Exactly when are you supposed to do everything you are supposed to do? That is the struggle I'm in right now.
At work, I have a pretty good idea of how long each of my required tasks take to do. Factor in the constant phone calls and court appearances that run long and I still can keep my work in a manageable pile.
At home, I have other issues. Specifically, two. Amanda and Luke. When we were a household of two adults and one kid, Saturday mornings were cleaning days and catch up days. Cindy was of the mind set that you work your tail off on Saturday morning (after yard sale-ing, of course) and then the rest of the weekend was free for the fun stuff. My idea was to eventually get stuff done on Saturday or Sunday, and enjoy a restful, leisurely weekend even while working. I'll admit that was a source of friction.
I wish I had that friction now, because it would mean something is getting done around here. With those two issues that I mentioned earlier, I can’t do much more than a 5 minute meal and a quickly swiped table. Clothes are getting done - from 10pm to 1am - most weeks. Vacuuming is done as warranted. Toys are picked up when stepped on. The cat is fed when she tells me she needs it. (She has a self-feeding and water bowl.) Wal-mart is visited immediately after work or with kids in tow on the weekends.
There’s something that guys enjoy after work. Cave time. I have heard psychologists say that we men are genetically predisposed to need a time after our "hunt" to change over to a "home-life" mentality. I am definitely one of those guys. As my life is going now - my "cave" time doesn’t happen until after the kids go to bed at 8pm. Unfortunately, 8pm is also when my body says... "Enough for today!" I know I need to stop listening to my body and do the stuff I need to do... but it’s hard to change what your body has been telling you for all these years.
I don’t want a flock of people helping me. I don’t want to need any help, either. I don’t even want sympathy. I don’t want this mess. I don’t want all this stuff everywhere. Of course, if this house had some closet space it would make life easier!
I do want Ty to come and give me a new, gigantic, clean house.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Clean Up In Green Aisle
For those of you who have known me in my previous life, this blog might sound like a repeat of a past "Howerton & Co." or "K & J Show". Those were the names of the morning shows I hosted during my days in small market Christian radio. Those were the days of early mornings, long days, little pay, and freebies you really didn’t want, but snagged anyway. (Spam logo’d T-shirt which I still wear!) I had said when I started this blog, I would not always be deep or profound, or Biblical. I’ve had enough of the heavy emotional stuff for a while. I will get back to that - I’m sure. It seems that stuff is never too far from me these days.
I proposed on the radio show what I thought were great ideas in response to certain shall I say "peculiarities" that occur in the male brain. Those ideas have recently been expanded now that I, singularly, have to do household chores.
First, my clothes dryer drives me crazy. There’s a setting called Automatic Dry-Miser. Apparently it is a "Push START and let it figure out when to stop" setting. Why then does it have variable settings like "More Dry" and "Less Dry"? Isn’t "Dry" good enough? Isn’t the definition of dry the absence of wetness? How in the world can you then have dry but with wetness? I guess with a name like "dryer" the next question should be "dryer than what?" Here’s an idea. One setting: "Make Clothes Dry".
One of my long-standing ideas, which Cindy thought was totally ridiculous but made some sense, was to have grocery stores and Wal-Mart arrange their merchandise by the color of the product. A White section - Light bulbs, TP, Milk, White-Out, copy paper, cottage cheese, tennis shoe strings, etc. A Yellow section with Post-It’s, Bananas, hazzard tape, Dummy’s Books, manilla folders, etc. A Black section with tires, tv components, some picture frames. You get the idea. Then, the floor could be painted with colored stripes that could lead you to the area where you need to shop. I know it’s not practical, but you sure could find stuff faster!
There are a couple more things that have been bugging me lately - maybe I am just over-sensitive to things right now. Maybe being alone and having lots of free time to think about stuff has made me more keen to annoyances. Maybe I just think of stupid ideas way too much.
One of the things I loved about Cindy was how she would listen intently to my most stupid of ideas and then say, "You’re an idiot." And, then we’d laugh because I knew she was right. That was why she loved me - my "peculiarities".
(On the sickness front, I am feeling much better now - thanks for all of the concern and prayers.)
I proposed on the radio show what I thought were great ideas in response to certain shall I say "peculiarities" that occur in the male brain. Those ideas have recently been expanded now that I, singularly, have to do household chores.
First, my clothes dryer drives me crazy. There’s a setting called Automatic Dry-Miser. Apparently it is a "Push START and let it figure out when to stop" setting. Why then does it have variable settings like "More Dry" and "Less Dry"? Isn’t "Dry" good enough? Isn’t the definition of dry the absence of wetness? How in the world can you then have dry but with wetness? I guess with a name like "dryer" the next question should be "dryer than what?" Here’s an idea. One setting: "Make Clothes Dry".
