We bought our dishwasher six months ago. We went all out. We got a Miele. Its really amazing. I never gave a whole lot of thought to dishwashers before because well, because they are not very interesting. Who wants to think about dishwashers? OK, this thing is great. The dishes sparkle. Seriously, its that good.
Or it was. Until it stopped working last week. The whole we need a new dishwasher, I can't handle washing dishes for 6 people, lunch box containers for 4 kids... that was a whole different saga that I never got around to blogging about. It was a long and drawn out and painful saga which involved tedium and misery and paper plates. I was not about to relive that saga.
OK, so I just have to make a phone call because the stupid thing is under warranty. Except the high end specialty dishwasher shoppe doesn't keep normal hours. And when I do get a hold of them they need time to access my info. What info? I bought a dishwasher from you. It doesn't work. Tada! There is my info.
Apparently there is more involved in this. I have to call the special Miele hotline first. My personal specialist gives me the hotline number and tells me it will all be quick and fantastic and solved in no time because Miele is headquartered in San Francisco. Fantastic, except the hotline operates on east coast hours. WTF?
Eventually I speak with a highly trained Miele specialist who instructs me to do things like turn it off and turn it back on. Yes, I thought of that. I'm calling you because it does not work. He instructs me to have to look under the sink, is there a valve? No.
No?
No.
There is no valve?
No.
Hmmmm. OK. Turn it off again. Is it draining now?
No.
Hmmmm , I do not understand this. It should drain.
Yes, I know. Its BROKEN. THAT IS WHY I AM CALLING YOU.
Hmmmmm
...
Hmmmmm
...
You will need to have a service call. The service center will call you to set that up.
The service center did not call. I called the service center. They had to access my information. Oh I see you have a work order, so we will be able to help you. Oh great, when?
Hmmmm.
We do have a technician that works in your area! That bit of information was relayed a little bit too enthusiastically for my jaded self.
Seriously? I'm supposed to be excited about this bit of news? Isn't it your job to get someone to service the machine that is under warranty?
Fast forward to today when I eagerly await the dishwasher repairman.
Is this guy for real? This man shows up and he is a travesty of himself. His hair is slicked back on the sides. He oozed in, stating he will be able to fix anything. It kind of went downhill from there.
He kept raising his eyebrows at me and clearing his throat and adjusting his collar and moaning and groaning as he tightened things with wrenches. I thought about asking him if he'd like to use the bathroom to masturbate, then I thought about how funny it would be if I actually said that, then I started laughing to myself. Then I think he mistook my inward smile as a sign that I thought he was hot. Then he just HAD to show me this one incredible thing he could do. He could magnetically hook up his computer to my dishwasher and obtain info on how many hours I'd cycled through.
" You will love this" he said with a wink.
Eeew, OMG yes, I am turned on by computer read outs of the hours I've logged on my dishwasher. ( Close to 1,000. Sexy, right? Imagine all those dirty dishes... cycling).
Then my daughter, who was at home sick, had to make the situation feel far creepier. She is fascinated by the fact that my underwear is different than boy underwear. She is transfixed by the notion that I can choose between wearing a bra vs wearing a camisole. She had on a pink tank top with a silk indian print shirt on top. So she started asking what I was wearing under my shirt.
A little shirt like hers? Or one of those other things?
OMG NOOOOO! NOT RIGHT NOW.
Creepy guy was here for over an hour, winking and raising his eyebrows, and learning about my undergarments of choice, but he finally left and I finally have a dishwasher.
If it malfunctions again I will use paper plates.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Getting Places
Is it just my kids? Is it like this for everyone?
This is what happens when we go swimming. Oldest child does not get lessons since he is already on the swim team and practices there. The other three get lessons. Prior to leaving the house the three about to have swim lessons children are instructed to put on bathing suits and then put their clothes back on, on top of the bathing suits. I have found this minimizes the risk of forgetting bathing suits for the swim lesson ( not handy).
Unfortunately this technique has the side effect of also allowing for greater potential to accidentally wear underwear under the bathing suit. This is often not discovered until after the swim lesson when some one or other begins bemoaning having wet underwear. I tend not to catch on, assuring them that they do not have wet underwear, they are wearing bathing suits. Only when they undress do I realize, once again, why the wet underwear complaint has been filed. Do not wear underwear under your bathing suit.
So anyway, my plan is I get all the kids ready before we leave the house. We drive to the pool. I get my ID ready before we charge out of the car. We stumble through the parking lot wearing flip flops, no matter what the weather , because if you can swim you can wear flip flops. We go into the family changing room and the three kids remove the outer layers of clothing. I hand them goggles, we go meet the swim teachers.
