Subtitle: The Disjointed Ramblings of a Situational Single Parent
At the end of this unbelievably long day which started at 6am and is just now winding down, I am filled with many thoughts and so, because I am too exhausted to put the sheets on my bed so that I can actually go to sleep, I am sitting on my rear-end typing a basically pointless, kind of whiny blog post until I can muster the energy to move more than my fingers and get myself to bed already. Doesn't that introduction just suck you in and leave you breathless with anticipation for the literary genius which must be forthcoming? Well, read on friends and strangers, read on. Don't blame me if you are disappointed, though.
The last 2 days have been challenging. Intrepid Spouseman is off learning new and exciting ways to stay alive in the increasingly hostile world at large (despite what you may think, that was typed without even a hint of sarcasm. He really is off learning myriad and sundry survival techniques. That's why it's called survival training.). While he will be gone for a mere 21 days, I am finding his absence to be slightly more challenging than when he left for almost 5 months to play GI Joe. In addition to the fact that this time we do not get to communicate with Intrepid Spouseman at all while he is away, Little Levi is much more mobile and demanding of my attention and he is obviously missing his very best friend in the whole world. You see, most days, Levi wakes up and immediately visits with Isaac in the bathroom while Isaac gets ready for work. Then, they play during lunch time. And again after dinner and again after his bath until bedtime. Well, today little Levi toddled over to the bathroom door as usual and, finding it closed, proceeded to bang and yell. As you can imagine, when this failed to produce "DA!!!!!!!!!!" poor Levi was not happy. Not happy at all (neither was I, for that matter.Sad face.). Repeat this scenario several times during the day (waking from naps and peering expectantly around corners for DA!, running to the door at the sound of a car etc...) and you have the perfect recipe for a sad and confused little toddler. Poor little Bug. It seems that my normally good natured baby is handling his distress by becoming fussy, clingy and demanding. Which does not surprise me, but does make it very difficult to get my work done. And done it must get because I have major, immoveable deadlines this week. Because of work issues (at both the full time day job and the part-time adjunct job) and Levi issues today, I often felt as though everything was just inches away from complete disaster. Hence, the exhaustion. But we made it work, Little Levi and I. We worked a little, played a little, napped a little (well, those under the age of 2 napped), rinsed and repeated until everything got done. We took a break to have dinner with a friend (whose husband is also away being trained in the intricacies of survival. Thanks for rescuing my carrots and celery, A! ) and tomorrow I'm packing for a mini-vacation to visit another friend (I am so excited. Seriously. I have been looking forward to this for months! Months, I say!). All is well, even if all is a little chaotic. We are tired, but we survived. Isaac says everyone who finishes SERE should get a tee-shirt that says "I Survived SERE" (haha! Surviving survival training! Hmm...Now that I think about it, that might be a joke that is only funny to military people...or maybe only to me...wouldn't be the first time.). and I'm beginning to think that spouses and children should get them too. We'll see how the next few weeks go, but for now I'm off to cross another day off the calendar before I go to bed. Only 19 days to go.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
I apologize in advance for the extremely rant-y nature of this post
I have a lot to say these days, but very little motivation to actually, well, say any of it. Mostly I compose extremely rant-y blog posts in my head, take a deep breath and then move on with my life. But today, since the Spouse is still at work, Little Man is happily playing with an empty container of oats (What? You don't give your kid trash to play with? What's wrong with you?) and a wooden spoon (Ditto above but with kitchen implements) and the laundry is (mostly) done, I thought "What the heck? Let's rant in public for a bit, shall we" and so, we shall.
Rant #1: I am just so unendingly tired of people talking about the NBA "labor" dispute. Does anyone, anywhere care even the slightest little bit that a whole bunch of multi-millionaires are not getting their "fair" share from a bunch of multi-billionaires? No? Then let's move on, news media. There are starving children in Africa. Heck, there are starving children in Iowa. Let the poor little rich kids handle their playground dispute in private. MOVE ON.
