Frazzled.

Last night, Lucy was having a rough time. She was asleep, but then Caroline woke her up, and she has a hard time going back to sleep. I went in and comforted her, but she wouldn't stop crying when I left, so I got her some more milk.

Then she woke up around midnight, and again, there was no pacifying. I decided to just her cry it out, but Bob proposed letting her sleep with us. Oh boy. As soon as she got in bed with us (and the two cats) (in a double bed), she decided it was time to play and giggle and touch my eyelids and roll around. I was starting to get really annoyed, so Bob proposed that he go sleep on the couch. I didn't really see how that would fix anything except for Bob, so I nixed that.

Ultimately, Bob put her down in a different room, but with another cup of milk. She finally fell asleep.

Then Caroline fell out of bed and woke up wailing. I went in and held her for a bit, consoled her, and then tucked her back in.

Then Will woke up a time or two. I shouldn't complain because he sleeps through the night EVERY night, but still, I could have used a quiet night from him.

This morning, the girls dumped a huge load of blocks all over the house, I'm waiting to hear back from my doctor's office on whether or not they need to see me (I think I have an infection), or if they can just call in a prescription, I have an upholsterer coming to give me quotes on redoing a chair and couch (and, while we're at it, maybe the dining room chairs, and some cushions for the window seat?), and I really should shower. But if I'm in the shower, will I miss the call back from the doctor? I think it's worth the risk.

Good grief. May naptime come quickly--

Speaking of naptime, Caroline fell asleep on her sleeping bag during naptime yesterday. And when I say on her sleeping bag, I mean while it was still in its stuff sack. Crazy kid.

Pet Peeves

FYI: I started this post when pregnant with Will. I'd like to be clear with you all that I'm not pregnant.

I hope this post doesn't come across as too negative, but I've noticed lately that I have a lot of pet peeves. I would like to think that this is pregnancy-related and these little things won't bother me after the end of August. We'll see...

Here's the list. It's not comprehensive, which is sad. I guess I have a lot.

• cars not parked straight in our driveway
• not unloading the dish drainer before stacking wet dishes on top of dry
• the word "potty"
• phrases like "go bye-bye," "go night-night," and "go potty"
• being called "Mommy"
  
• people telling my children I have a baby "in my belly." It's not. I've been clear with Caroline that there's a baby in my womb. I know this isn't a big deal, but I'd prefer to be a little more accurate. Someone I know was told (as a child) that the baby comes out of Mommy's bottom, and this person was grossed out for at least a decade until that was straightened out. Nasty, nasty.
• toilet seats left in the upright position
• mayonnaise. Does it have to be a staple of all sandwiches? ... because I can't stand it! (Well, I'm not all that cracked up about sandwiches in general, but with mayo, I won't touch them.)
• people who leave their shopping carts loose in the parking lot
• people who park across lane lines and take up two spots
• packages being opened incorrectly (like upside down, or when a resealable container is damaged, so it's no longer resealable)
• typos (though of course, I create typos, too)
• Craigslist listings that use the word "beautiful" in the heading. Sorry, that's not descriptive enough for me.
  
• Winter.
• Cats that scratch furniture. (Ahem, Katie & Janie.)
  

Perhaps I should loosen up a little?

Update: Um, I guess it's not pregnancy-related. These still annoy me.

Security System

When we were getting ready to close on this house, I called one of the utility companies (I don't remember - gas? electric? phone?) to set up service. I couldn't just transfer service from our old house to our new one because there was a period of about three weeks when we didn't need service. In other words, we had sold and moved out of the old one, but not yet into the new one. We camped out at my mother-in-law's for that period of time, and it was crazy to start heating a house that we didn't own yet. (And weren't totally sure we were going to. It was pretty stressful.)

Anyway, so I called the gas company (my brain works! I remember now!), and they offered, as a free service, to go ahead and get our other utilities set up for us. I remember feeling skeptical, but I agreed. Then they pitched all these other products and services that I didn't want. Like cable. No, I don't want cable. I understand it's cheap, but no, I don't want it. Yes, I understand that a security system discourages crime, but no, I don't want it. No, I do not want to be transferred to a security company to talk about a security system. No, I'm not interested. No, thank you. Okay, yes, they can call me at a later date. No, I need to go. Thank you. Bye.

