Whadya mean September's half-way over???!?!?!!!

It's the end of August, isn't it? Summer's still here. Well I swear September 1st was just the other day. I can't possibly be expected to think about Halloween now, can I? Ai yaiy yaiy. Between weddings, home improvement projects, runaway dogs, and toddler preschool, I seem to have lost all track of time. Did I mention it's been taking 1 hour to get Punkin down for a nap that only lasts an hour and a half??? I know I know. No excuses.

Well, instead of regaling you with some witty story about my not-so-exceptional life, I'll tell you about my list of projects. My list has now become a book, which soon may grow to novel length but for now remains in a trusty notebook I bring everywhere with me. To the grocery store, the doctor's office, the pub, the nail salon, the zoo, the playground, the gas station (where I sign away every last penny my husband has ever earned just to fill the piddly tank in our once economical compact car).

The list has many parts, or sub-lists, the most important of which is the list of home improvement projects because that list is the most unrealistic, costly, and time-consuming projects that will most likely never come to fruition while we still own this house. Unless of course we never move. It ranges from the somewhat mandatory (replace cracked and leaking shower tiles and rotten wood we will mostly likely find behind them) to the aesthetic (create a usable front lawn from the existing heap of dying trees, prickly bushes, and colossal rocks) to the possibly unrealistic (make a vegetable garden and grow vegetables). Throw in a complete kitchen remodel, basement finishing, backyard leveling and patio, and new windows and a few doors where windows are now, and we've got approximately 10,000 hrs and $100,000 worth of "home improvements" on our dream list. Oh, did I mention the new fence to keep the renegade dog from having the run of the neighborhood??? Oh yeah, and a few minor changes to the living room - like re-tiling the fireplace, painting the walls, and putting in new trim.

Then there's the minor home improvements list, the ones I actually think I can do in a weekend, but still haven't accomplished since I started the list 3 months ago. Like getting curtains for the windows, hanging pictures on the walls, painting the kitchen chairs, or even bringing up a bedside lamp from the basement.

This past weekend I was on the Kitsap peninsula (a gorgeous area between Seattle and the more-famous Olympic peninsula) and I happened upon an enlightening book, in a chocolate shop of all places. It was a book of suggestions and "rules to live by" for husbands and wives...and it was written in 1913. When I picked it up I expected to find archaic and sexist ideas that would make me laugh at the absurdity or feel indignant at what was expected of my great-grandmothers. Instead, I actually found some of the suggestions helpful. Like the one that said don't spend all your money on a big house and fancy furniture just to impress your neighbors. (If only I cared that much about the neighbors - now I just have to learn to like Ikea and all things particle board and crappy). Ah, but I digress - it truly was helpful. Especially the financial chapter. In the Wives version of the book, it said not rely on money for happiness - I've currently been under a spell that left me believing "if only I could afford to make this house perfect, I would be happy." And the same chapter in the Husband's version of the book said several things to the affect of "don't deny your wife any and all access to money; don't make her constantly ask for funds to improve or simply sustain the household, because it takes a lot to do that and some things may actually make her life more livable." Okay, I paraphrased a bit there, and yes, there's sexism in assuming the Husband is the only bread winner and the wife just keeps house and asks for "an allowance," but it just so happens that right now in our lives that's exactly how things are. SO, either I'm living the repressed life of a 1913-era housewife, or some advice is actually sustainable over the years.

My point (before I forget it) is that I plan on applying some of this archaic wisdom to my Book of Lists. From now on I shall try to make minor changes where I used to think only major construction was possible. I will try to do as much with my own hands and limited budget, rather than spending thousands of dollars (that I don't have) to get some professional to do it. And I will look more closely at the rest of my life, not just my house, my walls, my kitchen, and my yard, to see where improvements could be made in the happiness department.

I'll be sure to tell you all how disastrous this turns out to be...

Happy 4th of July....Now What??

Our little nuclear family celebrated a relatively low-key 4th watching the local parade and spending time with relatives. I wish I had fabulously interesting stories to tell you about it, but Punkin was just as unimpressed with the holiday as he was last year...