During the lessons I have oldest child with me and we walk away from the pool area. If I am in the vicinity of the pool then child number 2 can't swim. So I need to be out of sight. There are chairs near the gym, in case anyone wants to hang out and gawk. So we sit there as child #1 pretends to get some homework tackled. What actually happens is he fidgets and picks at imaginary threads, asks inane questions, realizes he does not have a pencil. The forgotten pencil is a familiar theme and he has not quite figured out that this technique does not in fact mean he has escaped his obligations. What he does have to do is march himself up to the reception desk at the gym and ask to borrow one. That takes a good 20 minutes. Then he has to get readjusted in his chair and examine a shoelace for a while. Right about then is when he has all sorts of burning questions about eucalyptus trainers. Yes, eucalyptus. Just like what I have at home. I work out using a eucalyptus.
Oh look, he answered one question on his homework sheet and its time to grab towels and get the other 3 from their lessons. 3 out of the pool and into the locker room. There they wander about in varying states of undress for a while since I've managed to teach my children pretty much nothing about privacy. Getting dressed apparently requires a great deal of wandering about and dropping underwear onto the wet floor and being unable to fit your head through an arm hole.
When the 3 swimmers are finally ready I somehow find myself behaving in a way that implies I think I can just walk on out the door at this point. Of course I can't. Child #1, who did not even swim is not ready. His coat sleeve is inside out and his shoes are mysteriously off.
Really? Does this happen with other people's kids?
This is what happens when we go swimming. Oldest child does not get lessons since he is already on the swim team and practices there. The other three get lessons. Prior to leaving the house the three about to have swim lessons children are instructed to put on bathing suits and then put their clothes back on, on top of the bathing suits. I have found this minimizes the risk of forgetting bathing suits for the swim lesson ( not handy).
Unfortunately this technique has the side effect of also allowing for greater potential to accidentally wear underwear under the bathing suit. This is often not discovered until after the swim lesson when some one or other begins bemoaning having wet underwear. I tend not to catch on, assuring them that they do not have wet underwear, they are wearing bathing suits. Only when they undress do I realize, once again, why the wet underwear complaint has been filed. Do not wear underwear under your bathing suit.
So anyway, my plan is I get all the kids ready before we leave the house. We drive to the pool. I get my ID ready before we charge out of the car. We stumble through the parking lot wearing flip flops, no matter what the weather , because if you can swim you can wear flip flops. We go into the family changing room and the three kids remove the outer layers of clothing. I hand them goggles, we go meet the swim teachers.
During the lessons I have oldest child with me and we walk away from the pool area. If I am in the vicinity of the pool then child number 2 can't swim. So I need to be out of sight. There are chairs near the gym, in case anyone wants to hang out and gawk. So we sit there as child #1 pretends to get some homework tackled. What actually happens is he fidgets and picks at imaginary threads, asks inane questions, realizes he does not have a pencil. The forgotten pencil is a familiar theme and he has not quite figured out that this technique does not in fact mean he has escaped his obligations. What he does have to do is march himself up to the reception desk at the gym and ask to borrow one. That takes a good 20 minutes. Then he has to get readjusted in his chair and examine a shoelace for a while. Right about then is when he has all sorts of burning questions about eucalyptus trainers. Yes, eucalyptus. Just like what I have at home. I work out using a eucalyptus.
Oh look, he answered one question on his homework sheet and its time to grab towels and get the other 3 from their lessons. 3 out of the pool and into the locker room. There they wander about in varying states of undress for a while since I've managed to teach my children pretty much nothing about privacy. Getting dressed apparently requires a great deal of wandering about and dropping underwear onto the wet floor and being unable to fit your head through an arm hole.
When the 3 swimmers are finally ready I somehow find myself behaving in a way that implies I think I can just walk on out the door at this point. Of course I can't. Child #1, who did not even swim is not ready. His coat sleeve is inside out and his shoes are mysteriously off.
Really? Does this happen with other people's kids?
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
I'm Left With The Aftermath
Yesterday I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned. It didn't make that much of a difference. I can't keep up. As I busied myself with folding laundry and decluttering I suddenly smelled something toxic. A familiar smell. A toxic smell. A bad smell. An ominous smell.
What could it be? I thought all the kids were in the back, playing. As it turns out all but one was in the back playing. One small child had realized she'd been left to her own devices and was busily taking full advantage of this fact.
I followed the strong and ominous smell which led me to the bathroom. The room the lone indoor child had just left. Nail polish remover? No... nail polish. The floor sparkled. The floor did not sparkle because it was clean. The floor sparkled because it had been smeared with sparkly nail polish.
I went out and grabbed Laurel.
" What were you doing in the bathroom?"
" Nothing."
Her fingers and toes sparkled. Not just her fingernails and toenails, but her fingers and toes and feet all sparkled. She had gone to town. She had painted the town sparkly pink.
