My standards are slipping lately. This is solely because I have not enough time or sleep and entirely too-awake children. Charlie is still up every three or four hours at night. Cubby is still resisting sleep both for naps and bedtime. Sometimes he skips his nap. Sometimes it takes an hour of drama to get him to sleep at night. Sometimes I want to do a runner and not come back for a week or so.
But since that's not really an option, the following are a few things on which I have conceded defeat:
1) Bribery. Specifically of the "Finish your dinner and you can have a ginger snap" variety. This has been standard for parents for time immemorial, I know, but was never necessary before with Cubby. Now? Now I just want that kid to have some food in his stomach to stave off the "You're* hungry!" announcement during the bedtime battle.
2) Screen time. Oh, how I hate that phrase. You know what it means, right? The hours of television or computer time a child has in a day. I tried pretty hard to limit that for a really long time, and it's still quite limited, but now I am SO RELIEVED when Cubby consents to sit down and watch "Curious George" for half an hour. Because that is a half hour in which I only have to deal with the baby and not baby+toddler. And so I am grateful to that annoying little monkey cartoon for that half an hour. Also, these DVDs my mom sent with episodes all about car wreckers and sawmills and other machine things are pretty much Cubby's favorite thing ever and THANK YOU, Nana, for the guaranteed distraction.
3) Disposable diapers. We never had to use these when Cubby was a baby, but for some reason, the only thing that usually keeps Charlie dry at night is a disposable diaper WITH a cloth diaper cover over the top. I tried every combination possible and everything else results in a soaking-wet and awake baby. And I do not need that baby awake any more than he already is. I hate having to pay for diapers and I hate having to take them to the dump, but I hate being awake all night even more.
4) Monotonous food. We've been eating a lot of hamburgers and omelets lately. Because they are fast and easy and don't require prior planning. I'm pretty tired of hamburgers, but then, I'm pretty tired in general.
5) Personal appearance. As I was sitting on the couch last night with Charlie, listening to A. wage the Cubby bedtime battle upstairs, the MiL remarked that the soles of my feet--visible because I had my feet up on the coffee table--were looking pretty rough. I had to laugh at that, because that is the LEAST of my concerns when it comes to my appearance. My sartorial choices these days are based entirely on what is cool enough and easy to nurse in. Which is why I am currently wearing one of A.'s shirts over a nursing tank top that is way past its prime. It is not a good look, but I really don't care.
Sometimes good enough is all you can hope for.
* His pronouns are still hit or miss.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
He's Worse Than the Dogs
I was outside picking up bits and pieces of shingles this morning* while Cubby wandered around on the lawn outside the kitchen door when I heard, "That's something gross."
These are not words you want to hear from the mouth of your two-year-old. Especially when that two-year-old is coming towards you with something in his hands. When he got close enough, I identified it.
It was a dead mouse with its head chewed off.
GROOOOOSSSSS.
I immediately told him to drop it, of course. Then I herded him inside to wash his hands, in the meantime explaining that it's really not a good idea to pick up dead animals with your hands.
And now, to get the image of a toddler running around with a headless mouse out of your head, I will leave you with this:
* Remnants of the roofing job that is THANK GOD FINALLY done. Yay for A.!
These are not words you want to hear from the mouth of your two-year-old. Especially when that two-year-old is coming towards you with something in his hands. When he got close enough, I identified it.
It was a dead mouse with its head chewed off.
GROOOOOSSSSS.
I immediately told him to drop it, of course. Then I herded him inside to wash his hands, in the meantime explaining that it's really not a good idea to pick up dead animals with your hands.
And now, to get the image of a toddler running around with a headless mouse out of your head, I will leave you with this:
Smiling babies make everything better.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
A Very Rude Awakening
Know what's a most unpleasant way to start the day? Catapulting out of bed from a sound sleep at 6 a.m. because of a pounding on the front door. I nearly had a heart attack.
