Thursday, October 21, 2010
It's nearly nine o' clock at night and I am forced to sit at my kitchen table, back door open, telling my dog, "HUSH!" every five minutes. The kids and I got home after a long day, that consisted mostly of being in the car, to find a smelly surprise in Easy's kennel. The dog was still IN his kennel which really posed a problem. The pooh (not to be confused with Winnie) was bound to be on his paws. The kennel is in the unfinished basement on the concrete floor, but he has to walk on the play room carpet to get to the yard. I called Brad with my desperate S.O.S. (which did me no good since he would be in the operating room until late tonight.)So Jake and I, breathing through our mouths, moved the tv cabinet, rolled the carpet back, and hurried the dog out the back door. I shut every door between the mess and us on the main floor. I hate to leave it for Brad, but that's exactly what I'm going to do! ............See, I don't do pooh unless it comes from my children.Back to why I'm perched at my table with the door open......he can be a real barker. It could be another dog, a neighbor walking, a car driving by, the moon, a tiny spider on the fence....doesn't matter. He's going to bark. And it's too late for that.  (too bad he still isn't' this irresistible)It's been such a busy couple months that I feel like I've missed most of them. We had one thing after another on the calendar, the last of which was our vacation. I decided about two weeks ago that after we got back from Disney, I was putting the brakes on. I had gotten a novel idea. I decided I would go back to being a house-wife. You know, a wife who is actually in her house enough to at least semi keep it.....sometimes. The halting is happening. Slowly.....but it is happening. It's as much a mindset as it is in decisions I make. I don't know where I got on the crazy train of going non-stop but I refuse to live that way.  I think I had forgotten how much more demanding the day to day is with a crawler. You pretty much have to have an eye on them constantly. They eat everything. Which means it's just that much harder to get things done. The other day Emma was on the floor smiling at me, flapping her little arm, which is her "pick me up!" cue. I scooped her up and told her, as she stared blankly back at me, that she deserved as much of me as the other three had gotten. She just grabbed my nose, smiled and started looking for the next thing she could find to put in her mouth.  I want to sit on my driveway and watch the kids ride bikes.I want to not be so pushed that I practically throw them in the bed and say a Speedy Gonzales prayer and fly down the stairs to do the next thing that has to be done.  I want to breathe.  ~stacey | |
No comments:
Post a Comment