Metal Meredith

Vivienne’s school had a Veteran’s Day assembly on Tuesday and the local news came to do a story about it. The real story was about how they did a candy for soldiers drive where kids brought in their non-chocolate halloween candy and donated it to be sent overseas. Vivienne got in on the action, too.

I Tivo’d the newscast so that Vivienne could see it. She really didn’t care all that much. I think that seeing herself online and on home videos on the TV has ruined the magic of being on the small screen. My poor child, she will never be happy unless she is on the ‘big screen’.

Vivienne spotted herself right away. I looked and looked but did not see her until she pointed to herself. Then Phil and I both laughed for a good 5 minutes. Not only is she looking straight at the camera, she is the only one not singing and talking to someone instead. She looks confused and a little off. That’s my girl!

She arrives at about minute 1:17.

*I spent my morning with 2 two year olds, 1 one year old and 1 six month old. It was only 3 hours and I was t-i-r-e-d when it was all over.

*Vivienne’s bus driver was 8 minutes early this afternoon, causing me to run the last 2 block to the bus stop, pushing Henry along in the stroller. She had to close the doors and pull the bus over to wait for all of the moms to arrive. Vivienne was so scared and crying when I finally got there, I had to sit with her for several minutes and explain how it happened. Then, I had to walk home pushing a stroller with Vivienne on piggyback because she wouldn’t let go of me while we were walking home.

*This morning, Vivienne went up to say goodbye to Phil, coming back downstairs complaining that she gagged and almost threw up due to the smell. Tonight, as Phil and Vivienne were dancing (a nightly ritual), Vivienne’s butt was a constant symphony of farting, causing her to giggle, causing more farts and more giggling and more........ you get it.

*After months of trying to get Henry to scoot down the stairs on his butt, Vivienne taught him to lay on his tummy and slide down. After doing it 5 times, Vivienne lifts her shirt to reveal her entire stomach is one big rug burn. She laughs and laughs but then has to lay down the 20 minutes until Phil gets home to sufficiently milk the empathy.

*Henry has discovered that it is much more powerful to scream “Mama!” when he doesn’t want to be sleeping than just to cry. If he gets really desperate, he yells “Daddy!”. It is always drawn out to 3 syllables with a sharp inhale in between. A sniffle and maybe a sad, gaggy cough between fits also helps.

*Something upstairs smells like poo. I can’t figure it out (and we know it isn’t the farting problem, above). How scared am I that we will find a 6 month old dirty diaper stashed somewhere?

I find that when we get busy around here, certain things just fall by the wayside. Like in every house, we have to pick our battles.

But then I started wondering, how many times do we just turn a blind eye and hope for the best? Here are a few things that we have done in the past to get around completing the whole task:

*I have been known to use clean glasses from out of the dishwasher instead of emptying and refilling. Sometimes, more often as of late, we have had almost as many dirty dishes to be loaded as are clean to be unloaded.

*The dryer becomes an extra dresser that is in a way more convenient in that they are right in the kitchen, no folding necessary and easy fluffing at a moment’s notice.

*Using folded clean clothes out of a laundry basket instead of a dresser makes it easier to tell when your clothes need to be washed; empty basket = time to do laundry!

*Grabbing an additional trash bag to put on top of an already full kitchen trash can makes the point that it needs to be emptied, without taking that chore on yourself.

*Walking away from a stopped up toilet, hoping that with time to sit and stew (ha!!), the clog will fix itself the next time someone flushes.

I know I am not alone. I know that this doesn’t make me a bad person. But I do know that when things get tight, time-wise, in the house, these tasks are the first to get pushed to the side. 

Kym, somehow, begged and pleaded with some big wig corporate folks who donated a pair of Madonna tickets to us. So on November 24th, I will be flying to Atlanta in a whirlwind 18 hours to see Queen Madge. Although I am dreading the flight, I am looking forward to spending Kym’s birthday with both her and Madonna.