I had a day off work Wednesday, because one of the kiddos was home sick with a fever. It was one of those pesky fevers that would subside with Tylenol, but spike back up when it wore off. Despite feeling crummy, he was a trooper and put up with me pushing fluids on him all day long. We all have our vices. I happen to be a hydration freak. Bless his heart.
So, on my day "off," one might think I lounged on the sofa with the boy, watching movies and interesting shows on The Food Network, on say... ice cream. (Which we did, and now I'm craving ice cream.) Nope. Instead, I waged a full-force attack on the laundry piles haunting my sons' rooms. Then I marched boldly into the 9-year-olds' room, took a deep breath and opened the closet. To say this small space was a disaster is an insult to disasters everywhere. Catastrophic would be more the word. Clearly, they had about three times as many clothes in there than they wear on a daily basis. Where these clothes came from, I have no idea. It's like they were breeding in there. T-shirts, sweatpants, shorts,... ugh. Half of the stuff was partially stacked, the other half gasping for a last breath on the floor. The pregnancy "nesting" phase has kicked in, so I went to work. Picture the Looney Toons Tasmanian Devil cleaning a closet. In about an hour, I had most everything done, with separate piles on the floor for donating, eBay and passing down to their litlte brother. When all was said and done, I stepped back and texted my husband: "You won't BELIEVE how the boys' closet looks now!" I'm sure he'll agree it looks a ton better, but probably had to be there to fully experience the satisfaction and emotion I felt. How sad that a cleaning a closet fills me with such glee.
I did manage to sit down every now and then to rest, and give my legs a break. Just the day before, I discovered to my shock and dismay... varicose veins. In the past two pregnancies, I hadn't experienced even the slightest problem with them. Now, on the fast train to 40, apparently it's time. Waking up one morning and noticing a "bruise" on the back of my leg that looks like someone took to it with a lead pipe was a bit horrifying. The aching pain that has accompanied them is irritating at best. So, I brought basket after basket of laundry to fold and keep Jack company in the family room. We chatted. We watched a Harry Potter movie, and he was so inspired to pick up the last book in the series and begin reading. It was a dreary, rainy day ... and while I know I had a list of assignments to jump on at work ... I'd have rather been nowhere else.
So, yes -- my day "off" managed to morph into a day where I work myself silly at home. So much so, that at 8pm, after getting dinner around and cleaning the kitchen, I cozied up on the sofa with all the boys and found an interesting program on the science channel to watch. Whether it was a result of the day, or the fact that I wasn't charmed by the "rod phenomenon" (study of mysterious "rod shaped" objects caught on photo and tape for decades) I promptly fell asleep, waking at 9pm to get the boys off to their own beds. By that time, they had become enthralled with "Survivorman," and the fact that he fashioned the flame-blower from a hot air balloon into a defense weapon against predators on African plain. (Namely, lions.)
Now THAT'S a good day's work, as well!
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Time Flies...
Where in the world has the time gone? My intentions of posting since the last one Oct. 1 have been there ... just kept getting sidetracked, distracted, etc. Go figure.
The two 9-year-olds started hockey recently, adding a practice to their weekly hockey time commitment. Another new element: early morning games. As in 7:45am on Saturday games. As in get-out-of-bed-and-be-in-the-moving-car-by-7am-to-be-at-the-rink-by-7:15-and-getting-dressed games. Good times. As we backed out of the driveway this past Saturday, one of the boys observed, "Hey, it's still dark out." My response? "Well, Sweetheart, get used to it, because you're doing this until the end of February, you know." Apparently my maternal sweetness doesn't kick in until 8am or until I've had my first full cup of coffee -- neither of which had happened at that point. At least I called him "Sweetheart."
In baby news, the little man (a.k.a., "Little Bubby" as his big brothers refer to him) has begun moving and kicking. The outward kicks are still barely detectable, but the shots to my tiny bladder are quite strong. More good times. I realized the other day that I will be 18 weeks along as of this Thursday. Wow. Another case of time passing quickly without really realizing it. Granted, not enough time has passed to completely forget the 6-8 weeks of nausea this little guy gave me... Still, though, it's strange to realize I'm almost halfway through this pregnancy. I met a friend at Starbuck's this past weekend, and as we chatted I noticed a couple come in with their small kids. The father was holding a baby boy, and suddenly it hit me. Oh, my... that's going to be ME in under six months! I just got used to being pregnant -- it somehow escaped my notice that the baby will actually come out at some point.