Rant #2: I love the People of the South. Really, I do. I love that they are friendly and funny and, mostly, not scary. But, BUT, can I just say that I do not love it when People of the South touch Levi? I have to bite lips and sit on hands to stop myself from swatting people. Seriously. I get that he's pretty much the most adorable little person ever. I know that he's extremely social and will chat with you in his little baby voice and reach out his little hand as if to invite touching but PLEASE, dear People of the South, do not share your germs with my baby. I may have to make a little shirt that says "NO TOUCHY" and only let him out of the house when he wears it.
Rant #3: The ice cream currently sold by several major manufacturers is no longer ice cream, but is instead a mysterious concotion they are calling "Frozen Dairy Dessert". I am just so disappointed. I recognize that the reason for the name change is because their "ice cream", in reality, contains little or no cream and how sad is that? I say that it is indicative of pretty much everything that's wrong with industrialized food production in this country. That's right people. The lack of cream in our ice cream is merely a symptom of a larger problem and you can just take that to the park and protest it. Furthermore, I'd just like to go on record and say that I'd happily pay more to have some cream in my ice cream. I'm pretty sure most people would. I look forward to pumpkin pie ice cream all year but now that I've made this unfortunate discovery, I can't bring myself to purchase and consume Pumpkin Frozen Dairy Dessert. There are, I know, several brands of ice cream that are actually ice cream and/or I could, theoretically, make my own but 1. None of the true ice creams have a pumpkin flavor and 2. I am super lazy. Sad panda. (side note: in the grand scheme of things-like starving children in Iowa-I realize that this is a small problem, but this is my party and I'll rant if I want to)
Rant #4: Could some please explain to me the laws of the universe that have dictated that no matter how carefully I set the timer and no matter how watchful I am over them, I inevitably burn at least 1 tray of cookies each and everytime I bake cookies? There has to be some sort of rule that I am breaking or some sort of universal vendetta against my cookie making. Perhaps both? Help me out here, surely this is not just me? Is there some sort of support group? Remedial cookie baking education? Something?
Rant #5: I would like to find the person who decided landscaping with rocks was a good idea and beat him (of course it was a him) with a few rocks of my own. This past weekend, in a haze of joy at having my "own" yard (which is really not mine at all, but is instead owned by a rather large and mysterious government contractor and which is technically shared between myself and the residents of the other half of the twin home in which I currently reside but which I call my "own" because, really, typing out what it actually is everytime is time consuming and disheartening), I purchased, with the intent to plant, many bulbs. Many, many bulbs. There were tulips and irises and fresias OH MY!
I thought (silly me) that this would be a simple process-clear pine needle mulch (ick), dig holes, plant bulbs, water and trust the fates of the universe. But, alas. This plan hit a snafu when, upon moving the pine needle mulch, it was discovered that some idiot, erm, person, had previously filled the entire flower bed with decorative rock. Let me reiterate: someone, somewhere had filled a flower bed with ROCKS. Then, someone else decided it would be a good idea to completely cover those rocks with PINE NEEDLES. I'll just let you mull that one over for a bit.........................................................................................................
Anyway. After sitting about the house sighing deeply and morosely lamenting my fate, the intrepid husband devised a plan whereby the rocks would be moved and the bulbs planted. This plan involved the husband moving buckets full of rocks to the backyard flowerbeds, which are so overrun with rocks (EVIL DECORATIVE ROCKS) and weeds that even I don't want to try and do anything with them, while I scraped the rocks out of the dirt so as to fill his buckets and loudly cursed the person who thought rocks and gardens were a good match. Eventually, most of the rocks were gone, all the bulbs were planted and Levi had only eaten a little dirt. But STILL. Rocks. Pine Needles. For the love.
And that is all. Carry on.
