I have very simple taste in food. I don't eat onions, hate green peppers, too much garlic doesn't agree with me, and I don't believe that you have to add "crunch" to tuna salad. Unfortunately, my mom doesn't share my belief in this.
Yesterday, my cousins had their annual around Labor Day party that celebrates the birthdays in their family that happen this month. I was dreading going simply because I hate getting ready for these things and dragging the kids. I am glad I went, though. It was nice to see everyone and have a day of relaxation and showing off the baby. :)
I've heard that it's different for other families or parts of the country, but we're pot luckers. It's kind of the unwritten rule that everyone will bring a side dish. This summer, I've settled into bringing ham rollups. Works for me. They're cheap and easy to make and they always get devoured. They're made of cream cheese, margarine, and cheddar cheese spread on ham slices and rolled up. Not the most nutritious, but they taste great and Tevin can eat them. Always a plus. My mom varies what she makes. At yesterday's party it was tuna salad. Another simple dish. Pasta shells, tuna, peas, cut up olives, and miracle whip. Unfortunately, she puts celery in it. Yick! Celery is just gross. It emits this taste with a nasty after taste. It adds a crunch, and when she uses really pale celery as she did yesterday, it is impossible to see to pick out. And she put SOOO much of it in! Apparently others agreed with my assessment, since there was a TON left over. I'm hungry for tuna salad and it seems silly to make more when there's a big bowl of it in my fridge. So I am picking out the celery. I haven't decided yet if it's worth the effort. It would be so much easier to eat if she would just leave the celery out to begin with.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
Rat with wings
It's 2:52 am and I am not only awake, but awake enough to be typing out this story with the knowledge that I won't be sleeping for quite some time. Why am I awake at this ungodly hour, you ask...baby? No, the baby is soundly asleep in my bed. Older kids? Nope, they're in their respective beds also fast asleep. Well, then what would keep someone (who was falling over tired not 2 hours ago and knows she has to be awake in the morning) from her bed? The answer to that question entered my life 2 hours ago. A bat.
I was laying in bed lamenting over how Cadence had put herself on this nice little schedule of going to sleep between 8 and 9, sleeping for 4-5 hours, getting up to eat, and then going back to sleep for another 4-5 hours. She had gone to sleep around 8 last night, started stirring at 12:30. I fed her on one side, changed her diaper and got jammies on her, snuggled a little bit, and started feeding her on the other side. I was laying there reading my book for awhile to get my eyes tired and shut my mind off. I was just thinking that I was getting tired and was just going to finish the last 2 pages of the chapter when something HUUUUGE and black flew into my bedroom. At first I was hoping it was just a monster moth whose size was distorted by the fact that I was looking at it from the corner of my eye. As it swooped around my head, I realized that it was not. It was a bat. I threw the covers over my head and screamed. Well, more of a shriek, really. I watched it fly a bit, then my dog and cat ran into the room. Casey knocked it down. Good dog. I thought it was dead. It was laying there on the floor beside my bed. Casey jumped on the bed as if to say "there, taken care of. I've earned my place on the bed tonight." I knew that I needed to get the rodent out of my room, though. I watched as the cat started walking up to it and sniffing it. I yelled at her to get away. Even though she just had her rabies shot on Friday, I don't need to be taking any chances. I was just about to get out of bed and dispose of it when it STARTED FLYING AGAIN. I screamed again (this time it really was a scream) and ducked under the covers.
I grabbed the phone and dialed Matt. He didn't answer (it was 1:30 our time, 2:30 his time) but called right back. He had figured Tevin woke up and needed to talk to him. I practically yelled "there's a bat in our room!" That seemed to take a bit of the sleep from his voice and he asked me to repeat. "there's a bat in our room. I don't like bats! What do I do?" "Well, you can't kill it. Bats are a protected animal. That's what the guys said when we had one in the store." Protected, my ass! It's a vile little creature flying around in my bedroom. In my house. If I can figure out a way, the thing will die. I went over the situation with him. He said I should leave the room and sleep somewhere else. Uh...and where would that be? We co-sleep. That means Cadence sleeps with me. She won't sleep in her bassinette and we don't have the crib set up. The only other beds set up in the house are currently being used. Plus, our room is unable to be closed off due to there not being a door properly installed. I wouldn't sleep with a bat able to swoop around my head. I continued to try to figure out what to do while huddling under my covers sweating my butt off and shrieking every time I would look out and see the bat flying. The dog gave up and lay on the bed watching the show. Same for the cat. Cadence slept.
