May 25, 2009 by Marj Hatzell
No? Look harder. Give up yet?
I finally remembered my password and I can now access my blog from the laptop! Which means I can blog from anyplace! Which means I totally reset the password, ’cause I couldn’t remember it, and the desktop is too slow, and Bugaboo is asleep and Bug Boy is stalling by playing video games, and I don’t care, and the husband is cursing at the sliding screen door because it’s been knocked off of its track and he’s been playing with it for an hour, thus not hogging the laptop, hence me putting my feet up and enjoying it.
It was a crazy weekend. Let’s see…I was dog sitting. Which entails this: Walk dogs. Give dogs cold water. Let dogs out. Let dogs in. Fill water bowls. Trip over dogs in hallway. Let dogs out (they heard a noise), let dogs in. Fill water bowls. Trip over dogs in kitchen. Let dogs out (they saw a leaf fall from the sky). Let dogs in. Walk dogs. Fill water bowls. Trip over dogs on stairs. Go to bed. Wake up and walk dogs…
The guest doggie, Zane, was totally sweet and amazing and sweet. Did I mention he was sweet? Sweeter than sweet vidalias. Sweeter than honey. Super sickening sweetie pie sweet. He just didn’t do stairs. Which meant I had to lift him up and down the stairs to the yard. Until he figured out how to jump off the top step and jump back up again. That was fun.
Shadow and Zane keeping watch to protect us from squirrels and rabbits.
Friday into Saturday Dh took Bug Boy for an impromptu trip to the family cabin to bring home a little something-something that we’ve been planning on getting for about twelve years. Or thirteen. One of the two. Anyways, he took a quick trip (three hours each way, stayed over night) to get it, stopped in to see grandmom at the retirement home and came home with a nice addition to our front porch.
Our new porch glider. Oak. TADA!
Sunday we woke up to sticky, muggy, yucky weather. I decided I was going to spend the day INDOORS putting away winter clothes, straightening closets and cleaning up after the whirling dervish Bugaboo. DH wanted to pressure wash the fence (which was growing actual algae. From Lake Erie. In my backyard). We filled up the baby pool. Dh said, “Ok. I’ll keep an eye on him in the yard. If he gets into trouble, I’ll stop what I’m doing and get him out of trouble. Go ahead.” Fifteen minutes later, there was dirt thrown around my family room, muddy footprints in the kitchen, dirt and rocks in the baby pool, and Bugaboo was necked and doing his Lord of the Flies routine, complete with dirt smeared on his torso and stripped down to the undergarments. Garment. Pullup. Anyways, I went back out to supervise. The pressure wash continued. Each time I got Bugaboo back on track and went back inside, he’d head towards rocks or mud. And the pressure wash continued. I was getting nothing done. Needless to say, Momma had a global nuclear meltdown, complete with stomping off and sobbing in my bedroom, complaining that it was way too hard to have a disabled child.
Boo Freaking Hoo. Get over it.
After my cathartic release (read: temper tantrum), Bug Boy started his meltdown (it’s the weekend, they get off track). And Bugaboo had his meltdown. And the meltdowns ensued for most of the day. I got everyone back on track, just in time for my friend to come to watch my guys (I watched hers the night before) and DH and I were able to slip out for dinner and drinks for an hour and reconnect (read: get jiggy with it. Only we didn’t, because I fell asleep).
Monday? We were invited to my brother’s. I wasn’t up to chasing Bugaboo so I begged out (too many people + small house + unfamiliar environment + long break = psycho Bugaboo meltdown. Not conducive to partying). DH continued pressure washing (He is thorough. And it looks great. But…it took waaaaaaay too long) and I spent time indoors, doing basic stuff and sitting on my arse spending quality time with Bug Boy staring at the computer while Bug Boy sat next to me, staring at the television. And Bugaboo continued re-enacting Lord of the Flies.
Dinner was your basic burgers and dogs, booze, junk food and some friends and family. The kids played, mostly allowed the adults to drink and chat and the night ended with spud gun firing and some firecrackers. What’s better than that? Other than teenaged-babysitter and her teenaged-boyfriend and their PDAs. That’s public displays of affection, for those of you too married to remember. Makes me laugh, the way they sneak kisses in like we’re gonna yell at them or something.
Oh. I almost left out the part where I WENT WITH AWESOME TEENAGED BABYSITTER AND GOT MY EAR CARTILAGE PIERCED.
No, I wasn’t drinking.