Sunday, April 26, 2009

Reassurance.


Tell me I'm not alone here. Could it really BE any grosser?

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Observations from behind the mower

I mowed the yard today for the second time in my entire life. I figured out a couple of weeks ago how many calories it burned, and man, I was so on it. Today was the first day that I was able to get out there with Sarge and mow. Here's what I observed:

1. You earn every one of those darn calories. Every. One.

2. My yard has a hill. All these years I've lived here, I've always thought of my yard as flat. I'm here to tell you today that there's a huge hill back there in poo corner. HUGE.

3. No matter how well you think you do cleaning up poo corner, you always miss one. Or two.

4. I know why Sarge has a yard mowing pair of shoes. See #3.

5. I will never laugh at Sarge again for hitting the bird houses with his head every week. I swear, every time I cut his hair, he has a new gash in the top of his head from those things. I laugh and make fun of him, because, you know, haven't they been there for three years, in the same places? I managed to hit all three of them.

6. It's time for a mower redesign. I swear, it's the same design my dad used back when he used to mow the yard a LONG time ago. Push the button, pull the cord. Pull the cord again. Pull. Say a curse word. Pull twice more and go. And then the handle and the fence and the four fixed wheels, it's all just so awkward. MR. DYSON, I'M TALKING TO YOU AND YOUR BALL TECHNOLOGY.

7. Next time I'm totally going for a cool design in my grass like the baseball fields. Sarge says that I should just aim for straight lines, but I say shoot for the stars!

8. I smell like gasoline and grass. And I itch.

Friday, April 17, 2009

A day in the life

If you saw me in the last two weeks and it looked like I hadn't combed my hair or looked at my face, it's because I hadn't. There were noisy critters living inside my house above my bathroom and it was all I could do to get a shower and get out of there before I started screaming like a little girl and dancing like I had ants in my pants.

I love my dogs more than I love my dinner plates, which is a lot, and which is evidenced by the fact that both dogs are still alive even though when I came in from helping eradicate the giant bird's nest from my dryer vent there was a broken plate on the floor and not one speck of chicken anywhere around it and all the 342 pieces it was shattered into.

And it was birds living above my bathroom. I think I might like them less than mice, but maybe not. We'll see who's harder to permanently get rid of.

And thank goodness for the ten year old who came up with the idea for the rigged ten foot pole that we created to eradicate said bird's nest with two pieces of wood, a hanger and half a roll of painters tape. If only we could have found the duct tape...

And pre-view Marley and Me before you sit down with your children to watch it. Because you need to be prepared to answer questions about the entire cycle of life. Let's just say frisky adults, three babies, one nicknamed 'whoops' and a dead dog. It's ripe with questions from children aged 6-10. I'm just sayin'.

My dog has lived with us for almost a month, and he looked at me curiously when I was unloading the dishwasher, like he's never seen me do such a thing before. Weird.

I'd like to thank all my friends and family for being so sweet about me losing weight. And for biting their tongues for all those years when I was gaining it and not saying, "so, hibernation this winter?" or "worried about the food supply going away?" or "eating for two still?" Ahem. You know you wanted to.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Adorably quirky

When Sarge and I were first dating, I was living in an apartment in Boston with three other girls. We were in college, but for all of us, it was our first time with our own kitchen. We loved to cook and bake.

And of course, when my new boyfriend came over, I just LOVED to bake for him. Because, you know, that's what you are supposed to do. But it never failed, I always forgot an ingredient. And usually didn't discover that I didn't have the ingredient until I was ready to use that ingredient. Sarge would laugh and then trot down four flights of stairs to the convenience store and purchase the ingredient that I'd forgotten.

It became a joke. Ha, ha, what are you going to forget this time? I'd insist that I had all the ingredients. But then wouldn't have something essential. It always happened. Sarge, because it was all still fresh and new, found it mildly irritating, but I'm sure thought it was adorable. Because you know when everything is fresh and new, quirks are adorable.

Fast forward fifteen years. I have a kitchen of my own, which is usually well enough stocked, but I also have grown up neighbors that actually have eggs, not like the people in college who have beer and ketchup in their refrigerators. So he doesn't even usually know when I forget an ingredient anymore.

BUT. My cute and adorable quirk has transferred to my work. I can't get to a person's house to hang their curtains and have all the ingredients I need to hang them. Usually the item that I need is something that I knew I would need, just didn't manage to remember it before I got there. And of course, who do I call to rescue me? Sarge.

I'm pretty sure he doesn't find it cute and adorable anymore. He had to rescue me from myself twice yesterday. My client said to him, "She's very impressive with her skills with tools!" and he replied, deadpan, "She'd be more impressive if she could just remember them."

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Time Flies.

We are officially step-stool free in this house.


There are three step stools, and they are all put away in closets. I'm considering freecycling them, but then I think maybe, just maybe, I could fit them into their baby books. Doesn't seem like they'd be lumpy at all.

And I never thought I'd feel sentimental about two IKEA step stools and one made from scraps of wood and stained blue that once held several pairs of underwear that were making my bathroom smell. But here I am, feeling just a little sad over the fact that all my kids can reach the soap from their own two feet. Now whether or not they actually do is another story.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Like an old married couple


They line up for the dinner buffet together before five PM.


They nap together in the afternoons.


They bicker, but one can't be found without the other.


He cleans off her face if she has a little dinner left, or he'll clean her ears whether they need it or not.
Two weeks. I never, ever would have thought.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Bad habits my new dog will break me of

Leaving socks on the floor.

Leaving anything else on the floor.

Leaving shoes outside.

Not cleaning the muddy dogprints off the patio table.

Saying, "I'll just take the dog for a walk tomorrow."

Eating on the couch.

Eating anywhere except the kitchen table.

Wearing clothes with dangly strings.

Sitting down. Ever.