What? Another Month Already?

It’s so quiet here! Mr Wonderful is up grading papers (and he made me fresh coffee and winkedat me), so no troubles in that quarter. The library had all three of the original “Star Wars” VHS tapes available, so the kids have enjoyed their post-school time very much this weekend- no troubles there, either!

Side note: must brag on kiddos again, folks. You see, our VHS player is broken- there is constant mild snow over every tape (except Richard Simmons’ “Dance Your Pants Off”. Don’t have a clue why- I credit God; #1, who hates exercise in any form, isn’t so sure). These sweet kiddos don’t complain, they just watch what they can. Yes, they know it’s not supposed to be snowy in the movie, they have seen “clean” VHS movies at friends’ houses. Yes, I remind them when we’re in the library, “You know this is VHS, and ours is broken.” “It’s OK, Mom.”, they assure me. And, when we get home, they sit quietly through the whole blizzard. Wow.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, quiet. I can hear a bird out the front window. We have a church picnic this evening, and I had one last package of sliced turkey and multi-grain bread in the freezer, so the girls can make the picnic basket up whilst I change after church and set up next week’s schoolwork. The winter clothes are all set up in closets for the brisk evenings predicted next week, and soup stock lines the top shelf of the freezer. I kid you not, I can feel my shoulders un-tensing even as I type that.

I’m working on chapter 3 of my Greek text- still in pronunciation and syllabification, but I expected that, what with the new alphabet and all. (I’ve decided to put my grocery list into Greek letters for practice, since no one reads it except me, and I’ll learn faster that κοφι is pronounced “coffee” and πίδζά σος is “pizza sauce”. (Ya’ll pray that I don’t get confused in the middle of the grocery aisle and bring home shoe polish instead, OK?)

No 18-wheelers coming through the electrical lines, no packing to move to China, no strep throat, no job hunting, paint spills, or blistering heat. Thank You, God, for the end of summer!

31 + 7

I like structure. Framework. Routine. By God’s grace, my body has always had a routine. 31 days. If I start on a Wednesday, I just count off 4 Wednesdays, add 3, and mark a small circle on the calendar. I can almost predict it within 6 hours, depending on how much sleep I got.

This time, 38 days. No, not pregnant, unless you see a star in the East. The Change. Ah, how I want to be starting that lovely time of life when a woman can wear white pants every day of the summer without worry or care. When her purse becomes a pound lighter. When she sells her stock in Cheetos and lets her membership to the Cattlemen’s Association lapse. When “grouchy” is always because *you* are being a jerk, not because it’s “That Time”.

Hot flashes? No sweat. Estrogen therapy? Unnecessary. My mom and her 8 sisters have all gone through the Change. Not one problem. We are blessed.

But not this month. Blast.

Put Down the Sewing Machine, and No One Will Get Hurt

God loves #2 a lot. (OK, OK, God loves all of us a lot. John 3:16 and all that.) After going through clothes, clothes, clothes today, her “Need for Winter List” was exactly this: 3 pair jeans. One sweater, pink or white. Hmmm, what’s that large box that says “Kitchen Trash Bags” doing in the back of the girls’ bedroom closet? Was I really so out of room in the pantry I put a big box in their closet?
Yeah, you guessed it. Three pair of jeans, sized for #2. Three very cute (she would hate to know I wrote that, but they are) long-sleeved tops. One pink sweater.

On the other hand, #1 has exactly this many clothes for the winter: all the unders she needs. One shirt. Yeah, one shirt is it. Gloryana. Is she complaining? Envious of her sister? Nope, she’s here next to me studying a butterfly she pinned last week and singing and smiling at life.

#3 needs a couple of shirts for church. Remind me again why boys’ clothes are simpler (more solid colors, less to match), cheaper, and easier to find than girls’?

Yes, it’s 90 degrees this afternoon. Don’t go there, OK?

