For some reason, I totally thought this summer was going to be easy. I envisioned all this spare time that I'd have. Because my kids are older now, see? So in my brain, that somehow equaled more of me typing away on my laptop, or reading more than two chapters of a book every night, and even (gasp!) getting my house clean and organized.
I'll just pause now so you can get that laugh out of your system.
So, no, it wasn't a summer filled with all that free time I thought it would be. It wasn't a hard summer by any means, it was just full and busy and there wasn't a whole lot of time for solo, uninterrupted stuff.
And then last week, the kids went off with my parents in West Virginia, and what do Clint and I do? We rip up the carpet in our living room. (Because it is nasty and WHITE for godssake and will not get clean no matter what I do!) And so I spent many weekday hours pulling staples out of the wood floors with tiny pliers and thinking mildly violent thoughts about the individual who was obviously so very enamored with his staple gun when he was putting down the carpet pad.
On the other hand, I did no cooking that week.
Anyway, our summer is almost over. The kids start school after Labor Day, and I hope to pick up some part-time work myself. Clint is having shoulder surgery the end of September and will probably be lying on our couch for a good deal of October. I can feel Autumn hovering in the night air and it makes me so very, very happy.
Which reminds me to go work on that sweater I started for Benjamin.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
This week, filling out paperwork at the dealership, the man asked, "Is it ok to put down homemaker for you?" Sure. I'm proud of that. But I still pulled out the journal that came a few weeks ago when I got home. I looked at my name on the page. Some day, hopefully, I'll tell someone to put down "writer" when they ask.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Last night we were supposed to have black bean soup in bread bowls for dinner. Except after I sauteed the onions and bell peppers, chopped the chipotles, and assembled everything along with the dried beans in the slow-cooker, instead of turning the damn thing to HIGH I accidentally set it on WARM. You know, that setting that keeps your meal nice and toasty after it has cooked already. And then I went about my absentminded business and so, when Clint came home at 7pm from a long, frustrating day of work there was no dinner ready. BECAUSE THE DAMN BEANS WERE STILL AS HARD AS PEBBLES.
I am so epic.
Anyway, I was disgruntled and also sticky (hello, humidity!) and threw in the towel and we all got in the car and went to get a sandwich.
Clint has been having a lot of trouble with his shoulder, and will probably end up having surgery on it, but right now he's working through some physical therapy torture stuff and it was really bothering him last night. So he took one of the percoset they gave him before we left to go get our sandwiches. And apparently percoset really affects him, but we didn't know that. So by the time we got home, he was walking to the house with the dubious assistance of his arm across my shoulders, which delighted me and annoyed the shit out of him.
So I sent him to bed and brought him some water, and even though I failed at dinner and it seems like more often than not, it's that guy looking like a James Bond puppy-rescuer who is doing all the saving-the-day, there are some things I am best at.
Putting people in this house to bed is one of them.