On a seasonal note, the boys and I hauled out the Halloween decorations the other night. There wasn't a lot in the two orange/black totes (conveniently color-coded for those of us who are organizationally challenged), but enough to give a little spooky spirit to the house. Sam (6) totally captured my heart that night. After dinner, I saw him lacing up his tennis shoes. "Where are you going?" I asked. He looked at me with those huge hazel eyes and looooooooong eyelashes and said very matter-of-factly, "Outside to decorate!" I had to remind him that decorating for Halloween wasn't like when we decorate for Christmas... when anything that doesn't run away from us gets either lights, a bow or a wreath attached to it. He looked a little disappointed for, maybe, five seconds; then he snapped the lid off a tote and began pulling out pumpkins and such. His big find was a headband with antennae topped off with little bats. He thought this was hilarious. So much so, he tried to get the dog to wear it yesterday. FYI, dogs don't necessarily enjoy wearing bat antennae headbands.
Today, we may (depending on the weather, now that fall seems to have returned) head out to an Amish farm to see what we can get -- corn stalks, Indian corn, gourds, mums, etc. I need/want to replace the dead mums on the front porch with something a bit more ... well, live. My first two attempts at owning mums failed because I neglected to water them. It wasn't blatant neglect; I just kept forgetting. I have promised myself that new mums will be dutifully watered and cared for. I know, I know... good luck with that. At least the group of six pumpkins sitting in the corner of the porch are still looking very much alive. I like a no-maintenance decoration.
The two 9-year-olds started hockey recently, adding a practice to their weekly hockey time commitment. Another new element: early morning games. As in 7:45am on Saturday games. As in get-out-of-bed-and-be-in-the-moving-car-by-7am-to-be-at-the-rink-by-7:15-and-getting-dressed games. Good times. As we backed out of the driveway this past Saturday, one of the boys observed, "Hey, it's still dark out." My response? "Well, Sweetheart, get used to it, because you're doing this until the end of February, you know." Apparently my maternal sweetness doesn't kick in until 8am or until I've had my first full cup of coffee -- neither of which had happened at that point. At least I called him "Sweetheart."
In baby news, the little man (a.k.a., "Little Bubby" as his big brothers refer to him) has begun moving and kicking. The outward kicks are still barely detectable, but the shots to my tiny bladder are quite strong. More good times. I realized the other day that I will be 18 weeks along as of this Thursday. Wow. Another case of time passing quickly without really realizing it. Granted, not enough time has passed to completely forget the 6-8 weeks of nausea this little guy gave me... Still, though, it's strange to realize I'm almost halfway through this pregnancy. I met a friend at Starbuck's this past weekend, and as we chatted I noticed a couple come in with their small kids. The father was holding a baby boy, and suddenly it hit me. Oh, my... that's going to be ME in under six months! I just got used to being pregnant -- it somehow escaped my notice that the baby will actually come out at some point.
On a seasonal note, the boys and I hauled out the Halloween decorations the other night. There wasn't a lot in the two orange/black totes (conveniently color-coded for those of us who are organizationally challenged), but enough to give a little spooky spirit to the house. Sam (6) totally captured my heart that night. After dinner, I saw him lacing up his tennis shoes. "Where are you going?" I asked. He looked at me with those huge hazel eyes and looooooooong eyelashes and said very matter-of-factly, "Outside to decorate!" I had to remind him that decorating for Halloween wasn't like when we decorate for Christmas... when anything that doesn't run away from us gets either lights, a bow or a wreath attached to it. He looked a little disappointed for, maybe, five seconds; then he snapped the lid off a tote and began pulling out pumpkins and such. His big find was a headband with antennae topped off with little bats. He thought this was hilarious. So much so, he tried to get the dog to wear it yesterday. FYI, dogs don't necessarily enjoy wearing bat antennae headbands.
Today, we may (depending on the weather, now that fall seems to have returned) head out to an Amish farm to see what we can get -- corn stalks, Indian corn, gourds, mums, etc. I need/want to replace the dead mums on the front porch with something a bit more ... well, live. My first two attempts at owning mums failed because I neglected to water them. It wasn't blatant neglect; I just kept forgetting. I have promised myself that new mums will be dutifully watered and cared for. I know, I know... good luck with that. At least the group of six pumpkins sitting in the corner of the porch are still looking very much alive. I like a no-maintenance decoration.
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