One of my long-standing ideas, which Cindy thought was totally ridiculous but made some sense, was to have grocery stores and Wal-Mart arrange their merchandise by the color of the product. A White section - Light bulbs, TP, Milk, White-Out, copy paper, cottage cheese, tennis shoe strings, etc. A Yellow section with Post-It’s, Bananas, hazzard tape, Dummy’s Books, manilla folders, etc. A Black section with tires, tv components, some picture frames. You get the idea. Then, the floor could be painted with colored stripes that could lead you to the area where you need to shop. I know it’s not practical, but you sure could find stuff faster!
There are a couple more things that have been bugging me lately - maybe I am just over-sensitive to things right now. Maybe being alone and having lots of free time to think about stuff has made me more keen to annoyances. Maybe I just think of stupid ideas way too much.
One of the things I loved about Cindy was how she would listen intently to my most stupid of ideas and then say, "You’re an idiot." And, then we’d laugh because I knew she was right. That was why she loved me - my "peculiarities".
(On the sickness front, I am feeling much better now - thanks for all of the concern and prayers.)
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
I'm Sorry, It Is The Moops
I can’t believe that it is already 2009.
I still remember doing a chalk drawing in grade school depicting what I thought it would be like in the year 2000. 2000 was 9 years ago and that Van Gogh was done around 1980 and was hung at the University Mall. That was back when THE MALL had that big round fountain. I miss that fountain - and the organ player - and the cafeteria - and the A&W Root beer store. Anyway, my picture was straight out of a scene of the Jetsons with flying bubble cars, bubbles over the buildings and bubbles over the town. I was apparently into bubbles and why in the world do I still remember that!!!
Anyway, it’s been 29 years since I did that picture and I remember it vividly. I also have been remembering Cindy in vivid ways. Every so often - sometimes at home, sometimes at work, but thankfully not at court, yet - I get a vivid picture or memory of Cindy. Some of the memories are of her just prior to her death. Some of them are of her at home with her "big girl". Some of them are of when she was sitting on the edge of the bed for hours - just sitting because nothing else felt any better. I even had a flashback of me changing the gauze around her renal catheter that was sticking out of her back. She liked the way I changed it much better than the nurses because, like with a Christmas present, I used a lot of tape. It’s kinda weird. I covered that gauze with plastic so she could shower and changed that gauze every day on my lunch hour for nearly 3 months but I only remembered it yesterday for the first time in 2 months.
Some vivid memories are better than others. I hope I can remember those good ones 29 years later. Maybe if we had blown more bubbles.
(Title is a reference to Seinfeld's Bubble Boy episode.)
I still remember doing a chalk drawing in grade school depicting what I thought it would be like in the year 2000. 2000 was 9 years ago and that Van Gogh was done around 1980 and was hung at the University Mall. That was back when THE MALL had that big round fountain. I miss that fountain - and the organ player - and the cafeteria - and the A&W Root beer store. Anyway, my picture was straight out of a scene of the Jetsons with flying bubble cars, bubbles over the buildings and bubbles over the town. I was apparently into bubbles and why in the world do I still remember that!!!
Anyway, it’s been 29 years since I did that picture and I remember it vividly. I also have been remembering Cindy in vivid ways. Every so often - sometimes at home, sometimes at work, but thankfully not at court, yet - I get a vivid picture or memory of Cindy. Some of the memories are of her just prior to her death. Some of them are of her at home with her "big girl". Some of them are of when she was sitting on the edge of the bed for hours - just sitting because nothing else felt any better. I even had a flashback of me changing the gauze around her renal catheter that was sticking out of her back. She liked the way I changed it much better than the nurses because, like with a Christmas present, I used a lot of tape. It’s kinda weird. I covered that gauze with plastic so she could shower and changed that gauze every day on my lunch hour for nearly 3 months but I only remembered it yesterday for the first time in 2 months.
Some vivid memories are better than others. I hope I can remember those good ones 29 years later. Maybe if we had blown more bubbles.
(Title is a reference to Seinfeld's Bubble Boy episode.)
Monday, January 5, 2009
What A Combo!
I have not had a lot of creative energy (or any kind of energy) to compose a blog entry the last two days. I woke up sick Sunday at 1:30am. I will spare you the quite gory details, but needless to say - I didn’t go to work today and tomorrow is not looking good either. I understand that most people are getting over this stomach flu in a couple of days. With my compromised immune system, it normally takes me a little longer to fight off illnesses.
Luke is really starting to talk. He is still only doing one word at a time in most cases. However, tonight he did put two words together as I was rocking him to sleep. I can only imagine that he heard them from me. I bet when I carry him down the hall, to go downstairs, past the wall of family pictures - he learned to put these two words together: "Momma died."
Luke is really starting to talk. He is still only doing one word at a time in most cases. However, tonight he did put two words together as I was rocking him to sleep. I can only imagine that he heard them from me. I bet when I carry him down the hall, to go downstairs, past the wall of family pictures - he learned to put these two words together: "Momma died."