Looking to the Future- But with Myopic Vision

We have kept the windows open for the last week, and haven’t missed the A/C. The kids’ rooms and Master have heavier curtains. So I check my box “JerseyChick’s Winter Clothes” (hoping to find something refreshingly “new” to wear, honestly), and it contains (drum roll, please): SIX pair of wool socks (in various colors), TWO sweatshirts (complete with cutesy iron-ons) and ONE cardigan (burnt orange and black). Hmmm. Not inspiring. As with most autumns, I’m eyeing jumpers…Soccer Mom to the Rescue!

#3 has already slipped back into his wintery pajamas, complaining of being cold these recent mornings. Somehow, the fringe on his Western Flannels has not remained as intact as I would’ve hoped- in fact, he looks like he’s been fixin’ those barbed-wire cattle fences, if you ask me.

Today is Plan Sewing Projects day. Yep, God willing, I’m even going to brave the Girls’ Clothes Box. (Anything to avoid the other Winterizing project: Under the House!) (If you don’t see a posting for 3 or 4 days, please alert the authorities that I have attempted Under the House as well, and have them send Search & Rescue immediately. Thank you.)

Now, considering how much I’ve been whining about losing classroom time, and that #3 (happily) has football games for the next 5 weeks, how to schedule a trip to Fabricville, and hour away, with 3 kids???

As the World Turns

So, here I sit, completely ready (and a bit eager) for Geometry class, and my student calls to postpone until next week. Bummer. Well, I’ll dive into the mystery of Tangents and Chords on Monday, and have 2 chapters ready. He’s a good student, he’ll have at least 1 1/2 ready, too.

Plus, it gives me time to stand on the towels (and terry bathrobe that needed to be washed anyway) in the living room so they soak up more water. Seems the carpet on the other side of the washing machine is soaking wet for some reason. It’s under a table and chair, so it took until today for me to notice. Unless BillyBob cracked a pipe as he installed the washer and those two loads I did last night caused the wet…

#2 promises she’ll stand with me under the house (folks, it’s mouse-poop-and-hanging-insulation *nasty* under there!!) during the next rinse and spin cycle to see if the water comes through somewhere.

All three kiddos volunteered to do double duty at schoolwork today so we can take tomorrow off for fun. We’ll have a simple conversation in Spanish over dinner, #1 will finally finish coloring that cartoon of Gilgamesh after the rest of us go to bed (she’s our Night Owl. #1, not Gilgamesh.), and we’ll be set. I always set up the next week’s copies, assignments, etc on Thursdays, so it came together nicely today and we can watch “Chronicles of Narnia” and hope that “Prince Caspian” doesn’t come out the same week as “National Treasure 2″.

May God bless you all with a peaceful, restful weekend, and surprises of joy each morning and night.

Piqued

It occurs to me, rereading my last post, that I want to look like Helen Mirren. Only, when I look at Helen Mirren, I don’t think she’s easy on the eyes. At all. Hmmm, maybe a different haircut?

Anyway, today was good. #3 politely let the QB know it was time to give him (#3) a chance to catch a pass. Wendy, or whoever that new guy in the red wig is, cooked and did the dishes after practice.

#2 and I did aerobics whilst #1 helped #3 with his spelling, then #1 and #3 did a set whilst #2 made sure they didn’t cheat and I made quizzes and photocopies for next weeks’ lessons.

Mr Wonderful put the kids to bed, vented for about 30 minutes, then noticed I had an open geometry book in front of me and left me alone. I’m almost ready for my student tomorrow. Sines, cosines, tangents- I haven’t looked at them for 25 years, but they do appeal to the mystery-solver in me(once the house quiets).

I Must Be Mad, Because I’m No Longer Angry

But I don’t have beautiful snowy white hair yet, either.
I sat the kids down and told them I needed help with exercise, that each time they (especially #1) told me “Let’s skip it”, they were saying “I want to be sick for the rest of my life”. (They don’t have the vocab for “unfit physically without endurance, tone, or muscle response”, so “sick” has to do.) They were happy to refocus on exercise.

