Entries from August 2006 ↓

As I posted, yesterday, I spent a long time trying to fix the (insert expletive of your choice here) toilet. It was well over an hour, not including clean up.

My husband came home from work and had it fixed in under a minute. I watched what he did. There was no difference in technique. I know I should be grateful that he fixed it so easily, “That’s so great, thank you,” and I was, outwardly.

However, deep inside I was shrieking in frustration, “That’s not fair! I did the exact same thing, for twenty minutes. Then, I found that nasty drain snake, researched how to use it, and fought and wrestled with that putrid thing. You waltz in here plunge twice and ta-daa it works? You couldn’t at least pretend to struggle with it?”

Someday I want to be the household hero.

There are days when home ownership bites the big one; those are the days the toilet is clogged and there is no manager or super to call.

So,I’ve done everything I know to do and it’s still clogged. I even watched a video and attempted to snake it. I’ve since showered, scrubbed, and showered some more. I’m still skeeved. I have the feeling that one of the boys may have played a part and it’s just going to have to wait until Tim gets home.

I really do not want to have to call Rotorooter.

Eew.

I called up the stairs, “Hey, what are you doing?”
“Just playing.”
“You have a choice, entertain the boys for twenty minutes or help clean.”

The wise child chose entertaining the boys. I met her at the bottom of the stairs to hand off the baby. She came traipsing down wrapped in two striped beach towels and a cape made from a pillow sham.

I refrained from comment.

She calls from the playroom, “Of course I’m weird, it’s in my genes!”

I still have this fear of the “grown up.” I don’t know if it will ever go away. This fear doesn’t seem to apply to issues concerning ethics or morals. No, it is only about the little transgressions.

Friday, Margo and I took the little ones to Gagdonalds.* My two year old can be a little unnerved by the giant habitrail. So, I kicked off my shoes and climbed on in.** Once I got over the hair and general stickiness, I had fun teaching him how to climb to reach the slide. The lady in charge of sweeping the play area caught me coming down the slide and I received a nasty look. Immediately I switched into child mode and was ready to put my shoes on and go home. Is this just some neurotic weirdness of my own creation? Do these feelings fade, or are they ingrained? I never want to lose a sense of fun, but I would not mind if the nagging “You’re going to get in soooo much trouble” voice took a hike.

*As soon as it is no longer four hundred degrees in the shade, we will consider a change of venue. As it stands, we’ve been trying to get out of the house more.

**Yes, it’s just as disgusting as one would assume. I disinfect the children as soon as we get home. Still, we had a nasty stomach bug rip through our house over the weekend.

I’ve become involved with MOPS. We are in the process of starting a new chapter here in Moncks Corner. (If you want information, e-mail me.)

The other day I spent too long waiting at the deli counter in Bi-Lo. For those that don’t know, the deli has an unobstructed view of the feminine product aisle.

With my apologies to MOPS, here is what I noticed:

I know I opened the medicine cabinet.

What I don’t know is if I actually took the motrin or not.

I will know the answer in an hour or two.

It is nothing traumatic. It seems I have managed to torque my back, probably in aerobics. I’m considering paying a visit or twelve to the chiropractor. I am scared I will fall in love.

I guess I’m on a food kick. I’m also trying out tags for the first time.

Rosemary Bread
2 hours 30 minutes (including rise)
1 Tablespoon yeast
1 Tablespoon sugar
1 Cup warm water
2 Cups bread flour + 1/4 – 1/2cup extra for kneading
1 Teaspoon table salt
2 Tablespoons rosemary
1 Tablespoon unsalted butter

Egg wash – 1 egg white + ~ 1 TBSP water

Place yeast, sugar and water in large bowl or food processor and allow mixture to become bubbly. Mix in 1 TBSP butter, salt, and 2 cups of flour. Add one tablespoon of the rosemary, chopped. Knead for about 10 minutes by hand or in a food processor for about 5 minutes until smooth and elastic. Add more flour if necessary. Place dough in an oiled bowl, cover with a towel. Allow the dough to rise in a warm place until doubled, about an hour.

Punch down dough and divide in half. Let dough rest about 5 minutes. Grease a baking pan or cookie sheet. Shape the dough into 2 small rounded oval loaves.

Sprinkle remaining 1 Tablespoon of rosemary over the loaves and press lightly into the surface. Let loaves rise again until doubled, about 45 minutes.

Preheat oven to 375° F. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, brushing with egg wash after 10 minutes. The bread is done when it produces a hollow sound when tapped on the bottom.

Food Porn
Recipe
Bread

My two year old loves Dr. Seuss.

I had some baby spinach.

He asked for thirds.

I asked for hot sauce.

Each time I turn around another week has slipped by. Later this month, we will be driving my stepdaughter to Myrtle Beach for her flight to Minnesota. We won’t see her again until Christmas. It is strange how it can be so bittersweet. She’s a good girl and can be nice company, but as a stepmother I often feel drained. I feel as though every choice, thought, and word will be rehashed and reexamined either by my mother-in-law or her biological mother. Both women are nice, it’s my own neurotic quirk. My father passed on a gene for perfectionism and this is an area of life where blunders are frequent.

My husband works long hours. Just yesterday he realized how many recent weeks he’s spent more than fifty-five hours at work.

Right now the days sometimes stretch long and lazy, but the evenings are a blur of dinner, clean up, baths, stories, and bedtime routines. I’m trying to remember to hang on and savor these days, as they won’t come around again.

Did you know that September 9th is the second annual “World Naked Gardening Day*****?”

I didn’t and probably could have lived a full and happy life without someone bestowing that knowledge upon me.

I somehow doubt many judges will be understanding.

****ADULT CONTENT WARNING — contains nudity (surprised?)