Thursday, February 26, 2009

I can't get out the door

I am constantly late to everything. I can't seem to get out of my house without an unraveling of my household right as I am preparing to leave. Today I needed to take Iain to Grandma Becky's house since he is infected with the bubonic plague and could not attend music class with Fiona and I. Thursday is a screwed up schedule day so not only do we all get thrown around with the meal schedule, the children can't seem to nap at the appropriate time since Jake leaves the house at a different hour and comes home for a "lunch" break at 4pm.

4:05 On the phone with my sister, Jake is calling on the other line, "I'm on my way home!" I put the atomic chili on the stove to heat up for dinner
4:13 Jake walks through the door. "Sarah, I have to go, Jake is home", Sarah, "Oh look out, your husband is home, you are gonna get in trouble for being on the phone!" GoodBYE! I am not in trouble by Jake, I am in trouble with the time, because I should have been doing my work out video before Jake got home for dinner, but now, I will not get my frou frou work out done because I have to get the food on the table and start getting ready to go to Becky's and then to music class, and I should have started the workout video about 2 hours ago but the kids won't take a nap...

Fiona keeps chatting, and each time I walk into their room, Iain is making a surface dive onto his bed because he can "Hear Mama coming" down the hallway. I have already become that scary noise down the hallway, and my little 2 year old already knows that he is supposed to be in bed, but since he isn't, and he can hear me, he has got to RUN and dive onto his bed. Is that part of the fun of it? So first time down the hall, some whining from Fiona, Iain diving back into bed. He knows what he should be doing...SLEEPING!

This time, I do not hear any running. Instead, as I get closer, I hear Fiona squealing with delight at something. She is "ooooing" and giggling. I kick the door open, to find Iain hanging on the side of her bed...stuck...he can't get down. He has thrown his two blankets into her bed, and was evidently trying to climb into her crib so that they could play together. I can hardly keep the smile coming up on my face as I see the love and companionship that both of them know so well. She must have been calling for him to come over and be her friend, because the look on Iain's face says, "I just want to hang out with my sister, but I got stuck." I retrieve him from his predicament, pull out the blankets and find a stack of books underneath of the blankets. Fiona's crib is filled with books and miscellaneous toys. She thinks it is a hoot, but I have to turn on my stern look and voice to tell Iain that he can not continue to throw books in on his sister while she is in her bed, even if she asks for books to be thrown in on her.

I tie down the hatch and attempt to get to some computer work. The dogs need to go out. OK let the dogs out. There are several more trips down to the nursery. One time Iain has his pulled the curtain off of the wall and is looking out at the rain and talking about Uncle Josh's car that is parked on the street. Back out to start unpacking the dishwasher, and I hear more shenanigans from the back of the house. When I open the door this time, he has pulled out all of the drawers in Fiona's dresser, and is standing in the bottom to reach the tip top drawer along the side that has all kinds of special mementos that people have given as gifts. Cutesy little things that little boys would ruin and that is why we have them in a "top drawer" that can't be reached. However, the little engineer has figured that he can get to taller things if he stands in the dresser drawers. When I discover him, he freezes because he can't get out by himself.

This really has to get under control because Husband is going to be home for dinner soon. Yes, it is 4:13 again, Jake is walking through the door. I dish up the chili that isn't hot enough. He pulls out a piece of cheese that won't melt, and I hear the babies again. I figure the nap is a lost cause and the babes should come out and see Jake and eat with us. I change a Fiona diaper as she is screaming bloody murder. The phone rings. I take a rather lengthy call about a little freelance job to inspect a movie theater on Saturday for some extra cash. Sure I can do that. I am getting all of the specs and trying to get some food made. The next thing I know, Jake is kissing me goodbye and it is time for us to load up. I should pound down my soup, since it was hot, but is now in the cooling down process. Why do I even bother heating anything up?