" Did you put on nail polish?" I asked the obvious.
" Yes" she managed to whisper before bursting into tears.
" Where is the nail polish now?"
Sob sob sob..
" Laurel! Tell me where it is!"
" I put it hic..sob sob..hic sob...away"
At least she put it away when she was done.
What could it be? I thought all the kids were in the back, playing. As it turns out all but one was in the back playing. One small child had realized she'd been left to her own devices and was busily taking full advantage of this fact.
I followed the strong and ominous smell which led me to the bathroom. The room the lone indoor child had just left. Nail polish remover? No... nail polish. The floor sparkled. The floor did not sparkle because it was clean. The floor sparkled because it had been smeared with sparkly nail polish.
I went out and grabbed Laurel.
" What were you doing in the bathroom?"
" Nothing."
Her fingers and toes sparkled. Not just her fingernails and toenails, but her fingers and toes and feet all sparkled. She had gone to town. She had painted the town sparkly pink.
" Did you put on nail polish?" I asked the obvious.
" Yes" she managed to whisper before bursting into tears.
" Where is the nail polish now?"
Sob sob sob..
" Laurel! Tell me where it is!"
" I put it hic..sob sob..hic sob...away"
At least she put it away when she was done.
Monday, March 1, 2010
The Trap
Everyone now has bunk beds. I love bunk beds. The rooms are all larger. Toys can stay in the bedrooms, in theory anyway.
Laurel and Griffin's bunk beds arrived last week. They are awesome. They have stairs rather than a ladder and the height is lower than a standard bunk bed. They are perfect.
The arrival of the bunk beds was quite a production. They arrived on a single palate but there were many pieces. Assembly was not included but fortunately the delivery men were happy to put it together for some extra cash.
The men arrived with the palate of bed pieces and it took about 30 minutes for them to unload all the pieces into the house. I shut my bedroom door because I saw that Chloe and Walle were sleeping on my bed. Paddington usually hides in the darkest Peru, or the darkest Peru equivalent, which is usually under my bed. At the slightest hint that a new person has arrived at the house he is gone. I assumed Paddington was under the bed.
The front door was open and shut and open again as the men trudged back and forth with large bits of things and tools and boxes and headboards and steps.
Eventually the bed was assembled, the boxes dismantled and carted off , the men were paid, ( I even threw in some children's clothing because one of them mentioned he had six kids and I had just cleared out some outgrown clothes). The men left.
I then discovered the lower bunk was put in head first rather than foot first. The room is so tight I had to turn it on its end to reverse it. Fun.
I opened the door to let the cats out. Chloe and Walle came to inspect. Paddington did not.
I made the beds. I put away clothing etc in the attached drawers. I folded sheets and put them in the armoire.
No sign of Paddington.
He could not have gotten out. Not again. We can't have lost him again. That was all too traumatic.
I put out plates of tuna. Chloe and Walle ate it ravenously and appreciatively.
No sign of Paddington. I called him. Nothing. I looked in all his usual hiding spots. Under the beds, in closets, behind toy boxes, behind curtains. Nope, no sign of him. I looked outside, in bushes, under hedges. Nothing.
Oliver came home from school. I needed to go get Laurel and Griffin. Oliver and I got in the car and the gas light came on. So I hurried to the nearest gas station, which had no gas. I went to pick up Laurel and Griffin, figuring after I got them I'd head to a different gas station. So we did that. I pulled in to the next gas station and there was caution tape on all the tanks. They didn't have gas either. Um... is it 1972?
We went to pick up Holden then we drove to a third gas station which I was relieved to find actually had gas.
Although Holden's swim team practice was meant to start at 4 I decided to take him to the 4:30 session because I had to go pick up an animal trap to try and get Paddinton back. We've been through this before and I knew the system. Wait til dusk, bait with Kentucky Fried Chicken, listen for the snap of the metal doors. Hertz Equipment Rental closes at 4:30 so I needed to get this trap.
I left the kids in the car, ran in, picked up the paper work, drove to the pick up area and the man loaded the trap into the car for me.
Our house is on the way to the pool so I pulled over by our house and ran over to set the trap. I might as well set it early with a little tuna, and reset it at dusk with KFC. I carefully set it up while the kids watched from the car.
I ran back to the car to drive to swim practice and Holden said " Isn't that Paddington?"
Sure enough, there he was. He watched me set up the trap...from the window. He was inside, where he had been all along.
Laurel and Griffin were amazed that the trap worked so well. They are still talking about it.
Laurel and Griffin's bunk beds arrived last week. They are awesome. They have stairs rather than a ladder and the height is lower than a standard bunk bed. They are perfect.
The arrival of the bunk beds was quite a production. They arrived on a single palate but there were many pieces. Assembly was not included but fortunately the delivery men were happy to put it together for some extra cash.
