Rally, Rally, Make it So

I don’t think I can do this.

Most mornings I rise without trouble.  Sometime in the year or so after being thrust from the cocoon of college into real life where waking early every morning whether I felt like it or not, I realized I preferred to also wake reasonably early on days off, else I’d waste that precious time dozing because I’d stayed up to watch Letterman.  Ultimately, the reward of time to truly live the hours I had a choice about trumped the indulgence of sleeping in.  As a result, I morphed into a woman for whom 7:45 is late to be getting out of bed on a weekend, and 8:30 was truly decadent.

That was prekids.  As a mom, I realized I usually have only control over when I go to bed, so I ensure that I’ll get at least a good 6.5-7 hours before waking before the kids to have that alone time.  And I don’t mind it—I like it.  I may not be chirpy, but I’m pretty content padding around the kitchen setting up the coffee maker and checking all the online things one checks while the coffee pot gurgles and hisses its way to caffeinated bliss.

So, what I’m saying is this: I don’t usually wake up wanting to stay in bed.  Saturday, however, I woke before 6:00 and my first thought was, “I don’t think I can do this.” 

This was not just to wake and make a weekend breakfast of bacon and eggs or homemade waffles—and waffles were what I had promise-promise-pinky-swore I’d make because Carter loves them so—but to get us all ready for and away to an adventure we’d been eagerly anticipating for a month: camping.  Yet, there I was, throat burning, the cough Cole had been developing without much complaint over the past week clearly coming into its own in my head and chest, deciding this morning it’d be nice to sleep until at least 7:00 or so.

It’s time to wake up!  Up!  We want to get up and have breakfast!

My littlest friend has other plans, and no amount of me wishing it were not so will change the fact that, one way or another, my butt is getting up.  I slug down 2 ibuprofen while making the coffee and a quick snack to tide Cole over until I’m ready to get out the waffle iron and start beating egg whites for the batter and start to make mental lists of everything we will all need, all the while hearing The Brat who resides in all our heads whine to me about the inherent unfairness of life and other whiny bunk that really has no bearing on anything except that The Brat knows I am sick and more susceptible to believing the whines today than most days.

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In my idealized mental vision of our camping trip, I’d have had everything ready—or at least located—the day before setting out nice and early, us all singing Kumbaya no doubt.

In reality, I was stressed and grumpy.

I will be calm and happy when we’re there.  I have to slog through some edgy places to get there, though.

I told that to myself and anyone who’d listen all morning.

I hate being disorganized and not having ready the things I need in spite of my apparent lack of ability to do otherwise at this point!

I told my husband that a few times over the morning.  He helped me with fetching items from high places, ticked me off by insisting I pack that ‘godawful’ (my description) instant coffee—how dare he mess up my tenuous grasp on how I’d get us all to our goal!!—and surely bit his tongue many times as I made those dang waffles and played Tetris with our belongings to arrange them just so they’d all fit.  Oh, I was a peach that morning.  It’s incredible anyone wanted to go anyplace with me.

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All that being said, we got ourselves out, and I was right:  once we were there, we were all happy.  Sometimes you have to RALLY.

To be continued…

Homecoming Surprise

When Bunny was in preschool, because she wanted it, I painted her wall something not far from Pepto Bismol pink.  I knew it was not a color she’d always love, but she loved it “so hard” at that point in her life there was really no other option that made sense.  Why insist on a color she doesn’t want to be practical?  Yawn.  Practicality is overrated when it comes to some things, and many of those things involve little girls, I have learned.

And so, one day when Carter was a few weeks old, and I was able to bend and stretch, and not randomly bump things with my belly, I painted her wall.  During a day’s worth of naps I worked whenever I could, and the pink was almost as bold as Bunny.  She loved it.

Time moved on, and Bunny outgrew PINK.  Her Barbies are nearly a thing of the past: she has saved only a couple of special ones, preferring to play with Kit, her American Girl doll, or her Breyer horses.  For over a year, her favorite color has been aqua.  I need a new color, Mama.  I hate this pink!  This became her frequent plea.

Last spring I was at the hardware store and just happened to glance at a rack of mistake paints out by the front door and saw just the color, sitting there.  A pint—enough to do that one accent wall—for $3 or so.  Without hesitation I added that to the basket.

For months I hoped free time to paint would materialize.  Of course it didn’t, because that’s just life with 3 kids!  The pink endured.

This week Bunny is at girl scout camp (horses!) and I decided all of a sudden this morning it was time to make that little can of paint stop mocking me every time I needed something from the garage shelf where touch up paint, etc lives.  Both boys were home, but hey, that is one kid less than normal, and every parent of more than one knows how easy just one less than what you currently have feels and only 1 child feels like a vacation.  (Oh, perspective!)

So, over the morning pink became blue.

This became that.

 

And it was good.

I hope my little equestrian is happy upon her return in a couple of days!

