Tippy Toes and Tantrums

Paint and More Paint

Having still not recovered from all of the work we did last weekend, I am not exactly looking forward to this weekend, which is too bad because it is here. I wish I could say everything will be finished tomorrow, but there is no way things will be wrapped up by then. Last weekend I kept asking myself why I decided to paint the kitchen cabinets, but then a few were finished and the improvement was drastic, making the work worth it. Or at least I know I'll feel that way when I am finished and a lot of time has passed. I forgot to take a proper before picture, but I took one last night of the remaining unpainted cabinets to remind myself of the ugliness. All of the cabinets used to look like this:

Now some look like this:

I want to take Sunday off, but I don't think I will reach my weekend goal by tomorrow afternoon, which is to have all of the cabinets done, minus the drawers. We have a birthday party tomorrow afternoon, cutting short my work day and most likely putting my goal out of reach. I had planned to work on the doors tonight to make up for that, but like most women in my demographic, I'm going out for drinks and to see Sex in and the City. (Clearly I am a big fan as I cannot even figure out the name.) That will probably cut into my workday morning, but oh well. At this rate, I may not get anything done this weekend.

Seven Years + One Day

Time flies when you are having kids.

We didn't really get a chance to enjoy our anniversary as we were busy working around the house all weekend. Kevin demolished a very old shed and its contents, while I painted the kitchen cabinets (I don't even think I made it to the half-way point, but it looks so much better already). We spent yesterday afternoon working on the garage (more demolition there). Definitely not as nice as the anniversary we spent in St. Helena, but it was still fun being together without the kids, who were in the house running my sister ragged.

Kevin and I are a team; I can always count on him to be there and support me however I need it. I hope he feels the same way about me, but many times I don't think I am as amazing as a spouse as he. He jokes that in my eulogy (apparently in his mind I am going to die first and he is going to be unaffected enough to speak at the funeral), he is going to extol my patience and everyone there will share a good laugh because I am notoriously impatient. Kevin is patient, quiet and smart along with many other things that I am not. We are a lot alike too ("we share a dislike of people" which is something he said to me when we were dating - who can't build a lifetime together on that?), and somehow it works well.

I cannot imagine my life without Kevin.

(The flowers were in a bucket at the Farmer's Market earlier this month. Throw some ribbon around the stems and you have my wedding bouquet. I bought a small bunch this weekend as a reminder of the best decision I ever made - a Lily of the Valley-only bouquet! Just kidding Kevin.)

In My Leisure Time

When I picked up Rocket to carry him kicking and screaming out of Clover's classroom, it was obvious he needed a diaper change. With poor Rocket I have become the mother who changes my kid in the back of my car. I never would have done anything so gauche with Clover, but having a second kid really lowered my standards which means Rocket gets changed quite a bit in the "way back" of the car.

What happened next was a blur, but somehow poop ended up all over two diapers, the driver's seat and Rocket's shirt. If that wasn't enough, he dumped Diet Coke on my seat too. I didn't even realize there was an open soda can in the car until the pouring began.

I only had a single spare diaper with me and it was no longer functional thanks to poop covering the outside of it, leaving me with one option - driving Rocket home without a diaper. We live about 20 minutes from school, so I quickly covered my seat with a sweatshirt and drove while repeating "no pee pee, no pee pee, no pee pee..." He made it home perfectly dry, making me optimistic about starting to potty train, but when I put him on the potty while I searched for a new diaper, he cried while freezing his body in an awkward position, as if I has laid him next to a sleeping lion. "I'll give you M&Ms when you pee pee in the potty. You like candy, right? Just start using the potty." I didn't use candy as a reward for Clover, but again, second child, lower standards.

After he was settled, I gave him something to eat, which he shoved in his mouth and then tried to talk. He couldn't speak because his mouth was stuffed full, then he inhaled, swallowed, choked, gaged and threw up all in one seamless motion. It happened so fast my only response was "oh..." It was over before I could finish with "...no."

All of this happened before 10 a.m.

During the entire ordeal - just like any other time when I am dealing with such extreme kid craziness - I immediately think of the people I know, mostly in my husband's family, who seem to believe that I am sitting home with my feet up watching soap operas all day. Because I don't work, right?

Wine and Whine

The weekend felt remarkably unproductive. I helped put on a dinner with some other moms from Clover's class - it was the item our class entered into the school auction in March. By the end of the night we pretty much unanimously wished we would have done a simple basket of children's books and walked away. The big activity for Sunday was getting a mammoth sized, unworking rototiller down from the top our our hill to the street level. It involved a lot of sweat and swearing, but Kevin and I somehow made it happen. I felt like I was participating in one of those strong man competitions on an alternative ESPN station where some foreign guy in a singlet pulls a bus with a rope.

