About 6:30 I had three snugglers in my bed and was immediately conflicted--I really, really needed to run to the bathroom, but I also really, really, really needed them to all stay in horizontal positions for at least another hour. I feared getting up and moving lest they follow me and discover their energy for the day.
About 6:40, it was time to risk it. "Stay RIGHT here. I am just going to the bathroom. Nothing interesting will happen. There is nothing you could possibly need to say to me in the next two minutes that you can't wait and tell me in, oh, two minutes. Don't move."
They didn't!
At least not out of the bed. I returned 00:01:48 later to find my mattress perimeter manned--one side by wall and the other three by child. In the moment I contemplated reentry or retreat, Charlie popped up his head and said, "I will move to make woom for you, mi'lady."
What a gentleman. He sits up, I crawl in, he lays back down.
I find myself in the center, stretching out when Charlie voices a pressing complaint. "Dere is a giwl in my stretching-out space." When you share the bed with two sisters and a mommy, that's a real concern.
Thirty more minutes of horizontal peace were afforded to all.
7/28/11
7/27/11
Oops.
Yesterday, I drag the menagerie to the post office with clear directions: no singing, no touching other people, no running, only whisper. Be as quiet as you would in the grown-up portion of the library.
All the children agree to this, but because I did not specify, Charlie brings in his three-foot-long sword composed of foam insulation tubes and duct tape.
Despite instructions ad nauseum about appropriate venues for swordplay and repeated reminders that you only attack someone if they, too, have a sword, the boy child sees fit to, well, go postal.
There's a back-up plan for swords in non-sword places and that is his scabbard, or shoved down the back of his shirt. He wears it this way so frequently that he can put it down the neckhole of his shirt himself and will walk around that way completely unaware of his presence.
I think so little of seeing a hilt behind his head these days that I do not realize it is there until 7/8 of the trip home, when he informs me that, "This sword makes my car seat not so cozy."
No wonder those straps seemed more snug than usual.
All the children agree to this, but because I did not specify, Charlie brings in his three-foot-long sword composed of foam insulation tubes and duct tape.
Despite instructions ad nauseum about appropriate venues for swordplay and repeated reminders that you only attack someone if they, too, have a sword, the boy child sees fit to, well, go postal.
There's a back-up plan for swords in non-sword places and that is his scabbard, or shoved down the back of his shirt. He wears it this way so frequently that he can put it down the neckhole of his shirt himself and will walk around that way completely unaware of his presence.
I think so little of seeing a hilt behind his head these days that I do not realize it is there until 7/8 of the trip home, when he informs me that, "This sword makes my car seat not so cozy."
No wonder those straps seemed more snug than usual.
7/25/11
My Kids Rock
Thursday morning, I woke up with a pending migraine but did not let this distant and dim view of the world keep me from packing up (x4) and heading out of town.
After a brief visit with Daddy at Granny's, the kids went to Oma's for the weekend and I hit the Metroplex with seven of my favorite imaginary friends. (I have a lot of favorite imaginary friends from which to choose, you understand.)
We arrived home this weekend, 1254.8 miles later. All but 91 of them were driven by me, most of them on unfamiliar, heavily-trafficked and construction-plagued roads. The kids were only dragged along for 179.2 of those.
To complicate an already long and complicated trip, I had a funeral to hurry home to. A coworker of mine, a woman I only worked with one school year but already tremendously respected, was laid to rest at 10:00 this morning.
After several days of eating Chuy's and In-and-Out, shopping, playing board games til the wee hours, and throwing in a late-staying visit to my 40-week-pregnant cousin last night, I went to sleep a little after midnight. At 3:30 I awoke and deposited an imaginary friend at Love Field at 4:30 before driving directly to the funeral. Despite leaving my cell phone (and therefore my directions) at the hostessing imaginary friend's house, I arrived only ten minutes late.
I paid my respects, ate lunch with coworkers at one of her favorite spots and dragged a friend back to mom's to pick up the kids. Spent an hour with daddy, got their little gifts of hair clips and Hot Wheels and headed home.