Rant #1: I am just so unendingly tired of people talking about the NBA "labor" dispute. Does anyone, anywhere care even the slightest little bit that a whole bunch of multi-millionaires are not getting their "fair" share from a bunch of multi-billionaires? No? Then let's move on, news media. There are starving children in Africa. Heck, there are starving children in Iowa. Let the poor little rich kids handle their playground dispute in private. MOVE ON.
Rant #2: I love the People of the South. Really, I do. I love that they are friendly and funny and, mostly, not scary. But, BUT, can I just say that I do not love it when People of the South touch Levi? I have to bite lips and sit on hands to stop myself from swatting people. Seriously. I get that he's pretty much the most adorable little person ever. I know that he's extremely social and will chat with you in his little baby voice and reach out his little hand as if to invite touching but PLEASE, dear People of the South, do not share your germs with my baby. I may have to make a little shirt that says "NO TOUCHY" and only let him out of the house when he wears it.
Rant #3: The ice cream currently sold by several major manufacturers is no longer ice cream, but is instead a mysterious concotion they are calling "Frozen Dairy Dessert". I am just so disappointed. I recognize that the reason for the name change is because their "ice cream", in reality, contains little or no cream and how sad is that? I say that it is indicative of pretty much everything that's wrong with industrialized food production in this country. That's right people. The lack of cream in our ice cream is merely a symptom of a larger problem and you can just take that to the park and protest it. Furthermore, I'd just like to go on record and say that I'd happily pay more to have some cream in my ice cream. I'm pretty sure most people would. I look forward to pumpkin pie ice cream all year but now that I've made this unfortunate discovery, I can't bring myself to purchase and consume Pumpkin Frozen Dairy Dessert. There are, I know, several brands of ice cream that are actually ice cream and/or I could, theoretically, make my own but 1. None of the true ice creams have a pumpkin flavor and 2. I am super lazy. Sad panda. (side note: in the grand scheme of things-like starving children in Iowa-I realize that this is a small problem, but this is my party and I'll rant if I want to)
Rant #4: Could some please explain to me the laws of the universe that have dictated that no matter how carefully I set the timer and no matter how watchful I am over them, I inevitably burn at least 1 tray of cookies each and everytime I bake cookies? There has to be some sort of rule that I am breaking or some sort of universal vendetta against my cookie making. Perhaps both? Help me out here, surely this is not just me? Is there some sort of support group? Remedial cookie baking education? Something?
Rant #5: I would like to find the person who decided landscaping with rocks was a good idea and beat him (of course it was a him) with a few rocks of my own. This past weekend, in a haze of joy at having my "own" yard (which is really not mine at all, but is instead owned by a rather large and mysterious government contractor and which is technically shared between myself and the residents of the other half of the twin home in which I currently reside but which I call my "own" because, really, typing out what it actually is everytime is time consuming and disheartening), I purchased, with the intent to plant, many bulbs. Many, many bulbs. There were tulips and irises and fresias OH MY!
I thought (silly me) that this would be a simple process-clear pine needle mulch (ick), dig holes, plant bulbs, water and trust the fates of the universe. But, alas. This plan hit a snafu when, upon moving the pine needle mulch, it was discovered that some idiot, erm, person, had previously filled the entire flower bed with decorative rock. Let me reiterate: someone, somewhere had filled a flower bed with ROCKS. Then, someone else decided it would be a good idea to completely cover those rocks with PINE NEEDLES. I'll just let you mull that one over for a bit.........................................................................................................
Anyway. After sitting about the house sighing deeply and morosely lamenting my fate, the intrepid husband devised a plan whereby the rocks would be moved and the bulbs planted. This plan involved the husband moving buckets full of rocks to the backyard flowerbeds, which are so overrun with rocks (EVIL DECORATIVE ROCKS) and weeds that even I don't want to try and do anything with them, while I scraped the rocks out of the dirt so as to fill his buckets and loudly cursed the person who thought rocks and gardens were a good match. Eventually, most of the rocks were gone, all the bulbs were planted and Levi had only eaten a little dirt. But STILL. Rocks. Pine Needles. For the love.
And that is all. Carry on.
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