memo

boy oh boy...was i glad to see this weekend. i forgot how much i appreciated friday, until i headed back to a full week of reality. moreover, i'm pretty sure that kids have sixth sense when it comes to certain things. for instance, i started back to work (with students) this week and both of my children decided that after an entire summer of sleeping through the night...that they were going to take turns waking up. every night this week. (every night.) i read somewhere that when there is a shift in routine, like going back to work...your children may start waking up in the middle of the night because they "miss you." um...i miss them too, but do i want to see their faces at 2am? no, sir...i do not. i'd rather be dreaming or rolling over and scratching my ass at that point in the evening. on wednesday night, butch rolled over when he heard carrie crying and just said, "they hate us. our children hate us." i don't think they hate us, but i do believe they think it's awesome to drive us to the point of insanity. they do a fine job of this on a daily (and now nightly) basis. pretty sure they didn't get the memo that i was going to need a full nights rest to deal with working in the real world. also, no matter how much you love your job...working in the real world blows. (big time.) 

monday morning was the first day in 9 weeks i had to wake up my kids and get them both out the door by 6:30am. this is no small feat. this is also the morning that i was juggling 12 bags and spilled coffee down the front of my (white) first day of school dress. instead of cursing and throwing shit around, i just started laughing. (better than crying, i guess.) so after a wardrobe change, i went into ella's room. i rubbed her back until she woke up and she sat up and said (startled), "WHY YOU IN HERE! DET OUT!" (oh my god.) i said (gently), "you have to go to KK's (her sitter) today...so you have to get up." she replied, "NO." okay then. i walked out of the room and into door number two. the chubby baby was also annoyed with my early morning wake up call. if she could talk, i'm quite certain she would've told me to "det out" as well. instead, she crapped her pants. i changed her shitty drawers and went back over to get my three year old teenager wannabe. we got out the door without any other issues, but the both of them were quite salty in the backseat on the way to the sitters.

most of the week went pretty well, minus the middle of the night wake up calls. until we got to thursday. thursday was one hell of a day. i walked in the door after work and ella said, "WHAT'S THAT FELL?!" (smell.) i did, in fact, smell something pretty rank and didn't know where it was coming from. upon inspection, i found a mouse in a trap in our pantry. i screamed like a little girl. i don't care if mice are dead or alive...i hate them. they are dirty little creatures that god should've never created. (yuck.) i slammed the door like the mouse was going to come back to life, get outta the trap, and bite me in the jugular. (it could happen.) later we were sitting in the living room and said, "what is that SMELL!?" butch said, "i don't smell anything." but then he looked around the room and said, "oh my god is that a...." i looked up and sure enough there was an extra large dog turd on the living room floor, among the blocks, a dora doll, and a pony. i jumped off the couch and said, "WHAT IS GOING ON AROUND HERE?!" our dog never (ever) craps in the house, so maybe she also has a sixth sense and wanted to shake up our week as well? (who knows.) after cleaning up the poop, i was folding laundry and carrie decided it was really funny to walk around with a pair of my underwear on her head. i mean, she was cracking up...and so was ella. butch was just shaking his head and i had no words. here's a visual:

later that night we were getting ready to put the kids to bed and i said, "where is carrie's blankey?" we couldn't find it anywhere and then realized that he had left it at the sitter's house. (rats!) now if you have children, you know the importance of a lovey. ella has one blanket that she is attached to, and so does carrie. we thought we could fool her and give her a similar one...i tried three different blankets and she acted like all three were soaked in poison. she threw them at me and screamed bloody murder from her crib. she would not go to sleep without that lovey. butch then had to drive over to the sitters to get the blankey...just as fen blew in the door for a glass of wine. ella was in bed already and carrie was acting really clingy and crabby. after a week of working with a fresh batch of five year olds...i was whipped. i seriously felt like i was in a coma and just going through the motions. fen thought this was hilarious. she proceeded to make fun of the fact that i could barely function due to going back to work. i did not find this hilarious and wanted to assault her with my box of wine. (eff you fen.) so this was the close of thursday...like i said, one hell of a day.