Now let's just hope the freecycle guy is able to pick it up this week. Or that the thing gets stolen. Either one would be proof that God exists.

All of our work is in preparation for Dumpster Weekend! I don't have a date, but we are going to get a dumpster and tear out all of the crappy, water damaged shelves in our garage and the abandoned shed on the top of our hill. It is embarrassing to admit how excited I am about a dumpster. The real lesson here is that when doing a final walk through of a new home, really investigate every inch of the property. The previous owners tried to claim the shed was not theirs, it just conveniently lived on their property. We let it go, as the housing market was insane and we were lucky to have beaten out the other potential buyers. In retrospect, I would have made them demolish and remove the shed. In our first house, the attic was left full of empty boxes, which was just weird, but easier to remove than old - really old - and heavy garden equipment.

Too Hot for Typepad

Typepad ate my post. Maybe Typepad is suffering too from the extreme heat that is making Rocket's head sweat a ridiculous amount, making Clover whine a lot and making me a wee bit short tempered. On this note, I am going to end the week with two pictures I had forgotten about, but found on my pocket camera when I last uploaded.

When Clover and Kevin left on a hike, they spotted this car in the lot and it drove Kevin crazy trying to figure out if the car rolled back (but if so, what stopped it there) or if the driver is just a jackass parker.

From a store in San Francisco. There's cheaper and then there is cheaper.

Banging Heads Over Bangs

It started about a month ago when my daughter's bangs needed to be trimmed, which I do about every six weeks. I happened to see a picture with a group of girls my daughter's age and noticed none of them had bangs, which got me to start looking around and I found that not many little girls seem to have bangs anymore. How did I miss the trend? Are bangs the new mullet?

Clover's bangs grew long enough to hang in front of her eyes as I mulled over what to do. I asked my friends why their daughters did not have bangs and most answered that it was an upkeep issue - either they couldn't keep them short enough or they feared cutting the hair at a disastrously embarrassing angle. Some delicately said that while bangs work for Clover, they don't like the look in general. Clover wanted to keep her bangs, yet she hates standing still long enough for me to trim them and this is also a girl who regularly wears clashing outfits of plaid and stripes, so I don't know how much weight I should give her opinion. Yes, it is her hair, but if I have the power to stop her from making a faux pas, shouldn't I exercise it?

Letting Clover's bangs grow presents two problems: Clover hates to wear her hair up, so at least the bangs prevent her hair from getting in her eyes; and her hair is like mine, which is very straight and naturally parting in the middle. The straight hair parted down the middle look peaked in the early 1970s, not that it would matter because my daughter could end up looking more like Cousin Itt if she continued to refuse putting her hair back.

I decided to let them grow out, but that I wouldn't say anything about them and with that, Clover has not complained once about her bangs growing more and more into her field of vision, giving her an English Sheepdog look. Then the hot weather hit last week, Clover was suddenly open to having her hair braided, which seemed to highlight her long bangs. I watched her wipe them to the side as they clung to her sweaty forehead and it was then that I decided to let her keep the bangs. Her happiness and comfort matter more than whether bangs are in or out of style. I told her the good news. She was right and I would trim her bangs so they looked like bangs once again. "What?" she responded. "I like them like this!"

The shaggy bangs remain and she refuses to wear a headband to hold them back. The experience is no longer about bangs, but more about the push and pull, back and forth, give and take that mark mother-daughter relationships. I'm sure this is only the first of many instances where we will disagree on something and I will change my mind, only to discover we still disagree.

Woo Wii!

By Mother's Day, I was aching. My arms hurt a lot, but I had an around muscle ache so it was hard to pinpoint the worst spot.

"The Wii Fit is really amazing, I hurt all over," I said to Kevin. He gently pointed out that the muscle pain was most likely due to painting the kitchen walls and gardening on Saturday instead of my brief testing of the Wii Fit in between sangria and margaritas at Stefania's house Friday night. "Well, I went into Saturday already a little sore, so I think it contributed." I can't remember if he sighed or snorted, but he got his point across.

Kevin bought a Wii  - or The Woo! as my mom calls it - over a year ago after weeks of convincing me it would be okay. I'm not a big fan of kids and video games, which made me very wary of allowing one in the house because surely soon after stepping out on the slippery slope, I'd be buying little Rocket his first PSP to keep him quiet in the crib, right? Kevin's made good on his promise, which is that he'd play at night and hide it so the kids never saw it, leaving Clover and Rocket literally in the dark.