Happy Happy

I know it may seem like a small thing—and, it is—but I am so relieved my camera’s come back to me, cured of its focusing issues.  (Seems the theory that it took a knock whilst tethered to Carter’s wrist in a well intentioned attempt to protect it as I wrestled my backpack from a wobbly locker at the Egypt museum is a correct one.  Something called the focuser was all out of whack and my poor camera had no point of reference, try as it might to focus.  It was set back to zero and now that zero is a hero *snaps*.)

Our amazing January faux Spring continues and the boys and I played at the park after preschool today.

I am grateful Bunny loaned her camera to me, but I am THRILLED I have mine back.  I know a lot of whether a photo is great or junk depends on the photographer, but lens quality and ability to zoom really do help a lot.  :)

So, of course, I had to check the old girl out and see if she was really fixed.

That’ll do, camera.  (Babe, anyone?)

Taking Care of Un-Business

There are those who religiously have manicures and pedicures... who never go too long before a hair trim... who, um... bathe daily, even after children. I'm not sure where they are, or who they are, but there must be these types!

Then there's me. I never seem to be able to put many chits on the 'me' column in this life with Littles. My husband adores our children, but he is just not an eager hand pitching in--at least in volunteering to pitch in. For some reason (he would call this reason ADHD; I call it Y Chromosomitis) if I say, "I need a shower," he seems to truly believe I am taking a poll and asking if he also needs one--WHICH HE THEN TAKES while I am left feeling funky in more than one way. It's not just him; I become pooky about always having to ask, ask, ask, so I instead choose to forgo a lot, then reward everyone with a sulky, crappy 'tude. (I don't even enjoy being near me then!) It's a stupid passive-aggro thing, or something, I am sure.

ANYway, a couple of weeks ago my daughter and I went out for 'girl time' and she suggested we get our nails done. It was a good call, and we enjoyed our time side by side in the massage chairs being pampered a little.

The one downside to having such nicely groomed footies in the winter is they barely see the light of day or night! So, last week when the sun finally peeked out for more than 5 minutes, I blinked hard a few times and decided these tootsies needed to get some fresh air.

My heels sank in the lawn. It was utterly impractical. Then again, exactly what about a pedicure is practical?

What a mess!

I don’t have many drawers in my kitchen. In fact, I have 4. Feel free to pity me and my utter lack of storage space, as I also have very few cabinets. It’s forced me to put pantry items in a built in cabinet that was made for china, and to store some bulk foods in the garage. Boo.

As a result, my junk drawer is also my utensil drawer. Some say there is no need for a junk drawer in an orderly house. Well, this ain’t no orderly house, hahahaaaaaaooooo (laugh dissolving into moan).

But once in a blue moon, I do have to tackle and sort out the stuff that really does have a better keeping place. And yesterday the moon looked a bit bluish to me. :)

The craziest part about this is I knew what was in there, and could put my hands on it very quickly. Really!

The first thing I did was empty the drawer and wipe all the crumbs out – the ones that could FIT. ;) I sorted the detritus and have to say it’s pretty amazing what all was lurking around the edges! Then I chucked out the things, like that freaking Kidz Bop CD, that I would never miss. The picture hanging items were put away in the garage. Duplicates of weirdness, like baby ‘snot suckers’ were discarded, as one is generally more than enough (no clue why I had a second… probably came with something I did need). A lot of this does ‘belong’ in the catchall area, though, so I decided to contain it better.

Arguably some of these items would be ‘theoretically’ better in the garage or where ever, but I really like to have the little flower snippers handy for when I am trimming cut flowers, which I do at the counter. And so forth… It’s still a very full drawer, but when you have FOUR, space is at a premium. :)

Showing...

2008-04-11 026, originally uploaded by Kristianna.

...the piece Bunny didn't think I should try. And this is why I really don't think 6 yr olds make the best advisers. But they are WAY better than 2 yr olds. ;)

Gretchen dropped this off while I was at the beach today, and I am very pleased. It makes me want to paint my kitchen to coordinate, seriously.

Success!

Managed to take three kids to Target today *and* get all three back home. Whoopteedoo! Bunny helped a lot keeping Mr. You Mean I Get to Walk? around without putting too many random items into the cart. He did seem to think we needed a ginormous thing of Tide and many air fresheners (Yummy! was his reason). Otherwise, it was only minorly headache inducing. I forgot my list, so I forgot to get a few things on the list, but I did remember the various kinds of diaper supplies which we needed ASAP, so the other things can wait. Cole slept the whole time, which was a major help, too. Me? I'm exhausted! Need to rest up so I can make dinner... I'm wishing I'd told Heidi to go ahead and bring a meal tonight even though we do have the salmon to cook (this fish needs to be eaten today, seeing as I got it Sunday--we've been so blessed with meals from others that I have not had the chance to cook it yet). It's okay; I'll be happy to have the healthy meal once I am done actually making it (planning salmon, sauteed zucchini, salad).

Oh! And I finally took down the Christmas tree today. So now I just have to get Paul to chop it up so it'll fit in the green waste container and I can say we've avoided being the craziest people on the block. Though with my weird neighbors, that would be a hard feat to accomplish. Seeing as they still have some Halloween decorations up! ;)