i will say that other than the fact of feeling like i'm walking around half alive, it is good to be a productive member of society again. luckily, i have an awesome bunch of kids in my class this year...not alotta knuckle heads in the mix. i'm really looking forward to spending my days with them. one of the kids told me that i am the best teacher he ever had. i'd be flattered...but i'm the only teacher he's ever had. (haha!) i'm hoping that as my children adjust to their new routine, they stop periodically waking up to say hello in the middle of the night. of course last night (when we didn't have to wake up at 5:30am), they slept straight through without a peep outta either of them. (of course.) butch is back on the coupon campaign and his new thing is buying and selling things on ebay. (he's obsessed.) one morning i told him his shirt looked a little short and he said, "well i guess i've graduated to an XL then...maybe i should shop at the 'big and tall' store." i nearly spit out my coffee and said, "big and TALL? big? yes. tall? no." he started laughing hysterically...then added that he'd just have to get back on ebay and buy bigger shirts. (great.) not exercise, just get bigger clothes. (awesome.) i am looking forward to a new school year, a new set of shenanigans out of my own children, and everything the fall season has to offer. i'm also looking forward to sleeping through the night again...so someone please give my children the memo.

gasoline

there are some days that i wish that there was a video camera set up in my house, because sometimes there are just no words to describe the level of ridiculousness that goes on. (yesterday was one of those days.) now let me begin by saying that my husband is not a very "handy"man. he doesn't build stuff, he doesn't hunt stuff, he doesn't fix stuff often, he doesn't use a hammer...he's just not handy. (nor does he have common sense when it comes to these types of things.) he played football in high school...but was an art major in college. (he's all over the place.) moreover, i don't think his dad made him do these types of things when he was growing up. my father, on the other hand, is on the exact other end of the spectrum. in fact, he built my childhood home with his own two hands. i'm not saying he, like, helped a contractor build the house and hammered a couple nails into the walls...i'm talking he built the walls, the floors, did the plumbing, the electric, the drywall...the house. he built a friggen house. with his own two hands. he is not a carpenter or contractor by trade...he's just handy. so you can see that the disconnect in this regard between my husband and my father sometimes becomes humorous. yesterday it was pretty awesome.

my dad had brought a pressure washer down during the last visit in order to clean the siding on our house. whenever he comes to visit, he brings a truck load of tools and does all of the mr. fixit things that need to be done on our property...mainly because butch doesn't operate power tools, nor enjoys manual labor. usually, though, my pop tries to rope warren into helping him...and usually he is successful. so during the last visit, my dad ripped apart our fence in the back to fix it...only to realize it was my neighbors part of the fence. (i had to write a letter of apology to the neighbor...but that's a whole other story.) meanwhile, he told warren to go out on a ladder and use the pressure washer to blow all the dirt off of the siding on the side of the house. butch started out pretty enthusiastic and got about half way done before he quit for the day. my dad decided to leave the pressure washer at our house so that butch could finish during the upcoming weeks he was off for the summer. (i knew damn well that wouldn't happen.) the pressure washer has sat untouched on our porch for the past 2 months.

we haven't gone 'home' in that time, nor have my parents made a visit...so it's just been sitting there. we are going home this weekend and my dad told me to bring it with us. at first, i was like, "yeah, sure." but then got to thinking...and thought about all the CRAP we somehow manage to take home for a mere weekend. (loads of CRAP.) doesn't matter if we are going for a night or a week...our car looks like something outta the show sanford and son. (junk galore.) this time, we also have to travel with our (60 pound) dog, so that's an added...obstacle. (just painting a picture here.) alright, so i tried to do damage control...and recruit fen (who is also traveling home) to take the pressure washer with her in her car, cause she doesn't have two kids (nor a dog and loads of crap) to take along with her. well, of course she wigged out and was worried about gas fumes and leakage and lots of other stuff...so that didn't work out. i don't blame her...because knowing the stuff that happens in her life, it may have spontaneously combusted in the backseat while driving and she would've wrecked or some shit like that. i don't want to be responsible for that business...and it coulda happened. (for real.)

so anyway, to make a long story long...we had to get the gas out of the pressure washer to make it more portable. i called butch on my lunch break at work yesterday and asked him to empty the gas out of it and clean it up. (he agreed.) he asked me where he should dump the gas and i said i didn't know. (turns out i should've given him some options.) i breezed in the door after work and every window downstairs was open, including the sliding glass door to the backyard. i thought it was kinda odd, but the weather was spectacular...so i didn't ask too many questions. ella was swinging (naked) on the swingset, right along her sister...who was still in her pajamas. (no lie.) butch was shirtless and was pushing them both. we went through the normal pleasantries...and i then asked him if he cleaned up the pressure washer. he said yes. i went on..."so where did you put the gas?" now let's just go hypothetical here. if YOU had to dispose of gasoline and you weren't sure what to do with it, what would YOU do? i bet it's not what my HUSBAND DID with it. i thought maybe he dumped it on the side of the house...or in the driveway and washed it away with the hose...or maybe consulted with google or jeeves to find out what to do? (but no no no.)