The men arrived with the palate of bed pieces and it took about 30 minutes for them to unload all the pieces into the house. I shut my bedroom door because I saw that Chloe and Walle were sleeping on my bed. Paddington usually hides in the darkest Peru, or the darkest Peru equivalent, which is usually under my bed. At the slightest hint that a new person has arrived at the house he is gone. I assumed Paddington was under the bed.
The front door was open and shut and open again as the men trudged back and forth with large bits of things and tools and boxes and headboards and steps.
Eventually the bed was assembled, the boxes dismantled and carted off , the men were paid, ( I even threw in some children's clothing because one of them mentioned he had six kids and I had just cleared out some outgrown clothes). The men left.
I then discovered the lower bunk was put in head first rather than foot first. The room is so tight I had to turn it on its end to reverse it. Fun.
I opened the door to let the cats out. Chloe and Walle came to inspect. Paddington did not.
I made the beds. I put away clothing etc in the attached drawers. I folded sheets and put them in the armoire.
No sign of Paddington.
He could not have gotten out. Not again. We can't have lost him again. That was all too traumatic.
I put out plates of tuna. Chloe and Walle ate it ravenously and appreciatively.
No sign of Paddington. I called him. Nothing. I looked in all his usual hiding spots. Under the beds, in closets, behind toy boxes, behind curtains. Nope, no sign of him. I looked outside, in bushes, under hedges. Nothing.
Oliver came home from school. I needed to go get Laurel and Griffin. Oliver and I got in the car and the gas light came on. So I hurried to the nearest gas station, which had no gas. I went to pick up Laurel and Griffin, figuring after I got them I'd head to a different gas station. So we did that. I pulled in to the next gas station and there was caution tape on all the tanks. They didn't have gas either. Um... is it 1972?
We went to pick up Holden then we drove to a third gas station which I was relieved to find actually had gas.
Although Holden's swim team practice was meant to start at 4 I decided to take him to the 4:30 session because I had to go pick up an animal trap to try and get Paddinton back. We've been through this before and I knew the system. Wait til dusk, bait with Kentucky Fried Chicken, listen for the snap of the metal doors. Hertz Equipment Rental closes at 4:30 so I needed to get this trap.
I left the kids in the car, ran in, picked up the paper work, drove to the pick up area and the man loaded the trap into the car for me.
Our house is on the way to the pool so I pulled over by our house and ran over to set the trap. I might as well set it early with a little tuna, and reset it at dusk with KFC. I carefully set it up while the kids watched from the car.
I ran back to the car to drive to swim practice and Holden said " Isn't that Paddington?"
Sure enough, there he was. He watched me set up the trap...from the window. He was inside, where he had been all along.
Laurel and Griffin were amazed that the trap worked so well. They are still talking about it.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
What Would You Wish For?
I decided to take the twins out to run a few errands. Two out of four children are easy. So we went to the mall. My IPhone charging cord was broken and frayed again. I wanted to go to the Apple Store.
So I drove to the Apple Store after the other two were in their respective schools. The stores don't open until 10. So we went to Peets and they scored cookies and I had a coffee. I need a lot of coffee.
At 10 we walked over to the Apple Store. Employees were everywhere, ready to help. Immediately I was led to the wrong product. No, I want the charging cord thingy, like this broken one.
I found it myself.
Meanwhile Griffin was making a pile of all the IPhone cases he apparently needed, despite not owning or even having access to an IPhone. Laurel was then inspired to pick out a hot pink Paul Frank Julius monkey cover which she wanted for herself.
No, we are not getting the hot pink Paul Frank IPhone case. The employee who was not actually helping me but nevertheless had remained in my vicinity with a posture of helpfulness, was quick to point out that they did indeed have these hot pink cases in stock.
Yes, I know, but I don't want one. My daughter does.
"Well, here they are!" She pointed out brightly.
"Yes, I know. But my daughter is 4. She doesn't have an IPhone".
I paid for my cord as she helpfully pointed out that there were computer games for kids. So of course Laurel and Griffin wanted to play these games. But, they are four and don't know how to play computer games, don't need to play computer games, and at this point I want to leave and not hang out at the Apple store all day.
So they whined and screamed as I pulled them away from the games they didn't know how to play in the first place. Thanks helpful Apple people.
So then we tried to walk to another store but got waylaid by a fountain. Other children were throwing coins in. I don't have coins to throw into fountains. I was wondering just who it was that had been throwing quarters in there and whether or not anyone would notice were I to wade in and collect them when some random guy asked the twins if they'd like to make a wish. They clearly had no idea what he was talking about but said yes.
He gave each of them a penny. Griffin wished for a boot. Laurel wished for a cat. We thanked the man and left.