The end of the holiday weekend also brought the end of Veggie's vacation. So now I am at my parents' house, in coastal Massachusetts, living the life of a single parent for 3 WHOLE WEEKS. I am such a wimp - I am terrified. I am NOT cut out to be a single parent. I applaud single parents around the globe. I know in most cases it is not a mother or father's choice to raise children alone, without a mate. But still, whether you choose to or not, YOU ROCK....and I don't.

SO, besides feeling sorry for myself, which I was told is really "unattractive" and which really isn't fair since I am spending my summer at the beach and not in a stuffy office somewhere, I've come to the realization that I must have something to do. (In all my spare time - haha). But seriously, I can't spend the next 3 weeks sitting on the beach watching Punkin carry bucket-fulls of sand back and forth without going TOTALLY INSANE. Maybe I've got a bit of A-D-D, maybe I'm just plain crazy. But I need some sort of project, something to occupy my mind, the time Punkin spends napping, and the time Grandma DD "babysits."

I've got several ideas so far - reading a few good books, making a First Year photo album for Mr. P. But in the off chance I get bored with those, I'd love to hear your suggestions. What would you do with 3 weeks at the beach and no companion??

Thinking In Tens

I’m copying ScienceMama, only my answers are soooooo boring!

In Ten Minutes: I will be watching tonight’s episode of Bachelorette. My husband would join me on the couch...if there was room.

In Ten Hours: I will be feeding my son breakfast and hopefully able to stomach some myself. Recovery is oh so slow...

In Ten Days: I will either be home, in Seattle, up to absolutely nothing important; or I will be in Massachusetts, bored silly, up to absolutely nothing important.

In Ten Weeks: It will August in Seattle. My basement will be finished! (I hope) My new kitchen will be all planned and ready to take shape. (I hope)

In Ten Months: I will have a two year old on my hands. I will most likely be pregnant. Shhhh....don’t tell!

In Ten Years: I will be happy, wherever we’ve settled, with my 3 kids, 2 dogs, 1 husband (or maybe 2 - just to spice things up a bit) and a career I love that allows me to enjoy time with my family and everyday successes.

What are you doing in the next Ten???

Happy Birthday - Part 2

So we’re all excited about buying this camera, right? And we’ve picked out exactly which one we want and which store seemed to have the best deal on it. And whadya know there all sold out. And so are the other Best Buys in the area because apparently it’s a really popular camera (at least we know we made a good choice?). Next we check Target - it was next door - but they’ve got a limited selection and we’re not willing to budge on our decision just to get instant gratification of a new camera. So on our way home we call Circuit City - all sold out - and just as we’re thinking of giving up I suggest we try the local camera shop - god forbid - to which I know Veggie will be all “but they’ll mark the price up” so I’m all “well at least we’ll know then, won’t we” secretly thinking “what’s an extra thirty bucks if I can HAVE IT KNOW” and devilishly rubbing my palms together and cackling under my breath.

Sure enough the local camera shop sells it, but oh yeah, they’re sold out, too. Our last option? To drive to freakin’ Bellevue and pick one up at their sister store. Just as we’re about to have the guy in Bellevue put one on hold for us, Veggie has the smarts to ask the sales clerk if we’re really buying the right camera for our money. As it turns out...we’re not. He then presents us with the cheaper, earlier version and says something about some jargon that I’m barely paying attention to because Punkin is trying desperately to knock over a display of tripods (good thing tripods are made to not fall over...except when a brutish toddler starts experimenting with his own strength...). So we switch places, I fiddle with the two display models and drill the sales clerk with questions, and sure enough we decide to buy the cheaper version. It does help that as I’m debating the options Veggie pipes up from the corner of the store where he’s been chasing Punkin “If we get the cheaper camera, we can buy the point-n-shoot, too!” Suddenly the aberration is back, taunting me with his rationalization, “We were already planning on spending that much money, now we can get two cameras for the price of one!” I caved in a matter of seconds.

