand. I said "You are going to be very sorry" and he laughed at me. At four o'clock this morning, DH rolled back into bed from a bout of trying to catch what was coming from one end while trying to contain what was coming from the other, and said (weakly) "I am not laughing any more". So now he is on the couch with a tarp under him, moaning and groaning and generally wishing for death or unconsciousness. Did he think I was faking it all? And of course, we had spaghetti and meatballs yesterday. He wasn't supposed to eat it because I made it (and still I scrubbed all over and wore gloves, because I feel like typhoid Mary and would drink bleach if I thought it would make me feel less germy). It would not be pleasant to 'regift' a meal like that, no sirree. We decided to go to a family party over the weekend. I was fine, DD was feeling good. I made a call to a health hotline to ask how dangerous it was for us to go. I didn't want to make other poeple sick. She said as long as we didn't go around kissing and hugging people and didn't prepare or touch anybody else's food then the risk was low. My one niece however, wouldn't leave DD alone. She kept touching DD's face, taking DD's sweater and putting it over her head, and ate food out of DD's plate. I kept freaking out and making her wash her hands. "Stop touching her! Stand back! You don't want to get sick!". My sister called last night, quite angry, because her child was awake throwing up all night. "You shouldn't have come!". Again, I feel horrible, especially that another child got it. But we still don't know where WE got it from, and had been with the same group of people right before. For all we know she got it from the same person. And the fact that she was calling to let us know DD was exposed to the chicken pox at the same party took the punch out of her argument. Don't yell at me because your child is sick, then tell me 'by the way, our kids all broke out with chicken pox today'. DD has had the chicken pox vaccine, but I am not sure if we can expect her to get it (just mildly?) or if she is protected from it. The last time, we got that same "by the way" call regarding certain children and headlice. The joys of parenting, right? Now that I am pretty much convinced that the advice not to prepare food for others that haven't been sick is quite on the money, all of a sudden there is all this cooking to do. And I can't do it! They needed cookies for DD's last day of school tomorrow, and I can't make them. My other sister needs a birthday cake in the shape of a fish, and I can't make it. My parents want to have a BBQ and need side dishes but I don't dare make something to share. Finally some inspiration for more than just the same drab bland every day dinners, and here I am, a pariah that is not to cook for others lest I spread this horrible illness. Seems kind of unfair. We still have not found the camera. DH remembers taking it out of the camera bag to make room for the 'good camera' when we went out on the week-end. He swears he put it on the desk. No camera there. DD says she never touched it. I have torn apart my desk and turned up nothing. Okay, I turned up a bent bobby pin, a pink measuring tape I thought I had lost in Florida, a few pennies, and a fuzzy mint candy sans wrapper. No camera though. The neon tetra is missing out of the fish tank, perhaps they are together on an adventure. I'll keep you posted.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Whew. That was a long gap from blogging! But I am finally alive and well. Okay, I am alive. The wellness part is always subjective. Two weeks in a row DD and I have gotten the flu. It kicked my butt the first time, and damn near killed me the second. DD is doing well, but you know how kids bounce back. One minute they are lethargic, the next they are bouncing off the walls like nothing happened. She didn't want to go to school today, figuring being home with mommy was a good deal. She got to drink flat ginger ale, and eat pudding or freezies on demand. I was right there to change her channel, fluff her pillow, arrange her stuffed toys and blanket. I don't blame her, that sounds pretty good to me too LOL. But she has a class picnic today, which she has been looking forward to all year. I didn't want her to miss it. A child that is well enough to stay up until 9pm singing and reading and counting out loud (out VERY loud) is well enough to go to school, methinks. I'll be meeting her for the picnic at lunch, and if she looks peaked I will bring her home. I;m not an animal, after all. Speaking of animals, Ruby's ears are doing fine. She had bad ear infections from what we believe was either improper grooming or perhaps even a reaction to an ear wash product used on her. She has a special cleaner, and two kinds of drops that I torture her with every day. She looks so sad and dejected while I am doing them for her LOL. But she tolerates it as she gets two cheerios for being good (two ears, two cheerios). She will suffer through a lot for a cheerio. She likes rice krispees too, but they get stuck on her lip and freak her out when they crackle. Corn flakes, not so much. She spits them out and barks at them. Dogs are fun. Last night as I was making her batch of food for the week I got to thinking how funny it was that lately I have been trying to get out of cooking dinner as often as possible, yet I cook for the dog. Rain or shine, sick or well, I make her food once per week. It's just a matter of running some veggies through the food processor and boiling stuff all together, but I don't do that for my husband and daughter on a reliable basis. Well, maybe I might if they would eat something other than chicken and plain rice, noodles, or mashed potatoes. I am getting frustrated with the whole "trying to figure out what they will eat when they don't eat much of anything and if we have skinless boneless chicken and white rice one more time I will retch" thing. Lump of meat, chunk of starch, creamy sauce or gravy. That is all they ever went to eat, variations on that. Not very inspiring. DH picked up steaks to grill last night, bless his heart. Expensive t-bones, but they were NOT very good. Tough, had weird gristly bits running through them that I have never seen on a t-bone before. Plus he used the new grill (inherited when his dad passed away) and for some ungodly reason cooked them on LOW. Ever eaten a tough, boiled steak with odd gristle running through it? No amount of steak sauce was helping THAT. It's not that great of a grill to begin with, but DH has it in his head that it is some big fancy thing. Our BBQ is much better IMHO. But who in the heck cooks steak on low? Bleah. The baked potatoes were good though. I only had two potatoes, so DH ate one, DD ate the middle out of the other and I had the crispy skin from hers. Yum! I rubbed them with butter, sprinkled with baked potato seasoning, and baked them in the convection oven for 1 hour. Finally, something this oven does right! I could have eaten just a baked potato for dinner, it was that good. But I had to make do with just the peel. I also made myself some creamed spinach. Which almost became a very bad thing, because I followed the recipe on the back of the spinach package. And halfway into adding the ingredients I finally heard that voice screaming in the back of my mind "SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT HERE". One tiny package of spinach, and like seven cups worth of liquid between chicken stock, water, and cream. Wait a minute, that is a recipe for cream of spinach SOUP! Bah! So I did some straining and other creative maneuvers and managed to save it. It still made a lot. A LOT. I had two helpings last night, and a good generous portion this morning as an omelette filling. I will mix some with cooked broccoli, noodles, and slivered almonds to have as a side dish this week, and freeze the rest in portions. I love it, but if I eat the whole batch I will be back in the bathroom for the week. TMI? Well, we all know I love to share. So I guess I better start packing things together for the picnic. I can't find the camera, so no pics to share. I should check in DD's toy room for it, but frankly I am afraid to go in there. DD won't go in the basement, DH won't go into the fruit (root?) cellar. My sister won't go into her garage. We all have places we refuse to go, for whatever reason. The toy room and the shed are mine. The shed is evil, and that is all I will say about it. And the toy room, I believe, is the gateway to another dimension where sparkle paint and crayons mingle freely with kitchen implements and "borrowed" tea towels to make magic potions that stain for life. I am scared.