At least it was just a very nice lady informing me that the sheep had been by the road. Better than an angry truck driver or something, anyway. She was so nice that she said she had herded them ahead of her up the driveway with her car so they were by the house. She was also incredibly chipper considering the early hour.
Probably because she hadn't had to get up four times the night before to feed a baby.
ANYWAY.
I rousted out the shepherd to round up the sheep. Then Cubby came running into our bedroom, Charlie woke up, and the circus began again.
Good morning to all!
At least it was just a very nice lady informing me that the sheep had been by the road. Better than an angry truck driver or something, anyway. She was so nice that she said she had herded them ahead of her up the driveway with her car so they were by the house. She was also incredibly chipper considering the early hour.
Probably because she hadn't had to get up four times the night before to feed a baby.
ANYWAY.
I rousted out the shepherd to round up the sheep. Then Cubby came running into our bedroom, Charlie woke up, and the circus began again.
Good morning to all!
Monday, September 3, 2012
For My Sister-in-Law
Who, according to my mother, thinks that all Charlie does is sleep. And based on the photos I post here, I can't blame her for thinking that.
Allow me to correct that misconception.
Sleep? What? I'm wide awake and ready to rock!
This is me rocking.
And this is me screaming. Another fun alternative to sleep.
Uh oh. Cue Jaws music. The toddler has found the baby.
And will now proceed to snuffle his head and yell, "What's the matter, baby!" two centimeters from the quite-calm baby's eyes.
So you see, there's not as much sleeping going on around here as it might appear. Just ask the black circles under my eyes.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Reclamation
I may have mentioned a time or two this summer how sad the garden has been. Sad for me, that is. Those goddamn rabbits seem to have been pretty happy in there. But me? Not so happy.
I haven't even posted any photos. If I had, what you would have seen was almost the entire garden space (and that is a REALLY BIG space) covered in weeds literally as high as my head. Sometimes higher. Plus that evil ground cover weed with the little white flowers that just takes over. Really. It was a garden of gigantic weeds. It was awful.
After some good rain a couple of weeks ago, I started the long process of reclaiming the garden by yanking out the tall weeds. Mostly pigweed, with . . . some others I can't identify. I pulled them out by the roots, sometimes digging them up with a shovel if they were really enormous and too big to yank up by hand. I spent HOURS pulling weeds, cramping my hands and crippling my already-taxed back. They were so big and numerous that I just pulled them and threw them into a pile, figuring I would dispose of them later.
Then A. tilled where the potatoes had been and I raked the weeds left behind into yet more piles.
The piles grew and grew and I started to wonder how the hell I was going to get all those weeds into the gully. Many of them had already set seeds before I pulled them, so there was basically a huge pile of weed seeds in the middle of the garden. I didn't want to pick them up and have all those dried seeds get scattered all over.
And then I had my inspiration: fire.
Yes. Cleansing, purifying flames. Burn those bastards to the ground. So yesterday afternoon, A. lit the piles of weeds on fire. It was a beautiful sight. Let the smoke take away the failures of 2012 and leave us with a brand new garden for next year.
There's lots left to do, more weeds to pull and burn, tilling to be done, cover crops to be sown. But we've started the process and that makes me feel much, MUCH better.
I haven't even posted any photos. If I had, what you would have seen was almost the entire garden space (and that is a REALLY BIG space) covered in weeds literally as high as my head. Sometimes higher. Plus that evil ground cover weed with the little white flowers that just takes over. Really. It was a garden of gigantic weeds. It was awful.
After some good rain a couple of weeks ago, I started the long process of reclaiming the garden by yanking out the tall weeds. Mostly pigweed, with . . . some others I can't identify. I pulled them out by the roots, sometimes digging them up with a shovel if they were really enormous and too big to yank up by hand. I spent HOURS pulling weeds, cramping my hands and crippling my already-taxed back. They were so big and numerous that I just pulled them and threw them into a pile, figuring I would dispose of them later.
Then A. tilled where the potatoes had been and I raked the weeds left behind into yet more piles.