Now I’m just waiting to scrape Veggie off the floor when he sees the next credit card bill. I figure some high quality pics of his little family might aid in his recovery...

And so here I am, typing away about cameras waiting for the batteries to charge! I will post new pictures ASAP.

Happy Birthday To Me...and You

Veggie and I just dropped an obscene amount of money at the camera store. On, you guessed it, CAMERAS!!! Yes, that’s cameraS, as in MULTIPLE. Perhaps we’ve gone COMPLETELY INSANE. I don’t know. I don’t really care. I now own TWO NEW CAMERAS!! Can you tell I’m a little excited about this?

So here’s what happened. Today I woke up feeling a bit woozy and my stomach still flimsy, but definitely a step up from yesterday. Plus, the SUN IS OUT IN SEATTLE. This doesn’t happen very often these days. Just yesterday I was remarking on how odd it was to be May 23 and have the heat cranked to 71 degrees and my furry slippers on at 2 in the afternoon. So sun (and the warmth it brings with it) was oh so welcome today. I decided to venture outside with my little family - a first since my fateful trip to the doctor’s office earlier in the week. And with the sun shining and Punkin doing his thing - looking cuter than ever, of course - I grabbed our little point-n-shoot and set about archiving this day in film (or megapixel, but you get the drift).

I think it took me all of 2 snapshots and 15 curses under my breath to declare that it was TIME WE BOUGHT OURSELVES A DECENT CAMERA!!! I was trying to focus on our first blooming roses, those that weren’t dying from dehydration, and the stupid camera kept focusing on the leaves, or the stems, or the FREAKIN’ WALL BEHIND THE ROSES. WTF is up with that? After “wasting” a number of shots on blurry petals (ok, it’s hard to really waste digital photos, I know) I got an idea. Seriously, if you’d been standing next to me you would have seen a little cartoon light bulb go DING right above my head.

I ran inside to find my trusty Canon EOS - and no, that’s not a dSLR or I wouldn’t be complaining about crappy pictures now, would I? No, it’s an old school, film-operated, EOS 630 from the early ’90’s that I “inherited” from my brother back in high school. (Actually, “inherited” isn’t exactly an accurate term - I think my parents bought it from him and then gave it to me for my birthday, typical of my relationship with my brother, but I’m over it).

Flipping to manual mode, I excitedly began taking up-close pictures of the rose blooms, focusing on their minute stamens or never ending curled tunnels of petals. I took some rather perfect shots of Punkin looking over his daddy’s shoulder, and a few of the dog lying in the sun, too. Later on, when I went to remove the used up film and search for a new roll, I discovered it was BLACK AND WHITE. Ok, I’m sure some of those pictures will look fabulous in b/w, especially those of the Punkin. But what I really wanted to capture that day were the colors in the sun and the different shades of the flowers and, well, it was just one more frustration.

So after rediscovering my love for my old camera, but my frustration for film - I mean, when am I really going to get those pictures developed? - I then declared it was TIME WE BOUGHT OURSELVES A DIGITAL SLR!!! I’ve been toying with this idea for a long time now and up until recently I was sure I would never own one until my fairy god mouse dropped one on my doorstep someday. But today I was feeling especially daring and told my husband we HAD TO HAVE ONE and just waited to see Mr. Frugal’s reaction. To my surprise, he whipped out his computer and started looking up camera reviews on CNET! I started to argue my point, about how taking a picture with this piece of crap (our 4 year old Canon Powershot A85) was not really taking pictures because pictures should actually capture REAL LIFE and not some digital interpretation of something that sort of looks like what you saw with your own two eyes. Whereas that camera, my trusty EOS, allowed me to photograph exactly what I was looking at and even capture a tiny, pearly water droplet on the petal of a flower. Now THAT was taking pictures.

Rather than try to rationalize me out of my declaration, Veggie merely replied, “I think we should get a Cannon so we can use your old lenses.” (Ever the frugal-minded one).