I am so tired. Also, my back did not love this trip.
As we arrived home, the girls sprang to action. While I cleaned out the litter box and made Charlie a sandwich, they brought in every single piece of luggage, bag, pillow and toy from PennyVann, neatly deposited them in the dining room, got jammies on, poured themselves milk, curled up on the couch and turned on Charlie's favorite show for him.
Charlie did come over long enough for this exchange:
Charlie: Why did you buy me da Hot Wheels?
Me: I know you love them. Do you love them?
Charlie: Yes. I do love dem. If you want to, you can buy me Hot Wheels all da time. Anytime you want to buy me a Hot Wheels, I will take a Hot Wheels for you. I can do dat.
Sure thing, kid. Right after this nap.
After a brief visit with Daddy at Granny's, the kids went to Oma's for the weekend and I hit the Metroplex with seven of my favorite imaginary friends. (I have a lot of favorite imaginary friends from which to choose, you understand.)
We arrived home this weekend, 1254.8 miles later. All but 91 of them were driven by me, most of them on unfamiliar, heavily-trafficked and construction-plagued roads. The kids were only dragged along for 179.2 of those.
To complicate an already long and complicated trip, I had a funeral to hurry home to. A coworker of mine, a woman I only worked with one school year but already tremendously respected, was laid to rest at 10:00 this morning.
After several days of eating Chuy's and In-and-Out, shopping, playing board games til the wee hours, and throwing in a late-staying visit to my 40-week-pregnant cousin last night, I went to sleep a little after midnight. At 3:30 I awoke and deposited an imaginary friend at Love Field at 4:30 before driving directly to the funeral. Despite leaving my cell phone (and therefore my directions) at the hostessing imaginary friend's house, I arrived only ten minutes late.
I paid my respects, ate lunch with coworkers at one of her favorite spots and dragged a friend back to mom's to pick up the kids. Spent an hour with daddy, got their little gifts of hair clips and Hot Wheels and headed home.
I am so tired. Also, my back did not love this trip.
As we arrived home, the girls sprang to action. While I cleaned out the litter box and made Charlie a sandwich, they brought in every single piece of luggage, bag, pillow and toy from PennyVann, neatly deposited them in the dining room, got jammies on, poured themselves milk, curled up on the couch and turned on Charlie's favorite show for him.
Charlie did come over long enough for this exchange:
Charlie: Why did you buy me da Hot Wheels?
Me: I know you love them. Do you love them?
Charlie: Yes. I do love dem. If you want to, you can buy me Hot Wheels all da time. Anytime you want to buy me a Hot Wheels, I will take a Hot Wheels for you. I can do dat.
Sure thing, kid. Right after this nap.
7/23/11
Today's News
No job.
At least we know. And Granny needs him now. (Did I tell you she has a collapsed vertebrae now? He took her to urgent care earlier in the week in pain.)
No career, but there is work.
At least we know. And Granny needs him now. (Did I tell you she has a collapsed vertebrae now? He took her to urgent care earlier in the week in pain.)
No career, but there is work.
7/22/11
Remember when I was stuck in California for three days?
I'm hanging out with those friends again, only this time we're in the Great State of Texas so I don't have to hang out at any airports.
not like this trip.
But since I'm one of the people with a car, I get to spend my time picking people up from airports and getting rather lost.
But I have no kids. And I get to tour HQ of woot.com today. And stay up late giggling with friends.
After nine straight days doing the solo parenting thing with the kids, I may try to figure out a way to get stranded in a different part of Texas for three days. Since Dowlan never reads my blog, he won't catch on.
But mom does. Dang . . . *waves*
I'll be picking them up on Monday, as planned.
not like this trip.
But since I'm one of the people with a car, I get to spend my time picking people up from airports and getting rather lost.
But I have no kids. And I get to tour HQ of woot.com today. And stay up late giggling with friends.
After nine straight days doing the solo parenting thing with the kids, I may try to figure out a way to get stranded in a different part of Texas for three days. Since Dowlan never reads my blog, he won't catch on.
But mom does. Dang . . . *waves*
I'll be picking them up on Monday, as planned.
