Yesterday was a good day. But when trying to recall where the time was spent I struggle. So I'm going to sit here and best I can, recount my day. Surely it will come to me as I type. Get ready, there will probably be more details than the average person has time for. I'm planning on printing this off in a size 24 font so that I can sit and read it when I am old. I'll have nothing much else to do other than read about what crazy things used to fill my days. Things like this:
Dear Diary,
My day started off at 5:00 A.M.
During my morning reading I came across this quote and wrote it down:
"Love and hurry are fundamentally incompatible. Love always takes time, and time is the one thing hurried people don't have."
ouch. I stared it: *need to remember not to hurry*
I also read: Be interruptible. Which means, "be willing to be inconvenienced."
That one got another star and a line in my notebook full of things I need to remember. Those came from a book I'm reading on neighboring. So far it's good. They told me to go meet my neighbors and then are giving me all kinds of reasons why it's important. I think they are right. Today I will attempt to meet one family I don't know. Maybe bake them a pie?
I took Jack to school. Then we headed to Home Depot and bought a dryer. Our dryer went out a couple days ago. This guy had been repaired twice already in the last two years (remember the deployment of '11, concurrent to the ice storm of '11?) and since the black Friday sales were already starting, we thought it best just to get a new one. I bought the five year warranty. I'll bet money we use it.
Since Mike flew the night before and was home sleeping we went over to play at some friends house for an hour. I walked in with a load of wet laundry and sure enough, my friend was gracious enough to let us use her dryer. The kids played, the clothes dried and I drank coffee. By and by, (yes, I'm bringing the phrase back) Austin fell off their slide. My friend went to get a wet rag for the blood then asked: "Does he have all his teeth?" --she's funny isn't she? She made up for her "funny" joke by giving him some Gatorade. He liked it. He asked for more --twice.
Home again, home again. Mike was up now. We walk in and Austin immediately pees his pants even though I had taken him potty right before putting him in the car for the 6 minute drive home. We change him. He pees again 4 minutes later. We change him, he does it again. This time I told him to get upstairs in the bathtub. I text my friend and thank her for her generosity with the Gatorade.
Austin gets a bath, but now we are out of pants and the dryer doesn't work. It will be several hours before the clean clothes line dry. Two shirts, undies and socks, maybe that will keep you warm enough. "Stay indoors." I tell him.
My next big accomplishment of the day was to organize some cords behind the entertainment system (no one make fun of me). Brady spends most of his awake time chewing on cords and I've been trying to come up with another pastime for him. In my digging and pulling I discover that White Phone Line (Brady's best friend) is actually not connected to anything. It runs along our living room wall for no reason at all. I pull that sucker out and get rid of him. Poor Brady didn't even get to say "Goodbye." For a moment there I felt like a really good mom. But who am I kidding? White Phone Line was just a gateway cord. I'm sure he'll move up to the hard stuff like coaxial or even HDMI. sigh... I'm imagining I know how moms of crack addicts feel. "Where did I go wrong?" We all ask.
Next I vacuumed under the table. I think I need to accept that this will be a daily chore, I used to think I could go two, maybe three days without doing it (assuming company isn't coming over). It's so nasty under there that I think this needs to be priority #1 in my housecleaning duties. This is my punishment for getting rid of the dogs.
During nap time Ty and I make a pie for the neighbors. We are going to be pro-active and live out this faith. Next stop meeting a neighbor. Yes!
Last chore/spend time with Ty and make him think we are having fun was filling up the lawn mower cart full of the leaves we raked last week. They have been jumped in, driven through, rolled over and now they were good and ready for the compost pile. Ty and I piled into our 12 cubic ft. cart three loads full. There were still two loads left! We will have to finish those later.
The pie burned.
Even with foil the middle wasn't done until the edges were burned.
I pull it out of the oven, but now it's time to get Jack.
I drive up to his school, as I get closer I see that the place is crawling with Pilgrims and Indians, all of them somewhat wild. He climbed into my van looking like this:
Don't worry about the grumpy looking kid in the background. He was scooped up in the middle of his nap and placed in a car seat without any pants. I'd say he has every right to wear that face.
Back to my little pilgrim. I ask if he was William Bradford. I got a blank look. He said his teacher decided who would be Pilgrims and who would be Indians. He would have liked to be an Indian and if so he would have been Squanto. "Did you know he went to England several times?" I'd forgotten. What few brain cells I have left have been dedicated to remembering where I last saw the magic eraser not Squanto's transatlantic adventures.
I asked if he had eaten a Thanksgiving feast. He said, "Yes! I had pumpkin pie, cheddar cheese and 100% juice."
Sounds good to me.
Back home again we changed some diapers then hauled a couple loads of leaves to the compost pile before cleaning up and heading over to some friends home for dinner. The drive over was spent singing Jesus songs, yelling, telling on people for yelling: "Ty, we are singing songs about Jesus. God wants us to be serious." The heavy metal screaming of the lyrics continues. "Mom!!! Make him stop! God doesn't want us to be rude when we are worshiping him!!" --oh the irony*.
*Remember to teach them what hypocrisy is
I turned off the music we devoted the rest of the ride to manners rehearsal.
"Ty, What do you say when you are given your dinner?" I ask.
"Thank you." Ty correctly responds.
"Ty, what do you say when you are given your dinner and you don't like any of it?" Let's see how he handles this one.
Without skipping a beat he responds with: "Thank you."
He nailed. I'm so proud.
However, right before we ate, when I was filling his plate he loudly exclaims, "Mom, I don't like any of those vegetables!"
Oh well.
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