Thursday, May 8, 2014

More Like This

Every day is different, and that's a blessing. I sure hope no one thought my last post is what an average day is like around here. To be sure, there are good days, too. Not every day is a whirlwind, most days are more like this...

It's seven in the morning and someone is stirring. It sure isn't me. This still qualifies as the middle of the night, by my standards. Are those little feet padding around? What's that noise? It must be the battery powered mini-quad that I brought inside to recharge last night. At least, I hope it is that, and not an appliance. Please don't let that be the blender.Whatever it is, it has got to be better than the morning I found a dozen eggs smashed in an empty laundry basket. Yup, see, this day is already off to a good start if the eggs are still intact.

At 7:05 a.m. he is bringing me a book in bed. My shift has begun.

 Little Mister nibbling on a waffle while I try to actually pour my first cup of coffee. I'm also folding bath towels and sorting through a bag of hand-me-down clothing from a lady at church. To be honest, I don't have a lot of luck with hand-me-downs, but this bag is a winner. There's a nearly new winter coat that Little Mister should fit into by next year, a pair of barely worn boots, and several tops and bottoms. Even a four piece suit set with the tags still attached to it. Wow!

The Mister should be arriving home from work soon. He works the night shift at a hospital three days a week. It's an unhurried morning because Little Mister does not have therapy today. It's nice not to rush to get the house in order before a therapist arrives. I'm checking my e-mail quickly, and trying to plan our day.

Also, I've been proof-reading a manuscript for a friend who is writing a memoir, and I send her a quick pm to let her know I'm definitely reading it and taking notes. There are also a couple e-mails regarding Little Mister's therapy program, one of which is about his upcoming annual review which will consist of several meetings and an astounding number of people. I feel like we need parking arrangements and a hall rental, and maybe goody bags. It's overwhelming to think about right now.

By mid-morning The Mister is home and I am trying to get Little Mister dressed in pants and a shirt. It is not going well. When will society recognize the plight of clothing-resistant toddlers and the moms who love them? We need an awareness campaign. There is much fussing. Dad is getting involved.

Another pressing concern: There is no interest in the hummingbird feeder I set out last night. I wonder if I did it right? I'm not much of a birder and this is my first attempt at attracting hummingbirds.

 We're on the road and driving behind a VW Jetta that has strong convictions about doing the speed limit, which fluctuates between 35 and 55, due to the presence of a state park. It's an exercise in patience, if not good exercise for the brakes. We're on the way to the local Humane Society to donate some paper towels and dish detergent. These are all things I get for almost free these days, and we have far more than we need, so I'm thrilled that animal shelters can use these items. I wonder if they take laundry detergent? I get a lot of free laundry soap, also.
Someone is having a blast pointing out tractors, animals and huge irrigation structures. It's a nice day and a lot of field work is happening today.

Someone is asleep. I make the drop off to a thankful shelter volunteer. Oh, and they take laundry detergent, too. I also need to find a local food pantry to work with, as I often come across free food items that someone could use.

At the farmer's market, I only have a little bit of cash and forgot to bring along the glass milk jug that I return for deposit for organic milk. My planning for this errand wasn't great. We'll just grab a few things and go, so it's still not a waste. The lunch crowd isn't here yet, so it's easy to get around with the stroller and there are no lines for anything. We're getting hungry. The man selling pickles asks if the Little Mister likes pickles and offers a pickle. Yes, and he also likes cheese, bread, and all kinds of salads. I wish someone would offer a sandwich.

Fuss attack in the parking lot. Here, have a doughnut. Poor lunch planning on my part.

It's early afternoon and a beautiful day. I'm negotiating to get Little Mister into the backyard for some outdoor playtime. I wonder if I should weed some of the garden today? The berry patch is a mess. The strawberries have flowers, and I'm betting on a lot of strawberries this year. Daunted by the weedy mess, I opt to put in a load of laundry.

Little Mister is having fun on his slide and is blowing raspberries at me. He indicates that he wants to to go for a walk in the back field where we can hear construction being done on an engine repair business not far from our house. Little Mister loves the sounds, and ultimately can't resist heading in that direction. Especially when he spots an excavator at the construction site.

 Visitor at the hummingbird feeder!


By late afternoon I need to think about getting back into the house. Whatever became of that laundry I put in? I also need to wake The Mister soon, as he has an appointment before supper.

The Mister and I are sorting through the mail. There's a huge tantrum happening, but it doesn't last long. A new book catalog has arrived, and even though I don't have much time for reading these days, I like to see what's new. I'm enjoying some iced coffee while looking through the catalog.

As The Mister is getting ready to leave for his appointment, I'm starting to prepare our meal. I know the little one will be hungry soon. Right now he's snacking on yogurt while I get ready to cook some fish. We have enough leftovers for sides, so it's an easy supper. I'm hungry but our youngest diner has just eaten one bite off of my plate and picked a few chickpeas out of his salad.

 Looks like dessert is going okay.

After our meal, The Mister begins the bath routine while I start washing dishes and cleaning the kitchen.

Our son has some pretty heavy sleep issues, and it can take anywhere from ten minutes to even as much as four hours to get him to bed. This is shaping up to be a tough night. We read some of his favorites, Good Night Construction Site, Corduroy, and some Little Golden Books.

Twelve hours after waking up, I'm cleaning the kitchen while The Mister and I switch off childcare/sleep routine duties. "Supper: The Sequel" is now playing at the table, and leftovers are being served.

8:16 p.m. Sunset

9:00 I'm finally folding that load of laundry I did almost nine hours ago.

10:00 Now I can finally get cleaned up. It's time for my hot shower, or as The Mister calls it, my "boiling".

11:10 It feels like I've been trying to go somewhere all day, but where? Oh, right here! Tucked in to my cozy, soft bed. It's like a cloud resting on a marshmallow, if marshmallows were made of feathers.

It wasn't an exciting day, it was just moderately productive, and not very memorable. But the next time the whirlwind flies through our house, I'll remark that we could stand to have a day that is more like this.

As an aside, let me express my regret for not accompanying this post with a lot of riveting photographs. I envy people who have posts full of cute pictures of themselves baking in the kitchen and reading to their children. How do they do it? Camera crew? Walking tripod? Sorcery? I want to know. Since I take all of my own pictures, I'm never in any of them. It's hard to believe that no one is following me with a camera, but my guess is 99% of you can identify with that.


  1. Oh, I love your story-telling! I felt as though I were walking right alongside you through your day's journey. I loved the last picture. :)

    1. Thank you Renee, that's really sweet. I was just trying to give some balance and perspective for all the trying days that happen around here. It actually seemed like a monotonous day to write about, but I'm so glad you could join me on it.

    2. Thanks for the stroll. :)

  2. Right. If we go by the photos of when the children are little, it looks like David was the sole parent. We know that isn't true! I had to say, "David, will you take a picture of us?" His heart was not often into it, and so many of them suck the radish, and I don't want anyone seeing them anyway.

    Love your blog. You "paint" good photos with your words... what do you need photos for?

    Many Blessings to you and the two Misters.

    1. That makes me laugh and I'm glad it's not just me! My husband takes awful pictures, and if it weren't for our family pictures that are taken once a year, I would seem to be completely undocumented. By the way, I need to work "suck the radish" into a conversation. Seems you can paint a picture with words too, Saloma.


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