It is Christmas Eve and in a few short hours, we will be on the road heading to my hometown to spend Christmas with my parents in the bungalow I grew up in and my sisters and their families and my brother and his family will all be there too.
Get out your abacus and count with me:
-2 grandparents PLUS
-4 adult children PLUS
-4 spouses of above adult children PLUS
-13 grandchildren
EQUALS: a grand total of 23 and the little people outnumber the adults by far.
WE'RE GOING TO NEED A LOT OF BOOZE.
I wish you health, happpiness and prosperity over the holiday season.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!
Friday, December 24, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
It's All About the Proper Pillow
Like you really needed motivation to gag, but another reason I love my husband is that he gets it that I MUST sleep with my flattened-at-the-corners pillow and with tidy-looking sheets and comforter pulled up to my chin.
On occasion, he dares to fall asleep ON TOP OF THE COMFORTER and if you know me at all you know the vision that sails through my head at that particular moment is one in which I've suffocated him with one of the six pillows hanging out on our marital bed. Why there are six pillows (eight actually if you count the two 'fancy' cushions) to begin with can cause a slight argument between us, but nothing that a round of hot marriage sex won't cure.
Back to the pillows...
Our bedding is black and white, so there is a pillow for sleeping on, and when the bed gets made, the sleeping-on-pillow is propped against the headboard, followed by the pillow in a plain black pillowcase, followed by the pillow in the white & black patterned pillow case, followed by the black with white patterened fancy cushion and then the pale lilac fancy schmancy cushion.
PERFECT. SENSE.
My husband often makes the bed and I appreciate this very much. (See reference to hot married sex, above.) However, it does happen that the sleeping-on pillows get mixed up and I end up with his. He thinks it's funny (most of the time) there are so many pillows on the bed and that I am very particular about which one I need to sleep on. He also thinks it's extremely annoying depending on the day.
Having said that, I can tell as soon as my head hits the pillow if I've got mine or his and if I have his, he rarely gets annoyed enough to be really pissed that I wake him up to switch them. Come to think of it, he doesn't even really wake up...he just lifts his head and I jam his pillow under his face, thereby averting the previously mentioned possible suffocation.
My husband is awesome even when he sleeps.
On occasion, he dares to fall asleep ON TOP OF THE COMFORTER and if you know me at all you know the vision that sails through my head at that particular moment is one in which I've suffocated him with one of the six pillows hanging out on our marital bed. Why there are six pillows (eight actually if you count the two 'fancy' cushions) to begin with can cause a slight argument between us, but nothing that a round of hot marriage sex won't cure.
Back to the pillows...
Our bedding is black and white, so there is a pillow for sleeping on, and when the bed gets made, the sleeping-on-pillow is propped against the headboard, followed by the pillow in a plain black pillowcase, followed by the pillow in the white & black patterned pillow case, followed by the black with white patterened fancy cushion and then the pale lilac fancy schmancy cushion.
PERFECT. SENSE.
My husband often makes the bed and I appreciate this very much. (See reference to hot married sex, above.) However, it does happen that the sleeping-on pillows get mixed up and I end up with his. He thinks it's funny (most of the time) there are so many pillows on the bed and that I am very particular about which one I need to sleep on. He also thinks it's extremely annoying depending on the day.
Having said that, I can tell as soon as my head hits the pillow if I've got mine or his and if I have his, he rarely gets annoyed enough to be really pissed that I wake him up to switch them. Come to think of it, he doesn't even really wake up...he just lifts his head and I jam his pillow under his face, thereby averting the previously mentioned possible suffocation.
My husband is awesome even when he sleeps.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Sick Fest 2010
We are a house of sickness - save for one - Derek-the-teenager - and I think it's because his hormones and teenage angst are protecting him like a heat-shield. Lucky shit.
I am trying to get over a nasty head cold, complete with sinus infection, sinus pain, headache and that irritating dry cough that makes you want to vomit the tickle in the back of your throat right into next year. It puts slicing the left base of my thumb right down to where I could see the bone into perspective. A head cold is way worse.
Danielle has a milder version of the above cold.
Olivia, who is just getting over (getting rid?) of the red, chapped mouth she's had for the last several weeks, and the nasty bump/bruise on her forehead from last week (she was rubbing her tired eyes and walked into our bedroom door...I definitely know this child is from my loins because she is a huge klutz like her mother), now has gross, whiteish looking goopy-pus-stuff coming out of the corners of her eyes. I'm experienced enough to know that it isn't (touch wood) pinkeye (at least not yet), and while I can deal with cleaning up kid vomit and diarrhea, eye-goop definitely makes me squeamish.
And then Jeff started puking his guts out last night. I know he was feeling awful because I heard actual moaning (and not the good kind!) coming from him. His entire body was wracked with pain, and in between trips to the bathroom and barfing in the garbage can every 20 minutes, well, let's say Mummy here got very little sleep. I don't know what your husband sounds like when he's upchucking, but mine? Let's just say that I think the hounds of hell were likely awakened by the noise and they were scared.
Gross.
Good wife that I am, though, I got out of bed each time to empty the can, rinse it out, refill it with fresh water (did you know that puke doesn't smell quite so awful if you add water to the bucket? It also makes rinsing it out that much easier. Far less sticky bits to deal with. I wonder if Martha Stewart knows this handy little tip? Maybe I'll give her a call...)
Oh, and to top everything off? I called the furnace guy at 10:00 p.m. last night because our heater stopped working and it's minus 20 degrees outside. Cha-ching! goes the service call....
So, between the baby and the hubby, and the 5:00 a.m. alarm, I calculate that I got about 23 minutes of sleep last night.
