Saturday, April 25, 2015

Everything Takes Forever.

I lost my home office slash craft room. But it went for a good cause. Since she moved overseas, the teen hasn't seen her best friend in nearly a year. Best friend's mom flew best friend over for two weeks. My home office slash craft room became the guest room. And if you ask me, it is all worth it. She will be here tonight, and stay right through the Sweet 16 party which I totally planned around her flight over. Because that is the kind of mom I am.

Of course that means my computer was off line for a few days while I transitioned everything. I am sure a normal person could have done it in a couple hours. I am not normal. Between home school, the school co-op, play dates, and cooking every recipe for the party as a trial run, on top of the zillion loads of laundry, hand washing a zillion dishes (my dishwasher blew up, of course), and vacuuming the ugly olive floors a zillion times, it took me almost a damn week to move things around.

Feels good to be back. Oh keyboard, how I have missed you.

Even better, I have a direction to take that novel I have been working on. It means going back for a bit of research but I am so excited about this change it will be worth it. In my head, I can hear M- saying "uh, there is enough story here for three books." Whatever. I like a lot of stuff to happen. Slow books are boring books. Am I right?

Friday, April 17, 2015

I Failed, But Only C- Failed.

Here it is Friday, day 6, and my "I swear I am not agoraphobic let me prove it" week is a bust. I am on the second of two days of not leaving the house for anything besides trips to the grocery store.

Granted the trip to the store today took well over an hour because the most talkative woman in the world was hired by the bakery. She offered free cookies to the kids. I felt a bit obligated to chit chat. Chit chat became a very droll and lengthy marathon of small talk. She had this very variable accent that didn't at all sound real and a name to go with it that was equally unreal. I instantly thought of an old favorite tv series of mine where in one episode, when confronted with the same type of person, the main character announced: "Eileen O'Hara? Why Tommy, that's too impossibly Irish for words!" Well, Tommy, Cookie Woman was too Mother-Russia for words. After I left, I bet Cookie Woman went to Deli Person and had a good laugh over how the idiot mom, me, had no idea she was totally faking that accent. Yeah. No idea. Great job.

Technically I am headed out tonight for a birthday shindig, so while it does count as me leaving the house, I didn't do it in the day time, with the kids, and without another adult in tow. Which is apparently my prime agoraphobic time. Which is why I say I failed the day. But, good news! Gwyneth Paltrow also failed her challenge week. Failed it hard, and still gave herself a C- grade. If she thinks utter failure is still a passing grade, then I will too. Hooray for me. I got a C- this week. That's enough to prove I can leave if I want to and now will kindly go back to dwelling in my little hole and never come out again and you all can't say boo about it. So there.

And in the spirit of hashtag failing not failing, I went online shopping for bedding for the guest room instead of going to an actual store. The picture looked amazing. The price was better than amazing. In fact, it was too good to be true. I bet it won't at all be anything but exactly like the picture. I bet it isn't made with questionable chemical dyes and stuffed with partially synthetic mouse fur. I am sure it will not at all clash with the "zomg what were they thinking" shade of olive green carpet I have in every damn room in my house. I am sure this will not end horribly, with someone curled up into the fetal position sobbing in the corner rocking and moaning that she will never buy white goods online.


But we all get to wait until the 21st for none of this to happen as the delivery won't be made until that day. And just in time, too. My goal is to have the room done by that Friday, so it can be done and dusted before the obsessive freak-fest inner party planner has at my house for the Sweet 16, which will end just in time for obsessive impossible standard inner hostess with the mostest to get ready for the two week mother-in-law visit.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

The A-word.

My husband has expressed some, shall we say, concerns over my apparent inability to leave the house. He at one time even mentioned the A-word: agoraphobia. Thanks to WebMD and my medical degree from Google U, I can say in my most humble and professional opinion that I, without a doubt, do not suffer from this panic disorder. I can also say that I do suffer, without a doubt, from a scorching case of the lazies. It may be incurable.