I thought we'd walk through Pottery Barn Kids. Thats a safe bet. Kid friendly. So we walked in and Griffin and Laurel fought and tussled over every object within reach. It was fun. We needed to get out of there. They didn't want to leave. They were having too much fun fighting. So I pointed out that there was another fountain and we could make another wish. Suddenly the whole lets throw our money into a puddle idea seemed like a good idea after all. They practically ran outside, very excited to try out this new wishing thing.
We got outside and Griffin looked around.
" Where is the wishing man?"
We don't need the wishing man. We can make our wishes without him.
" But we need the monies from the wishing man".
Griffin began to look very concerned.
His fears were allayed when I suddenly produced two pennies.
Laurel wished for a cat.
Griffin wished for a boot.
So I drove to the Apple Store after the other two were in their respective schools. The stores don't open until 10. So we went to Peets and they scored cookies and I had a coffee. I need a lot of coffee.
At 10 we walked over to the Apple Store. Employees were everywhere, ready to help. Immediately I was led to the wrong product. No, I want the charging cord thingy, like this broken one.
I found it myself.
Meanwhile Griffin was making a pile of all the IPhone cases he apparently needed, despite not owning or even having access to an IPhone. Laurel was then inspired to pick out a hot pink Paul Frank Julius monkey cover which she wanted for herself.
No, we are not getting the hot pink Paul Frank IPhone case. The employee who was not actually helping me but nevertheless had remained in my vicinity with a posture of helpfulness, was quick to point out that they did indeed have these hot pink cases in stock.
Yes, I know, but I don't want one. My daughter does.
"Well, here they are!" She pointed out brightly.
"Yes, I know. But my daughter is 4. She doesn't have an IPhone".
I paid for my cord as she helpfully pointed out that there were computer games for kids. So of course Laurel and Griffin wanted to play these games. But, they are four and don't know how to play computer games, don't need to play computer games, and at this point I want to leave and not hang out at the Apple store all day.
So they whined and screamed as I pulled them away from the games they didn't know how to play in the first place. Thanks helpful Apple people.
So then we tried to walk to another store but got waylaid by a fountain. Other children were throwing coins in. I don't have coins to throw into fountains. I was wondering just who it was that had been throwing quarters in there and whether or not anyone would notice were I to wade in and collect them when some random guy asked the twins if they'd like to make a wish. They clearly had no idea what he was talking about but said yes.
He gave each of them a penny. Griffin wished for a boot. Laurel wished for a cat. We thanked the man and left.
I thought we'd walk through Pottery Barn Kids. Thats a safe bet. Kid friendly. So we walked in and Griffin and Laurel fought and tussled over every object within reach. It was fun. We needed to get out of there. They didn't want to leave. They were having too much fun fighting. So I pointed out that there was another fountain and we could make another wish. Suddenly the whole lets throw our money into a puddle idea seemed like a good idea after all. They practically ran outside, very excited to try out this new wishing thing.
We got outside and Griffin looked around.
" Where is the wishing man?"
We don't need the wishing man. We can make our wishes without him.
" But we need the monies from the wishing man".
Griffin began to look very concerned.
His fears were allayed when I suddenly produced two pennies.
Laurel wished for a cat.
Griffin wished for a boot.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Afternoon Adventures
I think the weeks are getting longer and longer. Is that possible? Because I really think thats happening.
Yesterday, despite being Wednesday, lasted for several days. Oh, it started out OK. As OK as Wednesdays get what with the whole get everyone up a little extra early because two of the schools have morning meeting at 8:30. Coincidentally 8:30 is also the time at which I drop off Laurel and Griffin. Its all very convenient and easy to schedule and packing 4 lunches is never a problem. I just breeze through the mornings.
I breezed on through the lunch packing and breakfast screaming ( "NO! Thats my bowl! " " I need more Cheerios...NO! AHHH I want Daddy to do it!" " No, not that bowl! Thats not my bowl! I don't like that bowl! He is kicking me! He made me spill! ").
I got the kids to school. I attended one of the morning meetings. I put gas in the car and ran 57 errands. I came home and vacuumed and folded laundry. I divided the laundry by child and placed it in neat piles over the entire sofa. I picked up 2 out of 4 children.
I decided after homework was completed that I'd take the two of four children out to buy a birthday present for the remaining two children. The boys sat down to do their work. They needed snacks. They needed to go to the bathroom. Apparently they also needed to clog the toilet.
So I plunged. That should work, right? No, of course it wouldn't.
Vile. Vile. Vile.
The toilet overflowed. I gagged and plunged to no avail. I really did gag. Oliver thinks gagging is barfing. So he started giggling and saying " Oh no! Mommy is sick!"
No, honey. I'm not sick. Just grossed out.