With this history, I don't know if Kevin was surprised when I walked in the door Friday night and said we should buy one, but he definitely liked the idea. I went to pre-order it on Wednesday and it was already pre-sold out on Amazon, so now I have to wait, which I would have anyway as it won't be released until next week. But it still sucks because I was already excited to use the Wii Fit on the nights I don't go to the gym, which is a whopping five nights a week at home. Hopefully my interest doesn't wain by the time I get it, much like Kevin's plan to get exercise by doing Dance, Dance Revolution regularly (unless by regularly he meant twice).

At the party, the Wii Girls (which is probably not their official name, but they were all young and tiny, so it fits) asked if any of us wanted to find out our BMI because the balance board doubles as a scale. This is the fastest way to silence a roomful of 30-somethings. I held my breath as I hoped to go unnoticed, but then I decided to volunteer Bonnie because she is as tiny as the Wii Girls. Bonnie, being the bravest one there, did the BMI and the first exercise, which got us all moving. The games were fun. Even in three minute intervals I could feel the burn despite my rigorous two nights a week workout schedule at the gym. I kick ass in my aqua aerobics class and I don't think it has anything to do with the fact that I'm 20 years younger than my classmates. I am awesome, plain and simple. I can see it on the faces of my classmates when they stare at me with what I can only assume are looks of awe.

Mother's Day Surprises

The scene was finally set: Kevin took Rocket out early to get lunch for us and even though Clover stayed behind, she was busy reading and left me alone to finally read the Sunday Times in total peace, which feels like my lifetime dream. I had my feet up on the couch as I jumped into the front section when the pounding started. Our dog Maddie was asleep in the sun on the front deck and she sat up, looked annoyed and walked back in the house. The pounding got worse, it went from a regular hammer sound to a hammer hitting a crowbar, making my head shake from the metal on metal noise. Let's just say my quiet time was over. I had written more, but a friend pointed out the obvious, which is that maybe expanding on it wasn't the smartest thing to do, so I will just end it here. It was a noise, from outside, that eventually ended. That is all.

My Mother's Day gift was the promise of an iPhone when the second generation ones are released next month. I'm excited, but I didn't go crazy like someone called down on the Price is Right, which is what Kevin expected. When he asked why, I tried to explain that promises don't always come true as was proven by my last Mother's Day gift. He said he didn't remember what he gave me last year, so I filled him in. "You promised to paint both bathrooms." He looked totally, absolutely surprised "I did? Oh huh?!" as he chuckled. Of course, neither bathroom was been painted. Therefore I am not going to get excited about the iPhone until I have it in my hands.

The unexpected gift that makes me want to jump for joy is that Clover approached me and very seriously asked if it was okay if she goes back to taking afternoon "restes." She laid out her arguments because she thought she had to convince me. "Rocket looks up to me and maybe if he sees me resting, he'll want to take his nap. And also I get tired in the afternoons." I calmly said that of course she can rest and it sounds like a very well thought out, smart thing to do. On the inside, I was doing back flips and screaming OH MY GOD! OH MY GAWWWWD! Both kids napping at once? This may be the best gift ever!

My Freecyclers

Recently offered on my freecycle group: "black man's vest." I read the body of the email to see what made it a vest for a black man, but it gave no further details.

Items recently requested (by different people) on freecycle:

iPod Nano;
Mac computer no more than three years old.

I was tempted to post WANTED: BMW, in excellent condition, no more than six months old, because what the hell?

If I Weren't a Mother, I'd be Mother Teresa

In a surprise, not-my-Mother's-Day-gift, Kevin took yesterday off, giving me some time to spend as I'd like. Sadly much of the day was spent doing errands or other chores I'd put off, but it was nice getting things done and not having two short people whine and cry while clinging to my legs. I ran around to a couple of stores in the morning, which initially felt like such a waste of my precious free time, but it was so nice to go grocery shopping without kids. I chatted with all the salespeople, was overly polite with other customers and at Whole Foods when a woman accidentally bumped some bell peppers off the display, then quickly walked away as if she were trying to flee a crime, I went over and put the bell peppers back. It turns out I am a much nicer person without my kids.

I have a few friends who swore they'd go back to work once their youngest was in school every day and now I understand why they are dragging their feet even though their kids are all in school. Being without kids is amazing, especially during the morning when everyone else's kids are in school too and the stores are relatively quiet.

Kevin's "Happy Spring!" day included the best ever cupcakes that I ate while I listened to podcasts, ordered an unreasonable amount of fabric and had an all around good day. I can't wait to see what is in store for Mother's Day.