Do you ever think about routine? Does it ever get old? The word stagnant comes to mind. The movie Groundhog Day comes to mind. Where the same thing occurs day, after day, after day. Alarm.… More
I have decided my dinner tonight shall be a cheese stick and a bottle of wine.
I woke up late, (shit!!).
Puppy had explosive diarrhea in her kennel, (SHIT!!!).
Put the puppy outside and tossed the kennel in the yard and added cleaning it to my to do list.
While outside puppy dug out all the crap out of the kiva fire pit. So now I have black ashes all over my deck and puppy.
Hit brew on my coffee pot and forgot to put the coffee pot under the brewer. (FML) of course I didn’t see this until the full pot was made because I took a shower while coffee was brewing.
Got out of shower and cleaned kitchen counters, cabinets and floors while cursing.
Child one arrives to daycare and vomits at the door. Send them home and clean it up.
Child two comes in with (BITCH) mom and mom can figure out why my screen door won’t shut and she’s pulling it hard to close as her daughter is silent screaming because her little fingers are in the jam.
My youngest daughter wakes up and uses too much toilet paper and floods the bathroom upstairs so bad its flooding the downstairs bathroom while daycare kid 3, and 4 get here.
At this point, after the parents leave I step outside and seriously start crying.
I have a massive toothache that is nearly bringing me to the ground and have a dentist appointment tomorrow.
I am so over this day. So forget a glass of wine. Bring on the whole damn bottle.
What makes you think of someone? A million differnet things can. My grandfather played piano. The man was amazing. He couldn’t read sheet music. He knew any song you could name or request by heart. Any song. He had a nickname for all of us kids, mine being ‘Sparky’. He’d say, “Here is Sparky’s song!” and he’d play “New York, New York!”
We would go see my grandpa at the piano bars he played in before they would open. Sometimes Kids could come if he played in a restraunt VS an actual bar. But before the bar would open we’d go in. I was young; maybe 8. I remeber how dark his piano bar was. I remember wondering why he always had a fish bowl on his piano. I distintly remember the smell of cigars and the sounds of glasses clinking as they set up for the night. I remembered rubbing the red velvet on the seats back and forth making the fabric shift from smooth to rough. My grandfather always wore a suit. Classy. I wish now, (as a 40+ year old adult) that I could have been at an age to see him play while having a glass of wine. I didn’t respect as a kid what he did. Young and dumb lol. When I reached an age that I did love what he did, he swore every piano was ‘out of tune’ when in all reality he was losing his hearing. He’d never admit that though. When I hear a piano now, he comes to mind. My dad often says the same thing. My dad said growning up he’d hear and fall asleep to my grandpa playing piano. My grandpa always played my parents piano at the holdiay gatherings before and after dinner. I’m so glad he made a cassette tape of him playing that my cousin made into a CD. It’s such a cool thing he did. Now if I could just find a good piano bar here in Denver.
Do you ever wonder what your life would be like had you done something different? One thing. Went on a date you turned down? Took different classes in college? Married the first boyfriend you had? I think our lives go the way they are supposed to, but I’d be curious to hear ways you think your life could have gone left instead of the right you took.
I had a guy that really liked me in school. Asked me out several times and I always politely turned him down. I was never mean or unkind, he just wasn’t my type. I think about this a lot now for many reasons. One reason is I have a son who had been turned down many times by the same girl he had a forever crush on. He kept trying to get up the courage to ask her again, casually like it was no big deal. Makes me think back on my situation and how that boy felt. Or how that boys mother felt. My son talked to me about his efforts and saying he knows she’d have a good time if she’d just go… His dad and I tried to get him to focus on other girls, other things or not try so hard. Things just kind of fall into place when they are supposed to. My son met a girl, (a great girl) and it was wonderful and his words were easy and uncomplicated. They now are engaged and life is good. I joked with him had it worked out with the other girl, he wouldn’t have the girl he has now. Things have a funny way of working out.