So somewhere in the following hours of research and deliberation we came across two options: #1: Buy a full body SLR camera - a cheaper, slightly more compact version of the true dSLR, and without the ability to change out lenses. Or #2: Buy a dSLR and a compact, updated point-n-shoot for slipping in a pocket or purse, on-the-go picture taking when we didn’t want to haul out the big mamma camera. And true to my anti-frugal nature when fulfilling life-long dreams and wishes, I persuasively argued for option #2 - the best of both worlds!

When Veggie surprisingly agreed to option #2 (after a few more hours of research and deliberation and tossing around numbers and upcoming credit card bills and some birthday money from the parents) he then asked me the most shocking question: “Which one should we buy first?”

Well, what did it matter which one we bought first if we were going to buy both? And didn’t Best Buy sell them both anyway, so wouldn’t that be easiest - to just pick them up in one trip? Veggie shook his head, sucked in his breath, and suddenly there I was, sitting next to my husband again, not the strange aberration that had been feeding my greedy inner child just moments before.

We finally agreed to get the dSLR and have fun with it this summer. And just like that we were off to Best Buy, a reluctant Punkin in tow...

TO BE CONTINUED...

Sick

I could make many excuses for my absence.

But I won’t. I’ll just tell you about the last few days I’ve spent IN HELL.

This week, the one we’re finishing right now apparently, with a so-called “holiday weekend,” this week has been a really really bad week. I’m not sure what has been worse: holding my squirming, crying, pissed off toddler, trying lamely to comfort him when all he wants is BOOB mom, come on just a little BOOB, but I am under strict orders not to whip it out as often as he’d like because I might pass out from the dehydration. Or spending all night running back and forth from bed to bathroom wishing I had a bedpan and crossing my fingers I won’t make a mess in the bed if I sleep right through but kinda wishing I could just sleep right through it because the pain in my gut is so excruciating when it wakes me up at 3 am that I’d rather just not be here for it and stopping short on more than one occasion from asking my husband, “Could you get me more pedialyte...and maybe some dry toast...oh and could you pick me some depends while you’re out?”

Yeah, that’s what 5 days with a stomach flu will do to you. I figure if I finally break down and really do ask for the Depends ya might as well just take me out back and shoot me and save us all some trouble. It’s better then letting the nurses try to stick me with needles again ‘cause oh was that FUN with a capital F.

Punkin thinks his mommy is one cruel b&%ch for sleeping in the guest room all week, never playing with him, and taking away his all-access pass to Boobyland (and even if I tried to explain that it was really the mean doctor that took away his all-access pass to Boobyland, and that I didn’t want to keep him up all night with my tossing and turning and stomping in and out of the room each time my tummy gurgled, I don’t think he’d really forgive me. Not really. Especially since it looks like today, when his tummy gurgled, Oh did it feel not so good down there, no sirree. And you know who he can blame for that? Oh yeah, yours truly).

The funny thing about all this (and yeah, there is a funny thing - just one though) is that I don’t really care that I spent my birthday curled in a ball in bed with a 102 fever and drenched in sweat, because you know it wasn’t really my birthday. Nope. As far as I’m concerned my birthday just hasn’t happened yet. Of course, it would have been nice to go to Cirque du Soleil like Veggie had planned ‘cause he’s a freakin awesome husband, but I’m just not going to think about it ‘cause what’s the point?

And I do have to hand it to Veggie for being the World’s Greatest Husband this week (sorry ladies, but he is and he’s not giving up the title any time soon). Not only did he take time off work to take care of me and Punkin, but he also arranged for friends and babysitters to come over when he had to work, changed my sheets when I soaked them with fevered sweat, scrubbed the tub so I could safely soak in it after 4 days of stinking up the house, made me jello and soup broth and dry toast and pedialyte cocktails, woke up in the middle of the night to rub my back and put me in bed after I’d collapsed in a miserable lump on the bathroom floor, and never once complained. Not once.

Being sick can actually be rather freeing. For once I don’t care that the house is a mess, there’s laundry to be done and a fridge full of rotting food. Maybe I should get sick more often.