without missing a beat he said..."in the sink." in the WHAT?! i yelped, "in the SINK!? the godDAMN SINK!? have you lost your mind?!" my hands were on my head, my mouth agape, and the tone of my voice made ella bust out into hysterical laughter. carrie started laughing because her sister was cracking up. i try not to use "bad" words in front of my children...but this was one moment where the phrase "goddamn" sink was necessary. (i couldn't help it.) i walked away and then came back..."THE SINK!? which ONE!?" he replied, "the kitchen sink." i lost my mind..."what made you think that a flammable liquid should be POURED DOWN THE DRAIN!? in our HOUSE?! in the KITCHEN?!" he shrugged his shoulders. (and smirked.) the reason for the windows and back door being wide open was now very clear. i then had to use the facilities and went to the downstairs bathroom...i walked in and was whacked in the face with the smell of gasoline. (jesus.) i then texted my dad. i gave him one guess as to where his son-in-law disposed of the gasoline from the pressure washer. he guessed "the grass." "no, sir! the goddamn kitchen sink!" my dad replied that he would've never guessed that one...and i know DAMN WELL that he was laughing hysterically when he got that message.

it is very reminiscent of the time that our pipes froze last winter...and i was on the phone with my dad telling him about it and asking how to unfreeze them. during this phone call...butch walked out and opened the electrical box. (the electrical box.) he was looking for some way to "turn back on" the water. (this really happened.) all i said to my dad was, "oh my god...he's looking in the electrical box." it took a good 5 minutes for my father to get his shit together...he was doing the ugly laugh on the other end of the phone and couldn't breathe, talk, or function. when he finally composed himself he just said, "step away from the electrical box, butch." (awesome.) this being said, he is no stranger to butch's non- handyman ways...so the gasoline down the kitchen sink wasn't a complete surprise. (funny, but not shocking.) he told me to run the water and flush the toilets a couple of times...and a couple hours later my dad was still laughing about it. (i was not laughing about it.) in fact, i was so pissed off that i strapped on my sneakers and went for a run at 7pm (even though i was highly exhausted at that point.) it was either that or stress shovel a coupla klondike bars down my chops. (i chose the former...good for me.)

so like i said in the beginning...the nonsense is never ending. it's like an eff'd up made for tv movie. (annnndddd action!) gasoline down the kitchen sink? just par for the course in this house. when i got home today, it realized it was the first day this week that my children were actually dressed in normal clothing. carrie's dress was on backwards...but at least he attempted to clothe them. shortly after i arrived, he showered and ran out the door to go somewhere. (anywhere.) he's had it with the stay at home dad gig. upon our arrival, i cannot wait to hear the shellacking my dad is going to lay on butch...or maybe there will be no words exchanged about it, he'll just give him one of his "looks." (either way, it's well deserved.) i'm over the fact that he poured flammable fuel down our pipes...i'm just glad he didn't blow up the house. had that happened, though, at least i know that my dad could build us a new one. (however, i sincerely hope that he would have enough sense to not ask my husband for his help.)  tonight we are packing up the car so we can leave right after i am done work in the afternoon. included in the vehicle tomorrow will be...a pack n play, a feeding chair, a dog, 4 bodies, 3 bags, 2 carseats, 1 pressure washer, everything but the (gasoline ridden) kitchen sink. good grief.

balls

during our first back to school meeting, my principal used the phrase "balls to the wall." i can't be certain, but i'm pretty sure that's a precursor to a great school year. however, waking up to an alarm this morning was not fun. if you are a nine to fiver (or non teacher)...you want to hurt me right now. (just hear me out.)  i am already up pretty early most days...i have my own two live in alarm clocks and their names are ella and carrie. (ages 3 and 1, respectively.) however, upon waking up on a nonworking day...i don't have to venture out into the world until i'm fully ready. i think that's the thing i hate the most about my job...just having to be there so damn early and see other people. (and their dumb faces.) i am not a "morning person" by any means...and in the teaching profession i've come across a lot of chipper chickadees that love to catch the proverbial worm early in the morning. they come bouncing into the building and all i can think about...is how i want to flip them off. (that's bad.) anyway, i just don't like to be a productive member of society before i'm fully awake...and i'm forced to do that every damn day that i work.