I decided Matt wouldn't be much help, so I told him I was calling my mom. I remember waking up several times in my youth to my mom screaming, doors slamming, and my dad telling me to just stay put, there was a bat in the house. I think my parents might to this day sleep with a tennis racket next to their bed. Unfortunately, I do not.
I dialed my parents' number. My dad answered. "There's a bat in my room!" I don't remember what he responded, but he didn't seem to be very sympathetic. My mom picked up the phone and sounded a bit more awake than my dad. I told her. She was much more helpful. She sympathized, as she hates bats, too. She also suggested leaving the room. I explained why that wouldn't work. She encouraged me to watch the bat to see its pattern. Well, I think Casey stunned it, so it wasn't really flying in a pattern. She came up with several plans that were all followed with "and then what?" She would tell me to open the window. And then what? Well, maybe it will go to the window. And then what...there's screens on them. Well, you could shut the window and trap it there. And then what? Well, it would sleep in the morning. And then what? You could get the screen off. Um, no. We continued with this until I looked once and the bat wasn't flying. Oh, crap. Where was it.
"Casey, where's the bat?" Oddly enough, the dog didn't answer. Didn't even do anything helpful like look at where the bat was. "Shasta...are you there?" Couldn't even find the cat. She was probably snacking. My mom suggested I shut the door. I looked at the door. "Ohmygod! It's on top of the door." It was laying on top of the door. Just laying there. I was afraid to move because that might get it flying again. But what could I do? I made Casey get off the bed. Bat didn't move. So I got the plan to shut the door, which would push the bat off the door and onto the floor, where I could cover it with the empty wastebasket and leave it there for Mom to deal with when she comes in the morning (she had plans to come help pack this week anyway). Alright. But was it dead or alive? I didn't want it to start flying at me. I got close to the door, wastebasket in hand. And I saw its ears move. "eeeeek! It's alive! Its ears moved!" My mom sounded like she was enjoying this just a little too much. Okay, so I'll open the window and take the screen off. "So when you get here in the morning there may be a screen on the front lawn. Bring that in with you." But I got the screen off and brought it into the room. Hey, protection! Yay. I got the flat sheet off the floor, covered myself with that, covered the baby with the comforter, and crawled to the edge of the bed. I put the phone down and nudged the door closed with the screen while I held the wastebasket. And I watched the bat wake up and start flying again. Another scream and plunged my head under the covers again. Now what? I was yelling at the bat to fly out the window, but it just wasn't. I picked the phone up and updated my mom on the situation.
I watched it fly, thinking about trying to swat it down with the screen. Then it flew out. Crap! Now it's loose in the house somewhere! Wait, but maybe it's in the baby's room. I could close the door and lock it in there! I got up and sure enough, there it was flying around in circles. Quickly, I ran over and slammed the door shut. Mom cautioned me to stuff something under the doorway so it couldn't crawl out. eeep! What about the top crack? And that hole in the door...does it go all the way through? "Well, then, get duct tape." Duct tape! Awesome idea! I ran downstairs and grabbed it. I taped the top and the bottom of the door, plus the whole in the door that I don't think goes all the way through but why would I risk it? Then I put some clothing in front of the bottom...just to be sure.
I'm hot, I'm sweaty, I'm tired, and there's a bat flying in my house. But there's no possible way I can sleep right now. I might even be up for the rest of the night. Some day I may look back at this and laugh, or maybe I'll just start sleeping with a tennis racket next to my bed. Just to be safe.
I was laying in bed lamenting over how Cadence had put herself on this nice little schedule of going to sleep between 8 and 9, sleeping for 4-5 hours, getting up to eat, and then going back to sleep for another 4-5 hours. She had gone to sleep around 8 last night, started stirring at 12:30. I fed her on one side, changed her diaper and got jammies on her, snuggled a little bit, and started feeding her on the other side. I was laying there reading my book for awhile to get my eyes tired and shut my mind off. I was just thinking that I was getting tired and was just going to finish the last 2 pages of the chapter when something HUUUUGE and black flew into my bedroom. At first I was hoping it was just a monster moth whose size was distorted by the fact that I was looking at it from the corner of my eye. As it swooped around my head, I realized that it was not. It was a bat. I threw the covers over my head and screamed. Well, more of a shriek, really. I watched it fly a bit, then my dog and cat ran into the room. Casey knocked it down. Good dog. I thought it was dead. It was laying there on the floor beside my bed. Casey jumped on the bed as if to say "there, taken care of. I've earned my place on the bed tonight." I knew that I needed to get the rodent out of my room, though. I watched as the cat started walking up to it and sniffing it. I yelled at her to get away. Even though she just had her rabies shot on Friday, I don't need to be taking any chances. I was just about to get out of bed and dispose of it when it STARTED FLYING AGAIN. I screamed again (this time it really was a scream) and ducked under the covers.