7/21/11
Back with the Daddy again
I've had a solo road trip planned for months, so I brought the kids to my mom's for the weekend. It's the same town Dowlan's been working at and, after nine long days, we are reunited for a bit.
Charlie said, "Now my heart can be happy again."
In further news, Dowlan got an email following up from Monday's job interview. It included a long-form application for the job, which he's got filled out and submitted already.
Ooooh, I want this to work out.
Charlie said, "Now my heart can be happy again."
In further news, Dowlan got an email following up from Monday's job interview. It included a long-form application for the job, which he's got filled out and submitted already.
Ooooh, I want this to work out.
7/20/11
Charlie has lost his GWEEN light sabre from his happy meal
And nothing could be more urgent.
He gave me 100 minutes to look for it before 'dere is an emergency' and is counting backwards. It goes something like this:
One hundred
ninety-nine
eighty-eight
seven-n-seven
seven-n-eight
no, dat is not it.
One hundred
ninety-nine
eighty-eight
NO YOU DO NOT HAVE TIME TO FOLD DA LAUNDRY! IT IS INSIDE AND YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE IT IS!
one hundred . . . .
He gave me 100 minutes to look for it before 'dere is an emergency' and is counting backwards. It goes something like this:
One hundred
ninety-nine
eighty-eight
seven-n-seven
seven-n-eight
no, dat is not it.
One hundred
ninety-nine
eighty-eight
NO YOU DO NOT HAVE TIME TO FOLD DA LAUNDRY! IT IS INSIDE AND YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE IT IS!
one hundred . . . .
7/19/11
A Very Urgent Conversation
While driving home from the library yesterday, I was talking to Dowlan on the phone. This, naturally, meant that Charlie must speak to me about a pressing matter that could only be discussed at that moment, without delay.
Charlie: Mommy, are dere imbisible tigers?
Mommy: I'm talking to Daddy right now, can one of your sisters talk to you about this?
C: Dey do not know about imbisible tigers. I dest need to know if dere are tigers dat are imbisible.
M: Not that I've ever seen.
Back to Daddy, if just for a moment.
C: But are dere imbisible tigers dat you've never seen?
M: If they're there, I haven't seen them. They are invisible.
Back to Daddy.
C: Mommy, do imbisible tigers scratch with dere huge, imbisible claws?
M: No, they only tickle bellybuttons.
C: Do imbisible bite with dere sharp, imbisible teef?
M: No, they do not bite little boys named Charlie. They lick you with their big sloppy tongues and give invisible kisses. You might like that about them, really. All their kisses are invisible, not real.
C: But what if one of dem ate me all up?
M: Well, you'd never know, would you? If one of them swallowed you whole, you'd be in their invisible tummy. But you'd still see around and be able to walk and talk . . . hey, you could be inside an invisible tiger's tummy right now and not even notice.
He ponders this. I talk to Daddy.
C: Mommy, dat is dest too silly. Dere is not an imbisible tiger's tummy dat I am in.
Oh, you may think that. But how would you know???
Charlie: Mommy, are dere imbisible tigers?
Mommy: I'm talking to Daddy right now, can one of your sisters talk to you about this?
C: Dey do not know about imbisible tigers. I dest need to know if dere are tigers dat are imbisible.
M: Not that I've ever seen.
Back to Daddy, if just for a moment.
C: But are dere imbisible tigers dat you've never seen?
M: If they're there, I haven't seen them. They are invisible.
Back to Daddy.
C: Mommy, do imbisible tigers scratch with dere huge, imbisible claws?
M: No, they only tickle bellybuttons.
C: Do imbisible bite with dere sharp, imbisible teef?
M: No, they do not bite little boys named Charlie. They lick you with their big sloppy tongues and give invisible kisses. You might like that about them, really. All their kisses are invisible, not real.
C: But what if one of dem ate me all up?
M: Well, you'd never know, would you? If one of them swallowed you whole, you'd be in their invisible tummy. But you'd still see around and be able to walk and talk . . . hey, you could be inside an invisible tiger's tummy right now and not even notice.