alright, enough ranting...i know most of you have been working this whole summer and would rather stick a hot poker in your eye than listen to me whine about the fact that i have to go back to work. (easy there.) i will say that when i walked into the building today, it really felt like i had never left. i also had a flashback to this time last year...when i was hiding in a closet in the school building pumping breast milk for carrie, who was only 2 months old. this same day, i walked out of the closet with the bottle of breast milk in my hand...and ran right into a family who was registering to be in my kindergarten class. i froze and they just kinda stared at me. i proceeded to smile, shake their hands, and introduce myself. they didn't mention the fact that i had a bottle of still warm breast milk in my other hand...or the fact that a few minutes prior to that, i just had myself hooked up to a machine that resembled something you would use on a farm animal. (no big deal.) i said goodbye to them, put my motherhood milk in the fridge, and went about my day. this year, thankfully, i don't have to deal with the joys of that business. but seriously, where the hell did that year go? from breast milk and bottles...to a walking one year old in no time flat? (it's crazy.)

since butch has one more week off, he is home with the kids. i never know how things are going to go when this happens...but usually they go okay now that the kids are a little older. when i arrived back at the ranch, there were several (like 4) amazon packages on the porch blocking the front door. i picked them all up and walked into the house, knowing damn well i didn't order anything from amazon anytime recently. my husband was on the couch wearing only boxer shorts (balls akimbo) and carrie was fully dressed in (long sleeve/long pant) jammies. she was fussing. he said, "she keeps fussing, i don't know what's wrong." i scooped her up and she was all smiles...and then she snapped her head around and just stared at butch, disgusted. (i laughed.) i have no idea what her disgust was about...nonetheless, the look was priceless. he just shrugged his shoulders and stared at us. i said, "well maybe she's hot? she is wearing long sleeved jammie's and pants. it's 90 degrees outside. you are half naked. so maybe that's it?" he said, "i tried to take them off and she got pissed!" (alright then.) i mentioned to him the fact that he got a bunch of packages from amazon. he got all excited and ran to the kitchen like a little kid on christmas.

meanwhile, i took carrie upstairs to see if ella had woken up from her nap. when i poked my head into her room, she was laying in her crib asleep  (in full sleeve and pant jammies)...and it smelled like something had died, was laid to rest, and was rotting in her toy box. i decided to go in and wake her up. a few minutes after opening her eyes, i asked, "did you poop?!" she said, "yes. before my nap and then i just went to sleep." can you imagine crappin' your pants and then laying down for a nice nap? kids are so crazy. i asked her if she tried to call for her dad to change her and she replied, "nope! i just laid down. my was tired."so tired that you would rather sleep with poop in your pants? okay then. i changed her and walked downstairs as butch was modeling new polo shirts and a new pair of shoes. (with the boxer shorts he had on previously) he said, "i ordered these because it seems that you have been "shrinking" all of my shirts." i assured him that i was not shrinking anything...that the man wearing the shirts was expanding. he laughed and then said, "well they are all too small! i need bigger shirts, trish!" (dear jesus.) apparently when i was gone on saturday (for a football game with my brother), he ordered the shirts online. i'll be gone for the next 4 days...i hope i don't come home to a brand new pony on the front porch or some shit like that. (seriously.)

anyways, my first day back to work wasn't as brutal as i thought it was going to be. did i miss my kids? yes. did i miss wearing pajamas until 9am? yes. did i miss not having to look at people's dumb faces before i was fully awake? yes. next week, however, is when the real fun starts. the day when every parent rejoices and believes that it's the most wonderful time of the year...the time when their children come back to school. i've been teaching for 8 years, and the excitement of the first day of school never gets old. i always get butterflies and i am just as nervous as the kids. this is something your kid's teacher won't ever tell you...but it's true! i am looking forward to the upcoming school year and all of the new fun endeavours and excitement that it entails. moreover, i hope that at least one day this week i come home and my children (and husband) are dressed in (normal) clothes. what the hell, warren? (get it together.) yesterday i was talking to ella about how i had to go back to work and how teaching was my job. i then asked her what she wanted to be when she grows up. without missing a beat, she replied, "a princess!" (me too!) princess > teacher. on to another school year, another batch of kids, another bunch of shenanigans, i'm sure. goodbye summer, hello fall...it's time to go balls to the wall.

people

my husband and my first born have been away for approximately a week. i'd say about night 4 (give or take) was when i started to go a little bat shit crazy. i'm on night 7 now and i'm fully there. (full bat shit.) carrie is cute and stuff...but she can't carry on a conversation. hell, the one day i was so hard up for adult interaction that i went to the grocery store with her after her nap...just so i could talk to people face to face. (i really didn't need to buy anything.) i don't know what that says about me as a person...i mean, i already know that i enjoy socializing and talking with other people, but going to the grocery store to talk with brenda the cashier and paul the produce guy? that's a little intense. i ended up buying stuff for dinner and inviting over fen. (more about that later.)  i'm (still) not working (one more week...eeek!), i was home with carrie during the day for 4 days straight. now sure, we got out of the house to do occasional errands, go for a run, play in the backyard, but other than that i felt like i was stranded on a deserted island...and that island was my house. carrie turned into a little needy monkey on that island (grunts and all) and all we were missing was the palm tree.