Friday, January 2, 2009
How Come You Ask So Many Questions?
How come when you drink chocolate milk you feel like you are 12 again?
How come when you pass a car that’s identical to yours, you feel a bond with that other driver?
How come a sandwich made by someone else always tastes better?
How come those great TV shows of the ‘80s really don’t seem that great when you watch them now?
How come meeting new people is a great way to make life interesting but is so hard to do?
How come once you have kids you stop seeing your friends?
How come kids are devilish one minute and angelic the next when nothing is observed to have really precipitated the cataclysmic change? (Thesaurus is working!)
How come TV watching became complicated?
How come when you are alone everyone else seems to have an abundance of fun stuff to do?
How come when you allow your kids to stay up late one night, the next day’s bad behavior makes the previous night’s fun completely not worth it?
How come you don’t truly appreciate someone until they are gone?
How come God’s master plan is not better revealed to Christians?
How come when you pass a car that’s identical to yours, you feel a bond with that other driver?
How come a sandwich made by someone else always tastes better?
How come those great TV shows of the ‘80s really don’t seem that great when you watch them now?
How come meeting new people is a great way to make life interesting but is so hard to do?
How come once you have kids you stop seeing your friends?
How come kids are devilish one minute and angelic the next when nothing is observed to have really precipitated the cataclysmic change? (Thesaurus is working!)
How come TV watching became complicated?
How come when you are alone everyone else seems to have an abundance of fun stuff to do?
How come when you allow your kids to stay up late one night, the next day’s bad behavior makes the previous night’s fun completely not worth it?
How come you don’t truly appreciate someone until they are gone?
How come God’s master plan is not better revealed to Christians?
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Ba Bye 2008
"Hey 2008... Yeah, I’m talking to you. Why don’t you come a little closer so I can tell you a thing or two. What? You scared? You should be.
As far as years go... you sucked. Nothing you did was right. You just put in your time, and I sure didn’t see any effort. You just laid around waiting until the end of the month. Oh, you think working one extra day in February will get you some street cred? Think again. You were a punk and will always be a punk.
Some years, like your cousin 2001, didn’t have much of a choice but to go out crying after starting off pretty well. This year? What do you have to be proud of? A crappy election that’s not even over 2 months later, a couple of wars, floods, meltdowns in all the markets around the world, I lost half my retirement like everyone else, the governor in my fine state is an arrested loon, and um... oh yeah, my best friend in the whole world died.
You have nothing to be proud of. Don’t let the door hit you where the leap year shines.
Good riddance."
As far as years go... you sucked. Nothing you did was right. You just put in your time, and I sure didn’t see any effort. You just laid around waiting until the end of the month. Oh, you think working one extra day in February will get you some street cred? Think again. You were a punk and will always be a punk.
Some years, like your cousin 2001, didn’t have much of a choice but to go out crying after starting off pretty well. This year? What do you have to be proud of? A crappy election that’s not even over 2 months later, a couple of wars, floods, meltdowns in all the markets around the world, I lost half my retirement like everyone else, the governor in my fine state is an arrested loon, and um... oh yeah, my best friend in the whole world died.
You have nothing to be proud of. Don’t let the door hit you where the leap year shines.
Good riddance."
Monday, December 29, 2008
Routine Smootine
I know I have previously mentioned on my blog that I work best within a routine. I think most people do. Even those that seem to excel when their life’s a whirlwind would admit they are better within a routine.
How are you supposed to have a routine when your oldest wakes you at 4:30am screaming of a tummy ache only to puke 15 minutes later which wakes up your 20 mo old? And then again 30 minutes later after that while screaming "I HATE THIS" over and over and over? And then again 2 hours later after you have been giving her the "sure fire anti-hurl" home remedy?
Of course, I did bring this all on myself. Yesterday I went to the grave-side service of the mother of a close friend and ended up meeting my friend’s best bud. She was telling me that she had been up since 4:30am with her two puking kids. I said that I had been pretty lucky that my kids had been clear of that so far. There was no wood to knock on at the cemetery. I really wish there had been.
How are you supposed to have a routine when your oldest wakes you at 4:30am screaming of a tummy ache only to puke 15 minutes later which wakes up your 20 mo old? And then again 30 minutes later after that while screaming "I HATE THIS" over and over and over? And then again 2 hours later after you have been giving her the "sure fire anti-hurl" home remedy?
Of course, I did bring this all on myself. Yesterday I went to the grave-side service of the mother of a close friend and ended up meeting my friend’s best bud. She was telling me that she had been up since 4:30am with her two puking kids. I said that I had been pretty lucky that my kids had been clear of that so far. There was no wood to knock on at the cemetery. I really wish there had been.
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