And then I forgot about it. Until the calls started coming from this security company. I took a couple of the calls, in which I assured them that I was not interested, but I guess they didn't believe me. Then, because we now have caller ID (shh, don't tell!), I just stopped answering the phone. And it was so annoying. They would call a couple times a day for a long time, like maybe a month or so? Good grief.

Ok. Moving on. So, people sometimes speed on our street. (Not me!) And we live between two curves, so policemen can be kind of sneaky and catch people in our stretch of the street. Lately, I've noticed that probably 3-4 days a week, there's a police car that spends a lot of time parked in front of my house. He sits there, then zooms off (I assume, to catch a speeding car), then comes back. I like having him out there, and when I've been baking, I contemplate, should I run out there and offer him a muffin, or some homemade bread, or a cookie? I haven't done it yet, and finally ran the idea by Bob. He voted against it, reasoning that some psychos would probably try to poison a cop by doing something like that, so the guy might think it was fishy. I confess, I'd thought of that, and didn't want to weird him out. Bummer.

But Mr. Policeman, if you're reading this, please know that I appreciate your presence. And I like to think that you counterbalance my choice to not install a security system in my home.

Well, that and my dog. I think she helps, too.

Keepin' it Real

The kids and I made a Home Depot run this morning. I may or may not have gone, unshowered, wearing a Matanzas 5k shirt from 1998.

I spend a good bit of my time feeding children. Specifically, my baby. So when I saw this drawing (by Caroline), I thought it was of me. In other words, I thought the head was a bit above the torso. Bob thinks that the big circle is a head, and the smaller ones, eyes. Oops.

I still think I should ask Caroline.

In other news, it's 9:41pm, I've fed him a million times already today, so go to sleep already, Will. I mean, come on. You could not possibly be hungry. Please don't be hungry.

Please!

Update: (10:23pm) He was hungry. Of course.

How to Make Your Child Poop.

Tell her it's time for bed.

I guarantee that she will immediately announce that she needs to go to the bathroom.

Luxury

You know you are a parent of young children when your idea of luxury includes:

a hot bath or shower every day
a trip to the grocery store by yourself
being awakened by an alarm clock, rather than a child
eating dinner late at night, so as to have a quiet meal with just your spouse
doing laundry and putting it away with no interruptions

I could go on, but the more I think of, the more pathetic it all sounds.

Let's just say that today, I'm suffering from the memory from my life as it used to be:

I used to run errands when I wanted to!
I used to go to work everyday.
When I wanted to go out with my husband, I didn't have to find a babysitter first.
Etc.

To clarify, I'm very satisfied (happy, even!) with my life. But there are days when being a "homemaker" or "stay-at-home mom" seems like a thankless, endless job.

Kitchen Progress

I'm not sure it's fair to call this "progress." It seems misleading.

Bob was out of town today, at a meeting in Chicago. He left early, and he'll get home late. So I took the opportunity to start destroying (I mean improving!) our kitchen.

Here's my arsenal.


We have this horrible (HORRIBLE) fake tile that is glued & nailed to the wall, and it goes up six feet from the floor. Have I mentioned that it's horrible?

Well, it's gone. And now I have to repair the damage.

This is mid-way through. You can see 1) the glue I still needed to scrape off. 2) The fake tile on the right. 3) The real tile backsplash and countertop that I despise. I hate the stuff. Hate it. 4) The peach-painted fake-stucco that was applied to mask the poorly installed drywall that doesn't quite sit flush with the drywall it's next to. They applied this stucco to much of the room. It scrapes easily off of drywall, but not so easily off plaster.


Here's how it looks now. I've scraped all the fake stucco that I can get off, and the next step, Bob tells me (when I confessed over the phone what I've been up to today) is to use a drywall screen on the rest of it.


Now, the challenge will be to follow through and finish the project. I like the big-results tasks, like pulling something down. The scraping, patching, priming, etc., are not so fun for me.

Do you think Bob will just swoop in and finish it for me? Probably not.