Sunday, June 9, 2013

Same Chores. Different Day.

As the kids pried us out of bed at 7 a.m., a part of me was thankful for our early risers. Yes, they force us out of our cozy beds much earlier than we would like. However, as a result, we get to enjoy so much more of the day. Our weekends grow by three hours per day when we have to wake up at 7 a.m. instead of 10 a.m. That's something right?

The kids and I lounged around and enjoyed a slow morning together while my husband began working outside in our yard. Many months ago we began the arduous task of leveling our bumpy and lumpy yard, which began with the help of a large bulldozer. My husband has been putting the finishing touches here and there whenever an opportunity arises. Now all we need is to hydro-seed the lawn and throw a party when the grass grows in! I'm so excited to have a level yard that is  functional without inducing symptoms of vertigo!

Playing a little ball
(thank goodness our tiny 7x7 foot front yard is still intact!)


Eating some rocks.


Being handsome
(love that goofy gap between his two front teeth).


Laughing at daddy.

 
Taking a nap
 
 
Or at least pretending to.


We finally snuck out of the house to run errands and I let the kids play in the indoor play park in the mall. It's fun to see how much more Ryan can enjoy the park every time we go. This trip he enjoyed chasing his big brother who was very protective and repeatedly announced to everyone, "That's my baby brother!" We discovered that Ryan can now climb up and go down the slide all by himself. He would climb up carefully and then sit on top of the slide where he would poise proudly and look around to make sure everyone was appreciating his newfound independence. Then he would rock his body back and forth until the force of his own weight pulled him down the slide. He'd grin from ear to ear as he slid right into my outstretched arms. After a good 20 minutes of this, I decided that a Little Tikes plastic slide will be the first addition to our new yard (Craigslist, here I come!).

After a handful of chores, the last thing on my to-do list was grocery shopping. The kids shared an Orange Julius smoothie while I power-walked down aisles throwing things into the court. Everything went smoothly until the end of the trip. Eventually, I pulled the sopping cart up to the pharmacy to refill Jacob's prescription for fluoride. As I gave the pharmacist our information I heard a shrill scream. "OUCH! HELP! OWWWWW!"

I turned my head and saw Jacob sitting at the blood pressure monitoring machine. His left arm stuck was into the arm cuff, his left hand was flailing desperately from the other end. "HELP! I'M STUCK! IT'S SQUISHING ME!" People walked by alarmed. Some just snickered. More than a little embarrassed, I pushed the "Stop" button on the macine and set him free just in time to look back at the cart and see Ryan throwing boxes of condoms off the pharmacy shelf.

Jacob and I rushed to the cart. As I began picking up the boxes, more condoms fell from the sky, landing on my head. Clearly, it was time to leave.

When we got home, I put the baby down for a nap and left Jacob to play with his trains as I began dinner. I attempted to recreate my favorite meal from a restaurant near my work (The Red Papaya in lower Queen Anne). My boss treats us to lunch often for what has affectionately been coined, by him, "micro-bonuses."My favorite dish at this restaurant is Vietnamese steak served atop julienned green papayas. With my julienne chopper, the meal was a cinch to make. And nearly as good as the original! (As close as I'll ever get anyway). It was fantastic. Even Ryan loved the steak!

Not the best picture.
Have you noticed that beef always looks like poop in amateur photography.


After dinner, I let Ryan play in his highchair while I did dishes. He sat in the highchair like it was a throne and proudly threw pear cubes and steak pieces across the floor like a generous king scattering bread loves among beggars. Then he lifted his filthy hands at me as if to say, "wipe me, my minion." I took a step toward him with a baby wipe. PLUNK. A wet pear chunk landed on my chest and slowly slid down my shirt. Ew.

He raised his hands at me once again. I wiped him clean and set him free. As I bent down and picked up the squishy, cat hair-covered leftovers, I had no idea that he was in the next room scattering books and playing cards across the floor. This exciting discovery prompted me to recite my new motto, "same chores, different day." I honestly feel like I clean the same messes, wash the same clothes, and do the same dishes every freaking day. It's like my life is stuck on repeat. The only thing that changes is the date on the calendar.

But as long as I get to relive this smile everyday, I'm totally happy being stuck in a repeating time wormhole.




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