I stopped at BillyBob’s on the way to the food pickup and told him the front door was open. By the time I got back, he had put in the new washer (which is a nice, larger than the previous, high-tech thing), carted the old one away, unscrunched the monkey grass where he had driven his hand truck, and fixed the leaky pipe by the washer intake. No kidding. BillyBob is getting some home-baked cookies tomorrow.

I cancelled school and the kids did all their chores: scrubbed toilets (#2 likes that job, no kidding), tubs, sinks & mirrors, emptied trash cans, swept and mopped all the tile floors, vacuumed every room, and #1 dusted the entire house, including ceiling fans, whilst I went to AWANA with #2 and #3. Oh, and #2 quite cheerfully made bologna sandwiches for us to eat in the van and emptied the dishwasher so I could stack dinner dishes in before leaving for AWANA.

(We’re 45 days into the school year already, so it didn’t kill us to skip academics for a day, and the monkey of housework is off my back for a week.)

I found a copy of “Hangman’s Curse” at the library, and have finished it and Grace Livingston Hill’s “Not Under the Law” today. Both Christian fiction about standing for your beliefs in spite of various types of pressure, being kind to the misunderstood, and trying to live honorably. NUL written in 1924, HC written in 2003. After NUL, I felt like sewing a new dress and smiling at my neighbors. After HC, I felt like I was covered in dirt. Ugh.

Tomorrow, God willing, good schoolwork, Greek practice (I’ve ordered a curriculum and memorized 15 of the 24 letters of the alphabet), aerobic workout, colcannon for dinner. For the future, I’m praying the Lord will show me a way to get a pool membership- #1 assures me she would exercise mightily in a swimming pool, and I love water workouts, too.

If I Were Rich (and Not So Angry)

I would get fake fingernails and dye my hair snowy white.
I would have gastric bypass done, and lasik.
I would get a prescription for COPD relievers.
I would get a lifetime gym membership and spend three hours a day, three times a week there.

Sometimes I paint clear polish on my fingers in the hopes they won’t break that month. It doesn’t work.
I change my contacts monthly instead of biweekly- but only because Dr Voyce yelled at me for two years when I told him I changed them bimonthly.
No doctor would believe someone as young as I am could have COPD. I do.
I let my kids whine me into not doing aerobics with the Silver Foxes Tuesdays.

I am pretty angry at them, and myself, for that today. #1 especially- #2 would’ve done aerobics right after lunch if I had put off dishes, making cookies, and finishing homeschool with #3 for an hour. I’m angry at #1 for always choosing the easiest path. I’m scared of where she’ll end up. I’m tired of her stealing my health, of me letting her steal my health and hers. I’m not going to put up with it any more, at all.

I am not a person who can do things gradually. Cold turkey, that’s what we do in my mom’s family. My mom used to smoke two packs a day. One day she quit, and hasn’t had one cigarette since. Dad kicked drinking the same way, so I suppose the iron will is on both sides.

I’m also tired of people stealing my time. Mr Wonderful stopped by the Used Appliance place up the street and bought a washer. (Yes, I had told him my plan was to go to Habitat and get a new one for a low price on Thursday.) Used Appliance Guy is delivering it tomorrow. Around 9 am. Homeschooling starts at 8. We have a food pickup tomorrow at 10:30, or whenever I can get there after BillyBob Used Appliance Guy gets done. Then we will return our library books to the library on the far side of the food co-op lady’s house. (It’s too far to justify gas money for a separate trip each week, and the nearer library sucks.)

We aren’t likely to get back through construction on I-85 (for the 4th month in a row) before 1 pm, and we have to walk out the door for me to lead AWANA Cubbies by 6. Bologna sandwiches amd bottled tea in the van for lunch, anyone?

We’ll get 1 hour of homeschooling in tomorrow, if we’re lucky. It would be prime to just do aerobics, but I have neither the money nor the figure for modest workout clothes, and BillyBob could show up any time after 8 but before 11, he assures us.

I’m not happy the washer blew, and I had to spend part of this morning at the laundromat, with two TVs and a Fool’s Money Waster (a pinball machine) making so much noise the kids couldn’t concentrate on their schoolwork. One tried doing her italics workbook in the van. You can imagine what it looked like. And I had to drive across town yesterday to a friend’s to wash towels, since Mr Wonderful used every, *every* towel in the house to sop up the washerwater.