He ponders this. I talk to Daddy.
C: Mommy, dat is dest too silly. Dere is not an imbisible tiger's tummy dat I am in.
Oh, you may think that. But how would you know???
Technology attempted to defeat him
but he got through his interview nonetheless.
For some bizarro reason, his phone went straight to voicemail when they called this morning. He tried calling the number back, but it was not a direct line to anything. There was a helpful recording suggesting check his voicemail but no voicemail was left.
He called back the person he'd spoken with last week to set up the interview. She couldn't get through either, so she did the interview herself.
90% of the way through, his phone battery died.
When he called back he did include something about how you sometimes have to be persistent to get technology to work for you. I'm hoping she bought it.
He'd gone through the job listing the night before, taking notes on how he was qualified to do the things listed. Jotted down what experiences he'd had and how they prepared him for this job. Said he felt it went okay.
She said to check his email over the next few days for the next step.
For some bizarro reason, his phone went straight to voicemail when they called this morning. He tried calling the number back, but it was not a direct line to anything. There was a helpful recording suggesting check his voicemail but no voicemail was left.
He called back the person he'd spoken with last week to set up the interview. She couldn't get through either, so she did the interview herself.
90% of the way through, his phone battery died.
When he called back he did include something about how you sometimes have to be persistent to get technology to work for you. I'm hoping she bought it.
He'd gone through the job listing the night before, taking notes on how he was qualified to do the things listed. Jotted down what experiences he'd had and how they prepared him for this job. Said he felt it went okay.
She said to check his email over the next few days for the next step.
7/18/11
finger-crossing time, again
I keep staring at a wall, thinking that I don't know what I'm going to do if this one doesn't work out either, but I do. I'll keep going. It's what I do.
He has another job interview in the morning--a phone interview at 8 a.m. for a job that would be an excellent fit for his skills and areas of interest.
It's a job involving lab work, which would finally put that engineering physics degree to use. It would tweak his inner geek. It's not exclusively lab work, which means he'll still get to interact with other human beings and perhaps witness the sun shining from time to time.
It's a solid starting salary for this area, which would mean we can once again put money into savings, get (back) out of debt and focus on retirement. It would mean gymnastics and ballet lessons, co-pays and therapies. It would mean affording gluten-free again. It would mean my stomach could stop hurting and I could sleep at night.
It's nearby, which means he could come home again. It's 158 hours since he left and, as Charlie put it, "How can we be Team Smif if we're not all togedder?"
But it's a phone interview, which is not in his favor. As much as he struggles to present himself as the intelligent and competent human being in person, he is at an even greater disadvantage over the phone. It's not his strong suit.
They're looking for long-term and committed? He's their guy.
They're looking for a scientific thinker with acute attention to detail? He's their guy.
They're looking for someone dedicated and friendly to work with vendors? He's their guy.
He's their guy.
He's their guy.
He's their guy.
He has another job interview in the morning--a phone interview at 8 a.m. for a job that would be an excellent fit for his skills and areas of interest.
It's a job involving lab work, which would finally put that engineering physics degree to use. It would tweak his inner geek. It's not exclusively lab work, which means he'll still get to interact with other human beings and perhaps witness the sun shining from time to time.
It's a solid starting salary for this area, which would mean we can once again put money into savings, get (back) out of debt and focus on retirement. It would mean gymnastics and ballet lessons, co-pays and therapies. It would mean affording gluten-free again. It would mean my stomach could stop hurting and I could sleep at night.
It's nearby, which means he could come home again. It's 158 hours since he left and, as Charlie put it, "How can we be Team Smif if we're not all togedder?"
But it's a phone interview, which is not in his favor. As much as he struggles to present himself as the intelligent and competent human being in person, he is at an even greater disadvantage over the phone. It's not his strong suit.
They're looking for long-term and committed? He's their guy.
They're looking for a scientific thinker with acute attention to detail? He's their guy.
They're looking for someone dedicated and friendly to work with vendors? He's their guy.
He's their guy.
He's their guy.
He's their guy.
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