Time to get shoes and socks on Iain's feet. Fiona, come with me. Let's get your shoes on. Wait! You had to smear a blackberry on your lt pink pants? Great. Time to change your pants. What is that smell? OK another dirty Fiona diaper, and let's change it again! Ouchie, the very horrible diaper rash, I know sweetie. If you would just stop popping, I would stop wiping your raw ass, OK? I don't want to have to do this, but every time you crap, I wipe. Either get it all out at once, or we are going to keep doing this! Iain!!! What are you getting into? I can hear you out there. OH Fiona!! Stop screaming! and stop squirming or else you are going to get crap all over your...yep. OK I hope you are happy because now we are changing your shirt too. Go ahead keep screaming, it makes me feel great too!

**Phone rings** "Honey, I need you to look up a bead job in your log book from December." OK. "Well, there is an inventory discrepancy on a bead clasp, and it was for Valley West, and it was a magnetic clasp..." Honey, are you serious. This is a really bad time. "Well, I know it was right around Christmas." OK. Searching through the bead log....

Iain, what have you been doing? Come on, the cooler is not a step ladder, but OK. And the sink is not a place for you to play in at this moment. We are running late already! I started 30 minutes before we had to leave. Come on get your sweater on, we are going to Nani's! Sweater, where's your hat? Hat. Check. OK Let the dogs out. Come on boys! Let's go potty! I am going to load you in the car Fiona while the doggies peepee. Iain! Stay out of the sink! Why do you keep dragging this cooler! Stop! Fiona you are loaded. Run back in the house, let the dogs in. Iain is ringing the doorbell so the dogs are going nuts. Barking. Caesar, time to kennel! Oh thank you! You are such a good dog! Brutus get back in the house! Why is the new dog, the only thing obeying?!! Oh crap! I need to put all of the food away! Put away ham, cheese, throw the bread in the bag. Put the milk away....

Grab my bag, my phone. Shut off the lights. Load up Iain. Brutus! What are you doing in the garage! Get in the house! You bad dog! Come on Iain, let's hurry! We are going to be late! Crap! Did I grab something to put over my horrible hair? Keys. Got it.

No! We are listening to Mommy's music!

Looking back, I guess I did do OK since in one hour I:
  • Fed four people
  • Changed 2 crappy Fiona diapers and 1 Iain diaper
  • Changed Fiona's clothes
  • Dressed Iain with shoes and socks, sweater and hat
  • Took a phone call for a freelance job
  • Helped with an inventory discrepancy
  • Let out the dogs
  • Locked up one dog
  • Put away all of the food
  • Loaded two kids in car seats
If I ever sense my sister or one of my sister-in-laws thinking that I have the easy life out of all of us, with loads of time on my hands, not knowing what to do with myself, eating bon bons, knitting, watching movies all day long, preparing intricate meals, and wondering why I am so fat...gosh she has all of that time during the day to be working out...I just might bitch slap any one of them. I love you guys! But seriously, today I wanted your 8-5 with customers screaming at me, getting up to take a shower by myself making myself look beautiful in a nice black sweater that doesn't have a bird poop barf stain on the shoulder or a wad of Rice Krispy bar stuck to my ass. Today I wanted a fun stylish Coach bag (you know who you are sisters) that only carries things for me instead of two sizes of diapers, a bag of wipes, snacks, cars, rattles, bibs in a huge bag that I carry in one trip out the door.

Someday, I hope to be that stylish Mommy with the organized bag carrying everyone's things (but no diapers please!). I will have brushed on a coat of mascara, maybe a swipe of lip gloss. With a rainy day like today, I will just tie my cute belt around my very trendy trench coat, and everyone will put on their own shoes and coats. We will all arrive 5 minutes early and have time to visit with the music instructor. I will have fresh jeans and a cute black sweater free of grime that matches my adorable and also stylish flats adorned with...oh...maybe a shiny buckle or something. I promise not to judge the Mommy that comes in late, with sneakers, athletic pants, months worth of leg hair, baggy sweatshirt and her hair covered in a bandanna. I will know the kind of day she must have had.

Monday, February 23, 2009

The Stinkin' Dog!

I can barely breathe right now. This new dog, CAESAR, stinks!! He keeps farting! I am not exaggerating. The dog farts about every 15 seconds to 1 minute. I haven't timed him, but I will start right now, since he just farted again.

I can't breathe...again!