I failed. I could not plunge the toilet. I started cleaning up the disgusting floor. I had a large garbage bag and gloves and cleaning supplies and someone started ringing the bell and knocking. Oh, of course someone would come to the door now.
But the most amazing thing happened. It was the plumber! Seriously. He had come with the part for our sink. He arrived when I had a broken toilet. Of course if I lived somewhere other than California this may not seem quite so random. One might assume that well, she had an appointment with the plumber, of course he came. So whats the surprise? I would have thought that too, before I lived in California.
But see my plumber is awesome. He comes when I need him. Always. If I have a non emergency he doesn't come right away. If something bad happens he comes right away.
Here is the system: I call and leave a message stating my problem. He shows up at some non specific time when he happens to be near by. Really. This is how it works. Sometimes I arrive at home with a carload of children and there he is in my driveway. He greets me with a big friendly smile.
I've had a leaky sink for a while. He was in my driveway last week when we got back from swim practice, but he didn't have the right part. Apparently he'd stopped by several times since but I hadn't been home. Had I known when he thought he might be coming by I might have been able to be here, but whatever. I'd much rather have someone nice and friendly who consistently does great work and has an intuitive scheduling system than pay exorbitant prices for a large company to do a bad job.
The point of all of that is to say that it was a surprise, a very, very welcome surprise, to have the plumber show up just as my children had clogged a toilet!
Within 10 minutes the toilet was fixed, the sink was fixed, and homework was completed. We were ready for our birthday present buying adventure.
Or so I thought.
We went to the first store. Oliver walked inside and announced " I want to go outside."
No, we are looking for birthday presents, remember?
" I want to go outside. All done with this store. Time to go to a new different store".
Oh great.
Two minutes later we were in a different store. One second later:
" All done. Time to go to a new different store".
Remember? We are looking for presents for your brother and sister.
" NO! No presents! I want to go outside! All done! I'm HUNGRY! I want FOOOOOOD".
OK, next store. This one has a train table, maybe that will help.
Nope, I was being pulled and yanked. This was not the present buying adventure I'd anticipated.
Next stop: book store. Oliver likes books. He made himself a stack of books and wanted to leave with them.
No, we are going to look around.
"No! I don't want to look around! I need to go outside! I am hungry! I'm all done! I want to go home!"
Somehow I managed to convince him to sit next to Holden and read so I could look around for 3 seconds. I gathered up a few books in a somewhat panicked state. There was a 6 year old time bomb about to go off and I knew it.
Waiting in lines is not our forte so even though there was only a few people ahead of us in line we had our challenges. Oliver pulled and yanked and fell dramatically to the floor. I pretended not to notice. Oliver yelled that he needed to go outside and ran to the door.
"Oliver!" I reprimanded sharply, apparently startling a few people in the process. He giggled.
" Get back in this line NOW."
I half expected some of the patrons to follow my direction as well and was vaguely disappointed when Oliver was the only one who listened.
We made our purchases and headed out the door.
" We have to go get Griffin and Laurel now," I said.
" No! I'm hungry! I don't want to get Griffin and Laurel."
Just as Oliver made his final announcement we passed by this beautiful little gourmet cupcake store.
Lets go in here!
I don't know what I was thinking. More lines, people, choices, waiting. Oliver wanted a chocolate cupcake. NOW. Holden carefully considered his options. Since we were in a gourmet cupcake place he opted for a cookie. The woman gave Holden his cookie in a bag. She handed Oliver his cupcake on a napkin. Oliver wanted a bag, like Holden. The cupcake will get wrecked in a bag, I explained.
"BAG!" Yelled Oliver.
Another employee offered a single cupcake box. Oliver was kind of OK with the box option. But it needed to be closed. Then he needed to leave. Immediately. The breaking point was very close. Holden took him outside to sit at a table. In the cold. In the wind. I paid and then joined them. The box was instantly discarded. He finished the cupcake faster than Holden could eat his cookie.
We went to pick up Laurel and Griffin then went home and I began to think about what to make for dinner.
" Mommy?"
Yes, Oliver?
"Mommy,I had fun at the store."
Yesterday, despite being Wednesday, lasted for several days. Oh, it started out OK. As OK as Wednesdays get what with the whole get everyone up a little extra early because two of the schools have morning meeting at 8:30. Coincidentally 8:30 is also the time at which I drop off Laurel and Griffin. Its all very convenient and easy to schedule and packing 4 lunches is never a problem. I just breeze through the mornings.
I breezed on through the lunch packing and breakfast screaming ( "NO! Thats my bowl! " " I need more Cheerios...NO! AHHH I want Daddy to do it!" " No, not that bowl! Thats not my bowl! I don't like that bowl! He is kicking me! He made me spill! ").
