I think I was talking to myself out loud as I searched the muddy ground below the deck, in the freezing rain, looking for the little cloth squares that had fallen down:
I’m soaking wet... I think I have bird poop all over my hands... If I ever see one more Command strip I might cry... I wonder if these alcohol wipes are biodegradable... These lights are staying up until summer, dammit! My fingers are so cold they don’t work anymore... If those hooks don’t stick because they’re wet, I’ll have to just wrap the damn lights around the deck railing like I might’ve done in the first place. Why didn’t I? It was probably just because THAT would’ve been too easy... No, they would’ve been covered in snow that way... Fine. I need one more of those outdoor plug covers, that it took five Home Depot workers to figure out how to open, and one longer extension cord before I can actually hang the outdoor lights. Maybe tomorrow. I might’ve had it done yesterday, but the toilet clogged and Roto-Rooter had to come because Zach was napping and I threw out the plunger the last time it happened! Actually, come to think of it, I might not have done this at all if I hadn’t needed to go buy a plunger so THAT doesn’t happen again ($255 bucks later). I only managed to get Zach off his bike and into the car yesterday by getting him excited about going out to buy Christmas decorations! Maybe I’ll find that last alcohol wipe in the spring... “So what’s the number? Stomp! Stomp! What’s the number? Stomp! Stomp! What is the numberrr-er-er… ”
I was intermittently singing because despite all the Christmas carols swirling around in the air, THIS is the song stuck in my head:
Argh! I just realized that if I post this, I will wreck the surprise, that the outdoor lights were going to be, for Russ when he comes home. Oh well.
Zachary woke up, got changed, ate a snack, and “helped” me put batteries in the animated plush toys as my conversation with myself went internal:
I can’t drink any more milk. If we run out, I can’t get to the store before my coat comes out of the dryer. Meanwhile, I hope this gig dress survives the washing machine. (It was supposed to be dry-cleaned). Where’d that nutcracker figurine go? If it’s on the floor, Bentley might eat it. There it is on the trampoline! (It had been on the piano).
“Uh oh. MOMMY! COME!” (OMG What!!??)
It’s ok. It was just that his monster trucks were stuck under the bed where no one can reach them and I had to get the “grabber” to fetch them.
Welcome to my life.
I really don’t have long. He’s finished with his Cheerios now and has hung up on Daddy, who was FaceTiming, live from the stage, at the show in… (I don’t even know what country). Well, I did manage to eat a couple of cookies before he woke up from his nap anyway – and the hooks are up outside. That’s some accomplishment.
HO! HO! HO! Here we are at Christmas time again! I have about five minutes at any given point in time to do ANYTHING – as do moms everywhere this week. Here’s wishing you all survival and laughter in this homestretch before Christmas.
Argh!!! He is dumping water all over the couch from his sippy cup.
Ok Bye. Xoxo
Xoxo (I said that already, didn't I?)