I grabbed the phone and dialed Matt. He didn't answer (it was 1:30 our time, 2:30 his time) but called right back. He had figured Tevin woke up and needed to talk to him. I practically yelled "there's a bat in our room!" That seemed to take a bit of the sleep from his voice and he asked me to repeat. "there's a bat in our room. I don't like bats! What do I do?" "Well, you can't kill it. Bats are a protected animal. That's what the guys said when we had one in the store." Protected, my ass! It's a vile little creature flying around in my bedroom. In my house. If I can figure out a way, the thing will die. I went over the situation with him. He said I should leave the room and sleep somewhere else. Uh...and where would that be? We co-sleep. That means Cadence sleeps with me. She won't sleep in her bassinette and we don't have the crib set up. The only other beds set up in the house are currently being used. Plus, our room is unable to be closed off due to there not being a door properly installed. I wouldn't sleep with a bat able to swoop around my head. I continued to try to figure out what to do while huddling under my covers sweating my butt off and shrieking every time I would look out and see the bat flying. The dog gave up and lay on the bed watching the show. Same for the cat. Cadence slept.
I decided Matt wouldn't be much help, so I told him I was calling my mom. I remember waking up several times in my youth to my mom screaming, doors slamming, and my dad telling me to just stay put, there was a bat in the house. I think my parents might to this day sleep with a tennis racket next to their bed. Unfortunately, I do not.
I dialed my parents' number. My dad answered. "There's a bat in my room!" I don't remember what he responded, but he didn't seem to be very sympathetic. My mom picked up the phone and sounded a bit more awake than my dad. I told her. She was much more helpful. She sympathized, as she hates bats, too. She also suggested leaving the room. I explained why that wouldn't work. She encouraged me to watch the bat to see its pattern. Well, I think Casey stunned it, so it wasn't really flying in a pattern. She came up with several plans that were all followed with "and then what?" She would tell me to open the window. And then what? Well, maybe it will go to the window. And then what...there's screens on them. Well, you could shut the window and trap it there. And then what? Well, it would sleep in the morning. And then what? You could get the screen off. Um, no. We continued with this until I looked once and the bat wasn't flying. Oh, crap. Where was it.
"Casey, where's the bat?" Oddly enough, the dog didn't answer. Didn't even do anything helpful like look at where the bat was. "Shasta...are you there?" Couldn't even find the cat. She was probably snacking. My mom suggested I shut the door. I looked at the door. "Ohmygod! It's on top of the door." It was laying on top of the door. Just laying there. I was afraid to move because that might get it flying again. But what could I do? I made Casey get off the bed. Bat didn't move. So I got the plan to shut the door, which would push the bat off the door and onto the floor, where I could cover it with the empty wastebasket and leave it there for Mom to deal with when she comes in the morning (she had plans to come help pack this week anyway). Alright. But was it dead or alive? I didn't want it to start flying at me. I got close to the door, wastebasket in hand. And I saw its ears move. "eeeeek! It's alive! Its ears moved!" My mom sounded like she was enjoying this just a little too much. Okay, so I'll open the window and take the screen off. "So when you get here in the morning there may be a screen on the front lawn. Bring that in with you." But I got the screen off and brought it into the room. Hey, protection! Yay. I got the flat sheet off the floor, covered myself with that, covered the baby with the comforter, and crawled to the edge of the bed. I put the phone down and nudged the door closed with the screen while I held the wastebasket. And I watched the bat wake up and start flying again. Another scream and plunged my head under the covers again. Now what? I was yelling at the bat to fly out the window, but it just wasn't. I picked the phone up and updated my mom on the situation.