Yes, I’m thankful I have friends to borrow their washer, a close laundromat, quarters spend in the washing machines, a dryer that works, a husband who has a job so we can get a new washer.

By the way, I almost wrote “a husband who thinks he’s being helpful by getting the washer for me”, but that’s garbage. I clearly told him my plan was to go to Habitat Thursday. Just another example of him pretending to try to help me as a coverup for doing it his way, to his own pleasure and power trip. And that caps off why I’m pissed: He asked if I wanted his help, I said, “No, I’m going to Habitat Thursday”.

Not only does he do it his way, then he PRETENDS he was “just trying to help, why aren’t you grateful?” Don’t lie to yourself, Mr W- we’ve had this discussion a hundred times in our 11 years of marriage; don’t pretend you thought you were helping, and DON’T act like I have to buy into your twisted version of the story.

Yes, I know it’s wrong to involve the kids, but we have had several discussions about “If I was drowning and asked for a life preserver, and you made me my favorite sandwich instead, would it really be helping?” Because if the kids grow up believing they can live in unreality and expect people to buy it, especially me, I may as well leave them exposed on a mountainside this winter and hope a motherly-feeling wolf happens along.

I am well and truly pissed.

Because, After All,

it’s been three weeks since anything disastrous happened. Two weeks, if you count my cousin dying up in Pennsylvania.

So, the washer died sometime during the night. Full of dark clothes and soapy water, it sat like a lead zeppelin in my pantry. Monday is wash day. The weekly schedule doesn’t have much margin, I admit- Mr Wonderful has exactly five sets of work outfits, and one of those must serve double duty each week as churchwear.

Mr Wonderful felt it incumbent to study, and went recumbent, whilst I attempted to disconnect the water lines in anticipation of finding a good, used washer that could be delivered by Monday afternoon. Sadly, I was unaware that brass fittings loosen in clockwise, as opposed to all other types of fastenings. Plus, Mr Wonderful used his strength to fasten the water lines when we reconnected the washer after laying new tile two months ago. Plus, I didn’t know you have to turn off all the dials when removing water lines.

(I grew up in apartments, where the landlord takes care of things like replacing washers.)

So I broke the pipe. Water poured everywhere. Mr Wonderful scooted under the house to turn off the water supply. “I’d better learn how to do that, too!” think I, following through old mouse nests. Mr Wonderful couldn’t find the turn-off valve. Hmmm, how to stop the water? Back up to the fuse box (in the wall directly behind the washer, of course) to turn off the well. No more Lake Woebegon in the pantry. ‘Course, no more water in the house. I made sure the kids used the bathroom while we were in Lowe’s.

Mr Wonderful had a clown gig scheduled for this afternoon, so he has gone to earn the money to buy a new (used, but new to our family) washer. I found a helpful guy at Lowe’s and brought home pipe repair stuff (Mr Wonderful made a list). Maybe 48 hours will make all the difference.

Mr Wonderful and I are not happy with each other today. Somebody needs to put us in “time out”.

Well, Isn’t that Special?

Housekeeping with #1 has taken a break, but #2 has volunteered for duty. I mentioned to #1 again last night my disappointment with her consistent choosing of the “low road”- procrastination, cutting out early, choosing the easiest jobs over the ones that showcase her talents, etc.

On the plus side, Mr Wonderful declared “Anything but a Georgia fan!” for #3’s decor yesterday. “UK (his alma mater), Auburn (mine), anything but Georgia!” So the eBay search is on for AU decor. (No, I did not manipulate #3 to choose orange as his favorite color!)

#3’s first flag football game went well. He was super-excited out on the field (as evidenced by his wildly-waving hands), but running tired him enough to focus, and by the end of the game, both teams “got it” and played very well (for 7-year-olds)!

A good weekend. (‘Course, any weekend where a truck doesn’t pull out our power lines is now a good weekend, to us!)