The crazy thing is the guy I kept turning down I think about often. I have heard of/about him a few times. He bought a house three houses down from my parents home and waives to my dad often. On a walk my parents were on one night he was in his front yard. He asked about me. My mom said I was married with six kids and living in Denver. She said he smiled and looked down and said of course she’s married. I always knew she’d end up with the husband and kids and great story. I was taken back by his response. This man now owns a huge company has all kinds of money, has his **** in a row and still asks/talks about me. My mom said to him that what he’s done to his house is nice, that it looks amazing since he’s moved in. He said he bought it to gut it and rent it out, to have some “extra income to throw at the house he is having built that he hopes to retire in in just a couple more years” UMMMM hello we are 43. MUST BE NICE. I just wondered had I said yes to one of those dates how my life would be now. Obviously I don’t have any regrets I love my life, but its fun to think about. On facebook he is always traveling to crazy places you only dream of going. I guess when you don’t have six kids you can afford to travel like that lol. I don’t feel like he is the one who got away by any means but I wish I would have told him yes just once, not to change my story but to not now think about if I broke his heart a bit every time I gave him some reason as to why I couldn’t go. I just know how my son felt every time that girl turned him down. It kills me to think that I possibly made someone feel that way too.
Anyone have a similar story?
You think. In circles. Over and over again. The same thoughts, ideas, plans, and lists. You rub your head and eyes and neck in the same aching places. Under the blankets in the dark you are hot. You kick off the blankets and quickly get cold. The routine is all the same.
I dread 8pm. Absolutely dread it. You take a deep breath and plan to just tackle the moms to-do at 8pm list. You try to get things going with your kids, without nagging or sounding tired when all you REALLY want to do is scream for everyone to JUST GET IN BED. I am a pro at this however. Or so I like to think. I think ahead. I’ve always been pretty good at that. Of course it has taken me 23 years of being a mom to be able to say that. This is me. Guys! Its time for bed. Mark, brush your teeth. Sailor go in your room, daddy is going to do your pajamas. Jaidyn go get dressed for bed while your brother is brushing his teeth. Mark go get dressed for bed, Jaidyn brush your teeth, Sailor get your blanket, Paci and cup in your bed. Mark get a drink, Sailor brush your teeth, Jaidyn get a drink, Sailor get a drink, Mark do your medicine on your leg, EVERYONE BLOW YOUR NOSE. No one has a fever. No one forgot anything. EVERYONE got a hug. Everything else can be done and or talked about tomorrow. I love you. Hug. I love you. Hug. I love you Hug. GOODNIGHT. I go into the bathroom with a sink full of spit out tooth paste rinse the sink. I put the last of the get a drink dishes into the dishwasher and hit start. I grab the bottle of wine that was opened last night and pour a glass. I take a drink and set the glass down, however unlike my coffee in the morning this beverage won’t need to be reheated three times before it is finished. I look at my husband who is staring blankly at the television in the front room and walk around the house with my small basket looking like Little Red Ridding Hood. This fabulous system is called my basket system. It is amazing. I recommend you take note and try it. I have all my girlfriends doing my basket system too. You take your basket and go into the first room of your house. You take everything in that room that should be somewhere else and put it in the basket. You then clean/straighten the room. You go into the next room and take anything that is in the basket that goes in that room out of the basket and put it in its place. You then put into the basket anything that doesn’t belong in that room and you clean and straighten that room. I do this to all the rooms other than the rooms my kids are sleeping in. I make the kitchen be the last room I do because I end with my glass of wine and laptop. I take them both and go out onto the back deck where we have a TV installed. I turn it to a channel that plays soft music, I like John Mayer, Matt Nathanson, or just a jazz station and I start blogging. This is how I unwind. Funny thing is this is what I want to be doing however, after like 40 minutes and two glasses of wine, I am EXHAUSTED. I go to bed and as I pass my husband he turns off the television. I lay down and in minutes am asleep. This is so crazy to me. I am so tired I am instantly sleeping. OUT. However, give me 40 minutes to an hour and DING my power nap is over. I am looking at the ceiling, with the moon shinning through the blinds, annoyed like always. My house is quiet other than my husbands snoring and everything is as it should be at one in the morning. This is every single night. I lay there and it starts. Did I pay that bill on time? Did I write eggs on the grocery list? Crap I forgot to email Mark’s teacher back. Every. Single. Night. Then the stomach starts to grumble, not from hunger but from worry. Are my older kids okay? I haven’t talked to Connor in a while. I’m sure he’s fine, he’s so independent and would call if he wasn’t okay. Morgan is fine I’m sure, she is always fine. She’d be the one to survive if the world came to an end. Kali is fine, working at this hour, like Morgan they work graveyards. Did I shut the garage door after driving home from rugby or softball? I get up and go look and check the doors. I walk super quiet not to wake the puppies where they start barking. I check on the kids, cover them if needed and get back in bed. When did my body start hurting. Damn I’m getting old. Speaking of old, I should call the doctor about…… and it goes on. You get my point. I don’t have time to think of this crap during the day because I am working and being a mom. Its so stressful. So I reach for the laptop on my desk, put on my wireless headphones, start up pandora and read blogs. Until 3am. 3am is followed by trying to take a shower, and caving and taking a Xanax and rubbing my neck and forearms with Doterra’s deep blue. I usually recall looking at the clock for the last time somewhere in the 4 o’clock hour and my alarm blares at 5:45 and I want to cry. EVERY. SINGLE. MORNING. I’m not quite sure how I function. I just do. I get up and my day repeats its self. Again and again, and again. Please tell me I’m not alone.