i did every household chore imaginable in the last couple of days as well. laundry? every stitch done. floors? clean. vacuuming? every carpet. ceiling fans? oh yes. i called butch one day and said, "turns out i don't need a house keeper, i just needed one less husband and one less kid. the house is so clean!" he said, "what do you mean? i don't make messes...all i do is lay there." his words. not mine. (i swear he said this.) anyway, my boredom morphed me into mr. clean, minus the bald head and bulging muscles.  also, the house is just so quiet. ella talks incessantly about anything she can...and butch is pretty much the same way. so without those two yammering on...there was not much noise, with an occasional grunt or goofy sound out of the chubby baby. it was nice at first...and then it just was weird. (hence, the desperate grocery store trip.) i may bust butch's balls (a lot), but he really is a good dad and a good husband. he's also another adult in the house, so that i don't have to resort to teaching my youngest child tricks...like a dog. (this happened.) she can now clap, blow kisses, do the cheese face, and throw her hands up into a touchdown pose. i tried to teach her to read, but i guess she's not ready yet...probably because she hasn't even said her first word.

alright, so that pretty much sums up my last coupla days...the nights were a different story. carrie is usually asleep by 7:30pm, so that's usually when i would pour a glass (or 5) of wine and relax. again, turns out i suck at being alone...so i recruited fen to imbibe in adult beverages and conversation, for the past 5 nights. (five.) we haven't spent that much time together since...i don't know when. last night when we went out to dinner she said, "how do we even have anything to talk about anymore?" the answer is i have no idea. i guess that's the mark of a good friendship, though...being able to find stuff to talk and laugh about five solid nights in a row, and not get sick of each other. the other people that i would normally recruit for social interaction were all on vacation...so it was fen to the rescue. if she hadn't agreed to keep me company...i surely would've been locked up in the insane asylum at the county hospital, babbling to myself and asking if i could go see brenda the cashier at the grocery store just one more time. (dear lord.) some people are okay being alone. i am not one of those people...and i'm not afraid to admit it either. 

so the past couple of mornings, i would start my day by calling ella. (who is 3.) she informed me today that she is not coming home from my inlaws house...she is staying there. i know that they are spoiling her rotten and she is all about it. every time i see pictures of her, she has on a new outfit or a new toy in her hand. i said, "don't you miss mommy?" (she had a blow up guitar in her hands.) she replied, "not weally." NOT REALLY!? (oh good.) meanwhile, i'm crying in my cheerios about missing her, and she's planning on staying out west and happily living out the rest of her days. (kids are awesome.) i mean, i only carried her around for nine months, shot her out of my lady parts, fed her from my own body, cared for her 24/7 the first year...but no worries, that new outfit and that new teddy bear you got are lookin' pretty cool. maybe the bear can take care of you. (geez.) i bet it's the equivalent of having a teenager tell you they "hate you" after you've raised them the past 15 years. (can't WAIT for that day. not.) she's probably in for a rude awakening when she comes home and there isn't toys falling out of the sky and she has to share the spotlight with her sister again. i am well aware that she will come marching back in the house with her toddler attitude and try to take over the world. (bring it, girlfriend.) 

tonight kinda feels like christmas eve, cause tomorrow i get to pick up my people at the airport. saying that i missed them is a severe understatement. by tomorrow evening i'm sure things will be right back to the way they were a week ago. ella will probably have her sister in a headlock over a toy, there will be 34 messes made around the house, butch will be scratching his ballsack on the couch...and i will be complaining about making meals. moreover, missing your kid like crazy and having them tell you that that don't "weally" miss you is just another kick in the pants with parenthood. however, while writing this today, i looked over to see carrie eating cat food...and clapping her hands. that's a parenting win in my book, the clapping that is. (it all balances out in the end.) soon i know ella will not be excited about a new toy...but a new car. before we know it, carrie will not be eating catfood...but visiting colleges. i needed this week to remember to slow down and enjoy the ride...i told this to paul the produce guy as i was picking out my unneeded apples. (he agreed.) more importantly, i needed this week to remember to not take for granted the relationships i have with the people in my life, especially my family and friends (like fen)...because sometimes at the end of the day, that's all you got.