Last night during our movie hour, Jake kicked the farting dog off of the couch. I asked him to light a candle and he ignored me while he was giggling about the farts. Another couple of minutes, Caesar farted again. I noticed that he was sitting very close to one of my knitting projects and so I screamed at Jake in my very annoying, nagging, wife tone, "Get that farting dog away from the sock that I am knitting for you! I am stringing beads here, working for you, and you are laughing while the dog shoots farts on my, I mean our furniture!! Jake says, through his laughing, "Caesar get off the chair. It's time to kennel."

So he moves the dog into the kennel, which is in the front entryway, at least 10 feet away from us, and the room and hallway stinks!! I feel like I am living in a sewer treatment plant, and Jake keeps laughing, because the d o g k e e ee p s f a r t i n g. How much of this do I have to live with, seriously?

He is a great dog, that has been coveted by many. He is a French Bulldog, that much is true. He is entirely black, except for about 15 hairs on his nose that are white, and a white patch under his neck and on his tummy. He loves having his belly scratched and he is a lover not a fighter. He gives Brutus a run for his money, but the lazy old fat Brutus can use a nice workout especially in these winter months. Caesar is already loyal to me, and follows me around the house which is part of this stinkin' problem! I can't avoid the farts because he follows me everywhere. When I look at him, I see Pigpen from Peanuts. Pigpen is a cute little kid, but he doesn't seem to know or care that he must really reek!

We are making a good effort to switch to the cloth diapers for the babes, and I have been afraid of the smell that would ensue after we made the switch to a diaper pail. With my handy poop sprayer that Jake installed in the bathroom, there is no poop to be seen on the diapers, but I keep smelling these poop smells. I realize that it is not the the diaper pail, but it is the farting dog because, that's right I am living in a fart factory. Oh! There he goes again!! I am serious. Seriously.

So Husband, I know that you are going to read this at some point, and I am sorry that I am going to have to throw another old tomato at you...The dog stops farting, or the dog must go. The dog will have to go to anyone of the various coveting individuals who have dreamed their entire lives of having a French Bulldog as their very own. They haven't been able to afford the very high fees that surround a pure bred designer French Bulldog but they are waiting with open arms for this...there he goes again! Seriously! Thankfully we did not pay anything for this dog, because I would feel like we really got screwed with a defective dog. There is the possibility that the previous owner was not allergic to the dog, but rather allergic to the farts! I am also allergic to the farts.

Did I forget to mention that these are also audible farts?

When Brutus farts, he at least has the decency to get scared when he hears them, and he leaves the room because he knows that the stinks and he is embarrassed. Caesar seems to have no shame, and so I feel that he thinks he is the king and alpha dog and the rest of us are just required to love the pungent stench from his butt.

I realize that my blog is filled with disgusting things, like the true life aspects about life, but is it totally necessary to have a farting dog? If this was a person, I would say That is something you see a doctor about. You stop eating what you are eating and as my father would say, "Does somebody need to go to the bathroom?" Yes! Caesar needs to go and live outside with his farts...he did it again. Seriously.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Absence = 25 Random Things