I got the kids to school. I attended one of the morning meetings. I put gas in the car and ran 57 errands. I came home and vacuumed and folded laundry. I divided the laundry by child and placed it in neat piles over the entire sofa. I picked up 2 out of 4 children.
I decided after homework was completed that I'd take the two of four children out to buy a birthday present for the remaining two children. The boys sat down to do their work. They needed snacks. They needed to go to the bathroom. Apparently they also needed to clog the toilet.
So I plunged. That should work, right? No, of course it wouldn't.
Vile. Vile. Vile.
The toilet overflowed. I gagged and plunged to no avail. I really did gag. Oliver thinks gagging is barfing. So he started giggling and saying " Oh no! Mommy is sick!"
No, honey. I'm not sick. Just grossed out.
I failed. I could not plunge the toilet. I started cleaning up the disgusting floor. I had a large garbage bag and gloves and cleaning supplies and someone started ringing the bell and knocking. Oh, of course someone would come to the door now.
But the most amazing thing happened. It was the plumber! Seriously. He had come with the part for our sink. He arrived when I had a broken toilet. Of course if I lived somewhere other than California this may not seem quite so random. One might assume that well, she had an appointment with the plumber, of course he came. So whats the surprise? I would have thought that too, before I lived in California.
But see my plumber is awesome. He comes when I need him. Always. If I have a non emergency he doesn't come right away. If something bad happens he comes right away.
Here is the system: I call and leave a message stating my problem. He shows up at some non specific time when he happens to be near by. Really. This is how it works. Sometimes I arrive at home with a carload of children and there he is in my driveway. He greets me with a big friendly smile.
I've had a leaky sink for a while. He was in my driveway last week when we got back from swim practice, but he didn't have the right part. Apparently he'd stopped by several times since but I hadn't been home. Had I known when he thought he might be coming by I might have been able to be here, but whatever. I'd much rather have someone nice and friendly who consistently does great work and has an intuitive scheduling system than pay exorbitant prices for a large company to do a bad job.
The point of all of that is to say that it was a surprise, a very, very welcome surprise, to have the plumber show up just as my children had clogged a toilet!
Within 10 minutes the toilet was fixed, the sink was fixed, and homework was completed. We were ready for our birthday present buying adventure.
Or so I thought.
We went to the first store. Oliver walked inside and announced " I want to go outside."
No, we are looking for birthday presents, remember?
" I want to go outside. All done with this store. Time to go to a new different store".
Oh great.
Two minutes later we were in a different store. One second later:
" All done. Time to go to a new different store".
Remember? We are looking for presents for your brother and sister.
" NO! No presents! I want to go outside! All done! I'm HUNGRY! I want FOOOOOOD".
OK, next store. This one has a train table, maybe that will help.
Nope, I was being pulled and yanked. This was not the present buying adventure I'd anticipated.
Next stop: book store. Oliver likes books. He made himself a stack of books and wanted to leave with them.
No, we are going to look around.
"No! I don't want to look around! I need to go outside! I am hungry! I'm all done! I want to go home!"
Somehow I managed to convince him to sit next to Holden and read so I could look around for 3 seconds. I gathered up a few books in a somewhat panicked state. There was a 6 year old time bomb about to go off and I knew it.
Waiting in lines is not our forte so even though there was only a few people ahead of us in line we had our challenges. Oliver pulled and yanked and fell dramatically to the floor. I pretended not to notice. Oliver yelled that he needed to go outside and ran to the door.
"Oliver!" I reprimanded sharply, apparently startling a few people in the process. He giggled.
" Get back in this line NOW."
I half expected some of the patrons to follow my direction as well and was vaguely disappointed when Oliver was the only one who listened.
We made our purchases and headed out the door.
" We have to go get Griffin and Laurel now," I said.
" No! I'm hungry! I don't want to get Griffin and Laurel."
Just as Oliver made his final announcement we passed by this beautiful little gourmet cupcake store.
Lets go in here!
I don't know what I was thinking. More lines, people, choices, waiting. Oliver wanted a chocolate cupcake. NOW. Holden carefully considered his options. Since we were in a gourmet cupcake place he opted for a cookie. The woman gave Holden his cookie in a bag. She handed Oliver his cupcake on a napkin. Oliver wanted a bag, like Holden. The cupcake will get wrecked in a bag, I explained.
"BAG!" Yelled Oliver.
Another employee offered a single cupcake box. Oliver was kind of OK with the box option. But it needed to be closed. Then he needed to leave. Immediately. The breaking point was very close. Holden took him outside to sit at a table. In the cold. In the wind. I paid and then joined them. The box was instantly discarded. He finished the cupcake faster than Holden could eat his cookie.
We went to pick up Laurel and Griffin then went home and I began to think about what to make for dinner.
" Mommy?"
Yes, Oliver?