You see, it isn't that I am afraid to leave the house. It is I am not really willing to deal with the crap that goes along with leaving the house. It takes so much time and effort- it sounds a lot like work to me. We all know I signed up for this housewife shindig to avoid any work. I mean, I saw the brochure. I know housewives spend all day shopping, grooming, eating, and drinking massive amounts of martinis. Sadly the marketing men lied to me. I don't own martini glasses or vermouth, the only shopping I do involves bulk levels of toilet paper and carrots, and my make-up expired over a year ago, still in the original packaging. Even worse, I have to do this thing called taking the kids out.

First I have to prepare. I need to pack a complete set of clothes for each, diapers and accoutrements to cover a poop blow out every 15 minutes of my anticipated away time, and find the necessary shoes, socks, jackets, and cuddly toys. If I am going out longer than 60 minutes, I also need to pack snacks and two bottles of water each, as something untoward is bound to end up in one of them rendering it undrinkable. Each bottle needs to be clearly marked with their names in permanent ink of the correct color. I need to ensure both kids are still wearing a full set of clothing, said clothing is weather appropriate, and the eldest has visited the toilet to ensure empty bowels and bladder which can refill with such rapidity that she will probably have to go the second I get her belted into the car anyway. Once we are ready to leave, we line up, dip the finger in the holy water, and head out into the garage for phase two: getting into the car.

Each child has a routine they must perform. The 2.5 year old must wave her butt at the neighborhood and scream "my butt is outside my butt is outside" a half dozen times. The 4.5 year old must wander off to collect as much nature as she can, preferably that nature most likely to be recently sprayed by cats. Both must alternate running around in circles as I try to catch the other and put bodies in the car. I, of course, will have put bodies in wrong and the only way to rectify this is for bodies to leave the car and run around in circles. Eventually the bodies will climb in themselves, usually upon penalty of not going after all and/or time out of the favorite cuddly toy. They will get belted in and may or may not be happy with the condition of the belting. Usually not. Like I care if they think it's too tight or they don't like the fact the chest clip on their actual chest. Like they care when I haul out the manual to show them the instructions and all I get is a blank stare and "duh, I can't read" comment snapped back at me.

Once we are in, we can drive to where ever it is we are going. The drive is usually met with one child wildly excitedly pointing out something through the window and the other child wildly upset because they can't see it as one sits forward facing and one sits reverse facing. Complaints about the music, the topic of conversation, and the brightness and location of the sun fill the air. Then comes the fight over who gets to get out first, where they should stand while I get the second child out, and who should hold whose hand and in which order should we walk.

It is a full 20 minute ordeal to get them in the car, and at least a 10 minute ordeal to get them out. The place we are going had really better be worth 30 minutes of hell or, frankly, I am giving it a miss. It isn't agoraphobia, it is I'd rather poke my eye out than spend an hour out of my very precious day trying to get to/from anywhere that I really could put off for another day. Or two. Or forever.

However, because the husband does worry and is so concerned about my well being and really does mean well, I decided to suck it up and take the kids out once a day for an entire week. Day three is today and I already failed. For sake of my defense, we suddenly got blasted with a freak snow storm and driving in seriously bad weather just for shits and giggles is highly ill advised. But, bonus, I had no idea what on earth to do on Friday and I can recycle today's idea then. So not a total loss. Go me.

I hope the husband appreciates the effort. Because of the great amount of time wasted getting small bodies to some destination, my housework is woefully behind. He might end up having to do all the dinner dishes again for me. I bet that cures him of throwing the A-word around at me again.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Sweet 16: Invitations

The teen and I spent a couple hours this afternoon putting together her invites. Earlier this week I had made a simple box template resembling a camera. Today we cut sixteen out and folded/taped them together.

There is a slit in the front that releases the actual invite details (done on a strip of paper), much like a Polaroid camera would. The picture across the front came from this great tutorial for a birthday card. I just used the camera front and glued it down.

The boxes themselves are a bit wonky and the fronts aren't a perfect match. But the effect, and the fun, is there. Now hopefully we will get all 16 RSVP's on time so I know how many plates and utensils I need for the dinner.

Why yes, I am still on about the damn tableware.