There is an epidemic of 25 random things to talk about on Facebook and we even had something like that at coffee this past week. So since my absence from blogging about all of these little Josephs we have had way more than 25 random things take place over the past month, but here are some of our highlights:
  1. I have made one layer cake each week for the past three weeks. The first was the Perfectly Hershey Chocolate cake for the "girls" night that I planned for my future sister-in-law to get the dish on the proposal, how she is feeling, maybe a tease at some wedding plans...but this was mostly an excuse to drink wine and have girl talk. It was not a girls evening, but instead a kid night with men. The newly engaged couple are joined at the hip, and my babies are joined at mine. Fiona flipped out a 103+ fever as she was cutting her first tooth/teeth and Iain took a tumble off a step ladder during our "adult" meal which resulted in time spent consoling him while on the phone with a nurse getting concussion watch instructions. (We had a 48 hour concussion watch, where we were suggested to keep Iain in bed with us in case he would start vomiting while asleep...this did not go over well, especially after a swift kick to the gonads almost had Jake vomiting in bed. Iain did not sleep with us. He did not have a concussion from falling, but could have had one from Jake whopping him on the head after the kick to the gonads...OK I made that part up about Jake hitting Iain because poor Honey was paralyzed with pain and gritting his teeth, wincing...Jake did throw Iain back into his bed.)
  2. Fiona is a very mobile baby, scooting down the hallways and climbing up the stairs in the office. She is pulling herself up to stand next to couches and chairs, but not quite to the cruising stage. She likes climbing onto our laps in order to stand and wiggle and giggle. Aside from the teething episodes, she is a completely happy baby full of laughter and squeals.
  3. On February 13th, we were the proud parents of a TWO YEAR OLD. Layer cake #2 was a white cannoli cake with chocolate whip cream frosting. I made an Italian Feast since Iain loves pasta and meatballs. I can officially say that I made my very best batch of sauce, and I must attribute it to the short ribs that cooked in the sauce all day. They were delicious! The meatballs were also tasty, but the stuffed artichokes were never stuffed and therefore never served. I think we should have stuffed artichokes for dinner!
  4. We have acquired a new dog. Since I like being official, his official name is Caesar. We have opened our home to this French Bulldog who needed a place after his previous owner had a stroke. He is giving Brutus a run for his money and food and places to snuggle us on the couch, but overall the beasts are getting along very well. Iain loves to let them go outside, and he also love, love LOVES to be outside with them. These little smash nosed tanks are wonderfully behaved especially after they chase each other around the yard.
  5. With a new dog, we have somehow acquired more toys. Caesar came with an entire laundry basket of dog toys, which were all over our house until I brought out my "old tomato" a.k.a. ultimatum that Jake start picking up after "his" dog, or I was going to send "the" dog back to where he came from.
  6. Caesar now has the worst flatulent of the entire family, including (but not limited to) Jake.
  7. Jake tried very, very hard to surprise me on Valentine's Day, but he failed because I am a stubborn wench.
  8. We have a new piano that is a very old antique piano, and I love it! I have had a few fun sessions of tickling the actual ivory keys, and Iain and Fiona love music so this has also been a wonderful addition to our family.
  9. Iain can NOT wait for spring when he can be running outside with his dogs. He forlornly looks out the window in hopes of a warm day.
  10. Iain scratched my cornea on Wednesday, so my vision is slightly blurry on the right half of my life.
  11. Jake continues to practice red neck snow removal by using our leaf blower.
  12. We were asked to speak at a Love/Marriage/Why do I like you forum for the post high school crowd at church. Jake and I were very nervous about sharing, however we had a great time and didn't want to leave! We learned some wonderful things about another couple at church and it has been very fun getting a more rounded out picture of people that we fellowship with.
  13. We had our very first field trip to the Des Moines Science Center of Iowa. Thrills and chills learning about science and some creepy crawly reptiles and amphibians. When do we get to learn about theatre? :o)
  14. Caesar still has the very worst farts ever!
  15. The third layer cake was made for coffee group, since a very dear friend was turning 30. I feel layer cake #3 was actually better than #1 even though I used the same exact recipe.
  16. Iain has learned his first letter...the letter O.
  17. We have our first homeschool materials! Iain has some very basic coloring worksheets with numbers and letters as well as some flashcards.
  18. I used A Beka curriculum from K-12th grade, and it was so exciting to see fun A Beka books for my little man.
  19. Fiona is eating anything and everything in sight! Iain does not like eating the food that I make, so we have had some interesting days in the life of a constipated toddler.
  20. Iain has decided that he likes taking pictures of me, when I want to take pictures of him.
  21. Jake and I planned to have one date night per month, with just the two of us and no other function or friends, but just us. We have kept this for January and we have February scheduled...on the 28th, but at least we have a plan!
  22. Jake and I, well mostly Erin, have been trying to figure out what we talked about before we got married that didn't involve babies, finances or work. Somehow we managed to stay on the phone for hours, plus the driving for each of us once a week between Des Moines and Iowa City was a time investment for both of us to only see each other. How is it that we see each other every day, and can't seem to find as much to talk about?
  23. I haven't made time to watch the news in several weeks, so I do feel slightly disconnected from all of the crap going on in the world around me.
  24. My big news for most of the days would be related to dog or baby poop.
  25. Jake and I probably don't laugh over a tray of sushi as often as we used to, but when cleaning the house and discovering piles of toys that the couch has eaten, we feel like we have found buried treasure, and we still laugh with each other, and I love it.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Thoughts from the Mother figure