"Mommy,I had fun at the store."
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
The Food Battle
My 8 year old is a great eater. He always has been. His diet is varied and his palate is sophisticated. Thats not to say he doesn't enjoy junk food as much as the next 2nd grader, but overall he is both well rounded and open minded.
Unfortunately these qualities are not a result of my fantastic parenting abilities, as illustrated by my subsequent children.
Oliver prefers peanut butter for lunch and cereal for breakfast. Each new bowl must be in a clean bowl. There is no such thing as a second helping in the same cereal bowl. That cereal is tainted. Sometimes we make the resolve and we face this battle.
No! You only get one bowl!
We valiantly stick with our assertion. The problem is Oliver has great stamina for holding a piercing shriek at the most shrill decibel. If that fails to change our minds about the bowl situation then drastic measures begin. Cups of milk are toppled, siblings bear the brunt of his wrath. I think the character of the Incredible Hulk was based on Oliver. He is the sweetest boy on the planet, but oh you do not want to be around when he turns green and his clothes shred.
So Oliver has cereal in 400 bowls, then he eats peanut butter for lunch. He eats other things with his peanut butter, like raw carrots and 400 mandarin oranges, but he must have peanut butter. He would rather starve than eat a different type of sandwich so in the end I relent. I don't relent because I figure oh well, it can't be that bad for him. I relent because I'm so tired of having a full lunchbox come home full of warm and wasted food. I relent because of the time it took for me to pack that lunch that came home warm and untouched.
Then there is Griffin. He will try something. Usually. If he sees Holden eating it.
Then there is Laurel who drinks milk. Lots of milk. So much milk that I make her eat before she gets milk. Sometimes she'd rather have nothing at all than have to have one bite.
Holden explains that food is good for you and if she wants to grow up and be tall like him she should eat.
She thinks its OK to drink milk and be short.
She points out that she does eat cookies. I point out that cookies are a treat, they are not good for you. Cookies do not help you grow.
" Oh, like vegetables make you grow?"
" Yes!" I'm delighted that she has figured this out. I see the glimmer of light on the horizon.
" Of course, I don't eat my vegetables." She points out.
" You need to eat to grow and be healthy."
" I like chocolate". Laurel reasons.
" No, chocolate does not help you grow."
" It makes you shrink?"
" No."
Despite having had variations of this conversation over and over and over again Laurel remains convinced that some foods make you grow while others make you shrink.
We can't get rid of her squeaky cat shoes because when she shrinks to a baby they will fit her again.
OK, well, good luck with that.
Unfortunately these qualities are not a result of my fantastic parenting abilities, as illustrated by my subsequent children.
Oliver prefers peanut butter for lunch and cereal for breakfast. Each new bowl must be in a clean bowl. There is no such thing as a second helping in the same cereal bowl. That cereal is tainted. Sometimes we make the resolve and we face this battle.
No! You only get one bowl!
We valiantly stick with our assertion. The problem is Oliver has great stamina for holding a piercing shriek at the most shrill decibel. If that fails to change our minds about the bowl situation then drastic measures begin. Cups of milk are toppled, siblings bear the brunt of his wrath. I think the character of the Incredible Hulk was based on Oliver. He is the sweetest boy on the planet, but oh you do not want to be around when he turns green and his clothes shred.
So Oliver has cereal in 400 bowls, then he eats peanut butter for lunch. He eats other things with his peanut butter, like raw carrots and 400 mandarin oranges, but he must have peanut butter. He would rather starve than eat a different type of sandwich so in the end I relent. I don't relent because I figure oh well, it can't be that bad for him. I relent because I'm so tired of having a full lunchbox come home full of warm and wasted food. I relent because of the time it took for me to pack that lunch that came home warm and untouched.
Then there is Griffin. He will try something. Usually. If he sees Holden eating it.
Then there is Laurel who drinks milk. Lots of milk. So much milk that I make her eat before she gets milk. Sometimes she'd rather have nothing at all than have to have one bite.
Holden explains that food is good for you and if she wants to grow up and be tall like him she should eat.
She thinks its OK to drink milk and be short.
She points out that she does eat cookies. I point out that cookies are a treat, they are not good for you. Cookies do not help you grow.
" Oh, like vegetables make you grow?"
" Yes!" I'm delighted that she has figured this out. I see the glimmer of light on the horizon.
" Of course, I don't eat my vegetables." She points out.
" You need to eat to grow and be healthy."
" I like chocolate". Laurel reasons.
" No, chocolate does not help you grow."
" It makes you shrink?"
" No."
Despite having had variations of this conversation over and over and over again Laurel remains convinced that some foods make you grow while others make you shrink.
We can't get rid of her squeaky cat shoes because when she shrinks to a baby they will fit her again.
OK, well, good luck with that.
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