The piles grew and grew and I started to wonder how the hell I was going to get all those weeds into the gully. Many of them had already set seeds before I pulled them, so there was basically a huge pile of weed seeds in the middle of the garden. I didn't want to pick them up and have all those dried seeds get scattered all over.
And then I had my inspiration: fire.
Yes. Cleansing, purifying flames. Burn those bastards to the ground. So yesterday afternoon, A. lit the piles of weeds on fire. It was a beautiful sight. Let the smoke take away the failures of 2012 and leave us with a brand new garden for next year.
There's lots left to do, more weeds to pull and burn, tilling to be done, cover crops to be sown. But we've started the process and that makes me feel much, MUCH better.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Harvest Time
Despite the general suckage of the garden this year, it is still time to start harvesting things. Things like tomatoes, potatoes, and two random volunteer butternut squashes, which Cubby and I gathered up this morning.
Also things like the Seckel pears from the tree in the paddock. But first, A. had to get rid of the possum the dogs killed last night that was lying next to the pear tree.
No, that is not a joke. And yes, it did freak me out, because you know how possums will play, uh, possum? I'm always convinced they're not really dead, but rather pretending so I can get close enough so they can leap up and attach themselves to my face.
ANYWAY.
After A. disposed of the definitely-dead possum, the whole happy family commenced pear harvesting.
Okay, so A. actually did most of it. But the rest of us were there for moral support.
Cubby, while enthused by the idea, was not really so much a help with the actual harvesting, due to his insistence that he eat all the pears. Even though I kept telling him they were too hard (pears actually finish ripening off the tree), he kept pulling pears out, gnawing on them for a couple of minutes, then tossing them away because--SURPRISE!--they were too hard.
Luckily, there were still plenty of pears left despite this annoying habit.
Oh, and there was a ladybug.
Charlie was also not much help, since he was busy doing . . . well, what Charlie does.
When tummy time becomes nap time.
When the pears are actually soft in a couple of weeks, I'll probably end up making them into pear sauce and freezing it. And giving them to Cubby to eat, of course. But only WHEN THEY'RE SOFT, CHILD.
Kids.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
The Best Hostess Gift Ever
You will forgive my silence here, I am sure, when I tell you that my sister and her family arrived on Sunday for a brief visit that ended today. My sister is a frequent visitor to Blackrock--although, considering her activities during previous visits, I really can't imagine why--but her husband and daughter have never had the dubious pleasure of a visit to our lakeside estate*.
They made themselves immediately popular, however, by showing up with a cooler of food. Specifically, three pounds of carne asada, a dozen green corn tamales, and salsa from their favorite Mexican restaurant. Well then! Come on in! And come back anytime!
In return, I sent them home with three quarts of pears (for my sister), a quart of pickled jalapenos (for my brother-in-law), a pint of strawberry-rhubarb jam (for my niece), and about a quart of pesto (for all three of them and fifty of their closest friends), the last of which they helped me make.
I'm not sure it was a fair trade on my end, but all parties seemed pleased with the arrangement.
* The only labor I required of them was harvesting tomatoes and stripping basil branches for me. So maybe they'll actually come back. My niece also spent much of her time playing with Cubby, which was just about the best thing ever. He already misses his fun cousin. Adults are so boring.
They made themselves immediately popular, however, by showing up with a cooler of food. Specifically, three pounds of carne asada, a dozen green corn tamales, and salsa from their favorite Mexican restaurant. Well then! Come on in! And come back anytime!
In return, I sent them home with three quarts of pears (for my sister), a quart of pickled jalapenos (for my brother-in-law), a pint of strawberry-rhubarb jam (for my niece), and about a quart of pesto (for all three of them and fifty of their closest friends), the last of which they helped me make.
I'm not sure it was a fair trade on my end, but all parties seemed pleased with the arrangement.
* The only labor I required of them was harvesting tomatoes and stripping basil branches for me. So maybe they'll actually come back. My niece also spent much of her time playing with Cubby, which was just about the best thing ever. He already misses his fun cousin. Adults are so boring.
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