I watched it fly, thinking about trying to swat it down with the screen. Then it flew out. Crap! Now it's loose in the house somewhere! Wait, but maybe it's in the baby's room. I could close the door and lock it in there! I got up and sure enough, there it was flying around in circles. Quickly, I ran over and slammed the door shut. Mom cautioned me to stuff something under the doorway so it couldn't crawl out. eeep! What about the top crack? And that hole in the door...does it go all the way through? "Well, then, get duct tape." Duct tape! Awesome idea! I ran downstairs and grabbed it. I taped the top and the bottom of the door, plus the whole in the door that I don't think goes all the way through but why would I risk it? Then I put some clothing in front of the bottom...just to be sure.
I'm hot, I'm sweaty, I'm tired, and there's a bat flying in my house. But there's no possible way I can sleep right now. I might even be up for the rest of the night. Some day I may look back at this and laugh, or maybe I'll just start sleeping with a tennis racket next to my bed. Just to be safe.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Why I get no packing done
AKA Tale of a tired housewife
Matt is in Michigan. He won't be home until August 22. He'll be coming home right after he closes on our house over there. And the following week we will be moving into said house. Given that this is only 2 weeks away, you'd think we would be pretty much packed, right? Uh, no. We got very little packing done before he left. Partially because of our nature of procrastination. Partially because we have a billion other projects in the works. And partially because it's nearly impossible to get anything done with a newborn around.
Enter reason #1 I get no packing done:
Matt is in Michigan. He won't be home until August 22. He'll be coming home right after he closes on our house over there. And the following week we will be moving into said house. Given that this is only 2 weeks away, you'd think we would be pretty much packed, right? Uh, no. We got very little packing done before he left. Partially because of our nature of procrastination. Partially because we have a billion other projects in the works. And partially because it's nearly impossible to get anything done with a newborn around.
Enter reason #1 I get no packing done:
She's a baby. She's needy. That's her job. I'm fine with that. I didn't choose to have another child to make my life easier. I love snuggling with her. I love watching her learn about her new world. At the moment I became her mother, I loved her with such an amazing intensity, I'd do pretty much anything for her. So the fact that she demands to be fed at least every 5 hours and at most constantly...well, that accounts for the grand sum of 7 boxes I've packed in the last week.
I'm not suggesting that I spend all day every day feeding her. Or even that I've been home the entire week. In fact, I took Tevin and Cadence up to my parents' house from Sunday through Wednesday this week. My mom wanted to have some time with the "little kids" so we kept my niece Emily and nephew Ryan, too. We did fun things like 
pushing Cadence around in the doll stroller and playing "puppy dog" with the nerf football. I gotta say, when my son commits to being a puppy, he really goes all out. 
Unfortunately, Tevin doesn't listen nearly as well as a puppy. He's hitting this horrible phase. I'll consider myself lucky that he's been an awesome kid who listens really well for the first 4 years of his life. Lately, though, he is suddenly being a preschooler. He's completely ignoring me, saying no, and getting sassy as can be. And driving me CRAZY.
Then there's Samantha. She got back today from Girl Scout camp. She said she missed us and was homesick the whole time. I'm trying to figure out why, then, she did little else but whine at me and fight with her brother all evening. She's at a tough age. She's old enough to know better, but still too young to care, as the saying goes. She's rebelling a bit because she doesn't want to move to Michigan. I can understand that. She's moving away from her friends and everything she knows. 
She's also dealing with a bit of resentment over being the big sister. She doesn't know why she has to act her age and her siblings don't have to act her age.
The constant bickering, the repeating myself 100 times, the answering the cry of my baby by whipping out my boob...it's tiring. By the time I actually get the kids to bed I'm so tired there's no way I'm going to pack. As soon as I got them to sleep (the biggest miracle of the night is that Cadence is sleeping in my bed while I'm downstairs listening for her on the monitor) I made a yummy salad of spinach, feta cheese, almond slivers, strawberries, and raspberry vinaigrette. I got out a wine glass and poured myself a glass of Red Rose. And I popped in a movie.
In my defense, I did manage to get 2 big garbage bags full of trash from our room and I packed 2 boxes of my books while the kids were watching Alvin and the Chipmunks in there and Sam was holding Cadence. I have the sinking feeling that we'll be tossing things in boxes the week that we move. But can packing ever be as rewarding as a day at the childrens' museum followed by an evening of nursing and regaining my sanity?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)