When I was about eight, I remember the biggest thunderstorm I’d ever witnessed. The clouds were so dark. The thunder was so loud. I remember it started hailing. My sister, brother and I were standing in the garage where my dad stood watching the storm. I remember grabbing buckets for us three kids and putting them over our heads and running though the yard and hail. I remember my dad not disapproving. I remember him laughing and saying loudly that we were crazy. I remember how loud the hail that was beating down on the plastic buckets was. I remember the sting my leg or back or arm felt when an occasional piece of hail hit my skin. My laughing and screaming echoed loudly throughout my own bucket. It was almost deafening. I remember being barefoot, and not needing to see where I was running. I knew our front yard like the back of my hand. I knew where to watch for the exposed root of the tree so I didn’t trip. I knew where the railroad tie was that outlined the grass. I knew up by the house I’d most likely get a pine needle in my feet because that was where the big pine tree grew. I knew with my dad watching he’d warn us if danger approached. “SLOW DOWN YOUR GOING TO FALL” I heard my brother’s bucket hit the neighbors driveway. “YOU OKAY?” my dad called? “YEAH!” he replied as we all started running again. I felt safe. I knew my boundaries but I had him. My dad.
This man, this good man. This law abiding citizen, Police Officer in good standing, married, father of three was my dad. In my mind as a child, he was a cop who got the bad guys. I never thought for a second that the bad guys might get him, he never lead me to believe that could happen, would happen or might happen. He was my own personal super hero. Who am I kidding, he still is.
Still a perfect law abiding citizen, retired Police officer, married father of three, and still my dad. Lucky me.
Feels like -15. Crazy. It is so cold. I’m thankful for my home and the heat that heats it. I am heartbroken for the people who are homeless. Denver has some great programs for the homeless. Our state just launched a program that will pay the homeless twelve dollars and hour to work during the day. No drug tests, no back ground checks, they only have to show up. Here is the article, it was interesting to read.
So I am blogging today. Watching movies. Wanting to stay in bed. I don’t know how possible that is with a two year old. I wanted to finish my Christmas shopping today but that isn’t happening. It took my son two hours to get to work, a drive that normally takes him 20 minutes. Crazy weather. We have this saying here in Colorado. “If you don’t like the weather just stick around, it will change.” 😏 Very true. Did I mention it was 50 degrees yesterday? Well it was.
If you’re reading this, comment where you are reading from and what your weather is! I can’t wait to get to know my readers/fellow bloggers! I have another blog that is doing pretty well and I have made some great ‘friends’. I got the itch to start a new one and we shall see if I can get it up and running!
If you are a wife, this blog might be for you.
If you are a mother, this blog might be for you.
If you are a state licensed childcare provider, this blog might be for you.
If you are in or approaching your 40’s this blog might be for you.
If you have teenagers, twenty somethings and HOLY SHIT a two year old, this blog might be for you.
If you try hard, (really hard) to sleep but can’t this blog might be for you.
If you you and your husband are BOTH self employed, this blog might be for you.
If you try to keep a clean house but can’t, this blog might be for you.
If you have 77 loads of laundry needing to be done, this blog might be for you.
If you have two practices and a game in one or all four of the sports your kids play, this blog might be for you.
If your not sure if you turned off the coffee pot, this blog might be for you.
If you have snot from another being on your thigh and a pile of dog puke to clean up yes this blog IS for you.
I keep my RX for Xanax filled and my wine rack stocked, though I don’t recommend the two together. I am not a doctor or responsible for any of the things you try or do. LOL.
I’m far from perfect. My husband is far from perfect. Our marriage is far from perfect, our kids are far from perfect but we try. Hard every single day.
Read along… I’m sure somewhere if you too are far from perfect you will fit right in and this blog might be for you.