Or not.

Inflatable Husband

I need a blow up hubby. A backup. Just in case. Don’t take this the wrong way, Veggie, I’m not being morbid. Just practical. Because I’ve realized I’m seriously inept without you. I spent 10 days being a single parent and I’m really really bad at it! But it’s not just that I can’t do it alone. I truly don’t believe anyone else could do what Veggie does - whether it’s soothing Punkin back to sleep at 3am when I’m ready to drop kick them both out of my bed, or insisting on hugging me every day, no matter what, and always remembering. Ok maybe a clone would be better. A blow up doll would be crushed under the weight of Punkin’s 24 lbs. Although he might make a good punching bag when Punkin reaches his hitting and kicking phase...

“Corrupting Veggie”

Veggie got his name as a kid when his school friends got a whiff of his seitan sandwiches with soy cheese and a side of rice balls in the lunch room. Deprived of luxuries like animal fat and bbq’d skin, Veggie’s childhood vegetarianism has made him not only skip the bacon tray at all-you-can-eat breakfast bars, but actually dis-like the unfamiliar texture of fillet mignon and coq au vin.

When I was 10 my mother asked me what I’d like for my birthday dinner. “Pork chops and apple sauce,” I replied.
When I was 11 my mother asked me what I’d like for my birthday dinner. “Pork chops and apple sauce,” I said again.
When I was 12....I think you get the picture. I grew up on steak, game birds, and coq au vin. By the time I hit high school my favorite dish on the menu was fillet mignon with Bearnaise sauce. My mother was (perhaps still is) a baconaholic, and my older brothers were in no way subtle about there distaste for vegetarianism.

Despite our extreme differences in culinary taste, Veggie and I survived the early days of relationship by just not eating. Ha, yeah right. After less than a year of dating, he converted me, and quite willingly in fact, I abandoned game, foul, and cow, and took to eating carrot sticks and edamame. Three years, and many carnivorous cravings later, I came back to the dark side and there I shall stay.

So now it’s his turn.

Last weekend I made him eat New England Boiled Dinner...that’s corned beef brisket with cabbage, carrots, potatoes and beets that is FIVE HOURS in the making. Yeah, you better eat that meat and LIKE IT. Yeah. Ok. Glad we got that out of the way.

For the sake of my culinary sanity, I must have beef in the house! I must roast a turkey for Thanksgiving!! The bacon cannot be abandoned by the BLT!!! I don’t know how to make one, but one day we will eat POT ROAST! Amen.

Oh, and one last thing:
Real men grill steak and eat it.

SAHM goes mental from Vitamin D overload

Can you get too much of it, cause I think maybe I have... Visiting California this fine weekend in February and it is clear and 68 degrees. My brain is melting. I seriously think after what seams like eons of wet, cold, cloudy Seattle days, the sun in California is making me mental. And I’m directing most of my insanity at Veggie. Poor Veggie. What’s my beef with Veggie? It’s one of our old disagreements: my life is much more stressful than his. Sure he’s got loads of responsibility and his boss is slightly insane and they expect him to create something great out of nothing. But you see he can go to the bathroom. WHENEVER HE WANTS. He doesn’t have to feed someone else before he feeds himself. If he decides he needs a 5 minute break...HE TAKES A BREAK. I, on the other hand, have had to master the art of peeing with a wiggly toddler on my lap (yes, somedays that’s just the way it has to happen). I often spend several hours in a blood-sugar-depleted haze trying to get Punkin fed and too drained to find food for myself - cheerio mommy?

I know I know, quit yer bitchin, you get to spend every lovely day watching your little angel grow and learn and (‘scuse me while I make myself yak from sentimental overdose...) No seriously, I’m lucky, and it won’t last forever, but somedays I just really want Veggie to know what it’s like to have a 25 lb gobblin hanging on your every move...

Today Punkin discovered what fun it is to pinch Veggie’s nipples. Ahhhh...there is justice afterall!!