So here I am in the very early morning, and just not tired. I know I will be in the morning, but whateVer! Jake was already snoring, and I just wasn't up for it at the moment. My feet are about 98% frozen and about 97% numb so I will need to retreat to the bed to thaw out next my nuclear reactor pretty soon.

I keep having this thought about women and tribes. So we all grow up and decide that we should get married and move in with our husbands. That's cool. Sometimes we move down the street or across the state, but some move across country. I can only imagine that it must be rough to be away from family and the community that you have come to love, OR you are fleeing for safety and privacy. So is the privacy all that it is cracked up to be.

Enter a baby...or two within two years for myself. Cloistered in my house with barely baby talk and all of the stuff that goes on here all day long. Oh wait, I sit around and eat bon bons and watch musicals all day, while I am knitting, right? Nahw. That is not what I do. Between the cooking and cleaning and diapering and cleaning and feeding people and trying to keep everyone clean and myself clean, there is a point where I feel like I need to go down to the river to do the wash with my girlfriends in my tribe, but there is no river, and no tribe and no chatting on a daily basis. Aren't we missing out on those daily connections?

If I was in my tribe and washing clothes or making dinner around a community fire, in a community pot, wait! We would probably all be making something and then sharing it. I could make bread, and Tribelady A would be making stew and Tribelady B would be making...bon bons for tomorrows time kicking around the fire while the men are off hunting...How do we have sounding boards amongst women, unless we are on the phone all day long? Where is the watering hole in this metropolis of Greater Des Moines? I want to be able to see potty training for other moms, and have the babes all playing together. I want to know what they are making for dinner, or maybe come over to my tent for dinner so we can continue talking about...whatever? I feel like my hunter would be much more attentive to me if I wasn't chewing his ear off every night because I think he wants to hear what I have to say. The stuff that I have been bottling in all day, knowing that my babes could care less what I think about all of the dust collecting in the corners of the house and all of the ins and outs of the home life. He doesn't need to hear all of gobble from the day, but he is typically the only adult being that could (if he wanted to) respond to me and actually listen. Being the adult female that has a great deal to get off of her chest, I talk to much!

I know that this faux tribe would not only consist of my peers but there would be the older mothers and grandmothers in the tribe who would impart their knowledge and experience by teaching and talking to me as well. The interaction, I think, would be amazing! I realize the thought of this screams "Compound!" to many people, but would I be a better Mom if everyday was a coffee day? Would my frustrations with my children and the chores around the house be eliminated with a quick vent to a fellow at home mother who might be feeling slightly cloistered as well?

*Sigh* I feel better already. Typing into this void with the chance that someone might hear me does something to my psyche that I can't quite explain. I don't want to say that misery loves company, because I am not miserable. I enjoy my confining house and my demanding babies, I just wonder if anyone else struggles with the dichotomy of loving where you are but still being frustrated about circumstances. Here is to the simplicity of tribal life!

I am sure that Jake would not be encouraged to go out hunting each day in a loin cloth, guiding Iain on the proper bow and arrow hunting that he would need to teach his loin clothed son. And Fiona and I would get tired of our boobs hanging out saluting the sun or the ground whatever the case may be, batting away flies and stepping on beetles on the floor of the rain forest. Our leaky hut would be damp and potentially cold, and we wouldn't understand where babies come from so our tent would probably be full to the brim! The potty training wouldn't be an issue, but I am sure there could be poisonous snakes lurking right around that palm tree over there.

I will keep to the confines of my dry, warm house, as well as the conveniences of my refrigerator, ice, running water, and the occasional wearing of a bra. Thank you Lord for putting me in the lifestyle to which I have grown accustomed.