I might be a little bitchy today.
I am trying to get over a nasty head cold, complete with sinus infection, sinus pain, headache and that irritating dry cough that makes you want to vomit the tickle in the back of your throat right into next year. It puts slicing the left base of my thumb right down to where I could see the bone into perspective. A head cold is way worse.
Danielle has a milder version of the above cold.
Olivia, who is just getting over (getting rid?) of the red, chapped mouth she's had for the last several weeks, and the nasty bump/bruise on her forehead from last week (she was rubbing her tired eyes and walked into our bedroom door...I definitely know this child is from my loins because she is a huge klutz like her mother), now has gross, whiteish looking goopy-pus-stuff coming out of the corners of her eyes. I'm experienced enough to know that it isn't (touch wood) pinkeye (at least not yet), and while I can deal with cleaning up kid vomit and diarrhea, eye-goop definitely makes me squeamish.
And then Jeff started puking his guts out last night. I know he was feeling awful because I heard actual moaning (and not the good kind!) coming from him. His entire body was wracked with pain, and in between trips to the bathroom and barfing in the garbage can every 20 minutes, well, let's say Mummy here got very little sleep. I don't know what your husband sounds like when he's upchucking, but mine? Let's just say that I think the hounds of hell were likely awakened by the noise and they were scared.
Gross.
Good wife that I am, though, I got out of bed each time to empty the can, rinse it out, refill it with fresh water (did you know that puke doesn't smell quite so awful if you add water to the bucket? It also makes rinsing it out that much easier. Far less sticky bits to deal with. I wonder if Martha Stewart knows this handy little tip? Maybe I'll give her a call...)
Oh, and to top everything off? I called the furnace guy at 10:00 p.m. last night because our heater stopped working and it's minus 20 degrees outside. Cha-ching! goes the service call....
So, between the baby and the hubby, and the 5:00 a.m. alarm, I calculate that I got about 23 minutes of sleep last night.
I might be a little bitchy today.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Balance? Suck It...
Trying to find a sense of balance in my life is not a new theme and I bet it's something y'all are familiar with also. (And no, I'm not from the south, but I've always loved saying y'all just because I can.)
I'm working right now, in fact I went back to work mid-September and what I can say about that is that it's a government-type job. I can also say it's a contract that ends on December 31st. I will also divulge that this is the first time in my adult working life I've not been in a permanent job and while I'm at it, I'll confess that I'm really not enjoying the uncertainty.
There are people out there who flit from place to place and that's great for them if that is their comfort zone. It's not mine. I'm somewhat of a planner and with six of us at home to feed (my mother has been living with us for a few months and that's a post for another time), let's just say that my not having a job come January is a pretty scary feeling what with the little people sort of depending on there being food to eat. (Personally I see nothing wrong with letting them suck the meat off a porkchop bone and eating the slightly-wilted, but nonetheless okay-looking spinach and calling it a day. But nooooo, they want apples. And oranges. And cereal. And a glass of milk. I say, quit yer bitchin' and be happy you're not being force-fed mashed up lima beans Mummy's pretending is a casserole...)
But I digress....balance, right. I've already bored you with my daily routine which hasn't changed except that now there is the added excitement of navigating treacherous roads on my commute to and from work. I have tried at least 3 times in the past week or so to sit down at the kitchen table after the girls have gone to bed to do some crafts. That burst of energy lasts long enough for me to realize I just don't feel like emptying out the craft bin and setting everything up because by the time that's done, I've hit my wall and am eagerly eyeing my pajamas and the bed.
Maybe this weekend....except that Danielle has gymnastics, we need to drive to the cottage one last time and cover up the pontoon properly before winter really sets in, and we're still working on the basement.
If I really need to get my craft on, I guess I'll just draw some pretty flowers on the basement walls with the paintbrush roller. Or maybe I'll smoosh the mashed-up lima beans and call it "art".
I'm working right now, in fact I went back to work mid-September and what I can say about that is that it's a government-type job. I can also say it's a contract that ends on December 31st. I will also divulge that this is the first time in my adult working life I've not been in a permanent job and while I'm at it, I'll confess that I'm really not enjoying the uncertainty.
There are people out there who flit from place to place and that's great for them if that is their comfort zone. It's not mine. I'm somewhat of a planner and with six of us at home to feed (my mother has been living with us for a few months and that's a post for another time), let's just say that my not having a job come January is a pretty scary feeling what with the little people sort of depending on there being food to eat. (Personally I see nothing wrong with letting them suck the meat off a porkchop bone and eating the slightly-wilted, but nonetheless okay-looking spinach and calling it a day. But nooooo, they want apples. And oranges. And cereal. And a glass of milk. I say, quit yer bitchin' and be happy you're not being force-fed mashed up lima beans Mummy's pretending is a casserole...)
But I digress....balance, right. I've already bored you with my daily routine which hasn't changed except that now there is the added excitement of navigating treacherous roads on my commute to and from work. I have tried at least 3 times in the past week or so to sit down at the kitchen table after the girls have gone to bed to do some crafts. That burst of energy lasts long enough for me to realize I just don't feel like emptying out the craft bin and setting everything up because by the time that's done, I've hit my wall and am eagerly eyeing my pajamas and the bed.
Maybe this weekend....except that Danielle has gymnastics, we need to drive to the cottage one last time and cover up the pontoon properly before winter really sets in, and we're still working on the basement.
If I really need to get my craft on, I guess I'll just draw some pretty flowers on the basement walls with the paintbrush roller. Or maybe I'll smoosh the mashed-up lima beans and call it "art".
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