–We have finally broken down and hired a housekeeper to come once a month and help me with the entropy created by living in a house with two adults, two small children, and a host of miscreant cats. I am embarrassed to admit I need. I am embarrassed that I am embarrassed I need help, which is a stupid meta-situation in and of itself. I know exactly how dumb this sounds. I can just hear Xzibit, king of inserting questionable situations inside other situations, in all his holy wisdom, saying, “Yo Dawg, I heard you are embarrassed about being embarrassed to hire a house cleaner. You can’t do everything by yourself. You are not superwoman. Also, you have a chronic illness, so you lack the qualifications to be super. Let me know when you want me to put a car inside your car. This has been a special message from Xzibit.” At first felt like a defeat to even consider a housekeeper. Why don’t I have this taken care of? I only barely work outside the home. I should be able to handle this all by myself! But I couldn’t and I can’t, not well, anyway, and things kept getting left undone and since being at home with the kids means I’m making messes at home with the kids, the house got out of hand. The housekeeper seems like an angelic blessing, like Christmas for me, really, to not have to try to do everything all at once while my kids make messes next to me and I try to function on too little sleep. When she left I spread my arms wide and spun around the living room like Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music and my face got all wet for some reason.
–In addition to Elias rebelling against naptime, the kids have just been cah-razy lately. I left the kitchen for barely a moment and when I returned Isobel was chanting DRINK IT DRINK IT DRINK IT DRINK IT and she and Elias were tossing packages of ramen through the cat door. Another night Isobel was calmly working on crafts while I was unloading the dishwasher. Elias is fascinated by the dishwasher so my attention was consumed with putting things away while preventing his chubby body from diving headfirst into the drying rack.”I’m going to show you a magic trick!” she said, excitedly. “Ta da!” I looked over to find she had covered her hands in glue.
–Sometimes I think the constant questions, especially the mind-numbing amounts of “Why?” will never end. The natural curiosity of children is one of the most beautiful wonders of the Universe, but that feeling doesn’t extend to me explaining something for the fifth time and still being met with a chorus of Why? Last night the chorus was finally silenced when asleep. Her brow was untroubled and her thick lashes closed peacefully. She looked to me like the most perfect being in creation. Until, and I swear this happened, she talked in her sleep: “Why?”
–A few weeks ago I was exiting a drive through and looping around the building to get to the best exit of parking lot for the drive home. The kids were in rare form, Elias was crying at top volume because he was tired and yet had the gall to not be alseep yet. Isobel was scream-crying I WAAAANT TWIIIINKLLLLE over and over because she had accidentally left him at home while we went to get lunch. I was driving slowly, following the line of cars ahead of me and shoving not a small amount of fries in my mouth when it happened: a guy who was sitting in front of the restaurant on a rail that separated the sidewalk from the drive thru leaned over and said, “You are so cute. Can I have your number?” It was warm and my windows were down and he was close enough to touch. My face was smeared with french fry grease and my mouth was full. I could not have looked more unavailable. I just sorted of frowned and kept driving, mouth full of fries, and later Isobel asked me, essentially, what his deal was. I told him he was just a rude dude and not to worry about it because I loved Daddy and there was no way I’m giving my number to a rude dude. A week later we found ourselves in the same drive thru and Isobel was worried Rude Dude would be back, so she decided to draft a note for me to give to Rude Dude, should he appear again. It would say, and I quote, “I am not giving you my number! You are a rude dude! I like someone else!! His name is Anthony! And these are my children!! I am not babysitting them!!!”
–Avoid seasonal and religious awkwardness and join me in telling everyone to “Have a great cooking time!” It’s what my microwave says when you plug it in.
–We have survived the Hellastorm intact! Despite drastic warnings from the media, our area was spared much of the intensity that other parts of California endured. We had some flooding and minor power outages but two years ago people were kayaking down the street and Angel’s house received a fairly impassable moat. This storm’s effects paled in comparison.
–Elias is working on some more top teeth but right now he just has the two on top and the two on bottom, and let me tell you it is not fun to be bitten by his little rodent teeth.
Follow Friday: Home Life 38. Read and get happy!
Snapshot 12.10.14. So many children, I don’t know what to do. Also, I live in a slouch boot.
Thrifty Giving: Vintage Glam. Sharing tastes in vintage glam.
Scrapbook: Rainy Days. Best kind of days for playing in forts.
Little Big Collection: Vintage Mugs. I have a problem with vintage mugs. I can’t say no.
Follow Friday: Bounce House Buddies. My love letter to the internet.
Daily annoyances for most people are catastroph
My son’s first passport photo. This is so funny.
The library in nearby Weed, California was destroyed in a fire. Help them rebuild.
Due to the recent CHEEZ-IT incident. I would pay money to find out what this is.
Place a Santa hat on the corner of your TV and every time someone wears it… DRINK!
Make Your Own Sexy Toys. This is an actual book.
Merry Christmas, you filthy animals! Joe Biden’s Christmas card, probably.
An unstoppable presidential duo. Or something.
Adorable ornaments by clunkyrobot on sale now!
Free cookie dough when you buy a Ouija board. Satan is hungry?
REI honored by friend Jose Gonzalez for creating Latino Outdoors! And he’s in a short video! So cool!
This is a website dedicated to “proving” The Beatles never existed. Your conspiracy theories look boring compared to this. Via TheFutureHeart
Scrapbook: Sunday Self Portrait. With bonus Zorro.
Scrapbook: New Umbrella. Some of my favorite photos of all time.
Follow Friday: Cousin Photos. I’ve turned into my mother.
Best of 2011: Thrifty Living. What a great year.
Christmas Cards 2011. I’m sending three this year.
Thrift Store Gore: Christmas Santa. Grinch reindeer is my fave.
Thrift Store Score: Christmas Finds. Gores and scores, really.
Snapshot 12.20.11. I once got a spam comment left by “A Puppy.”