Mad Dogs and Gracie

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You wouldn’t be-lieeve the day I had yesterday. I woke up and went downstairs with the kids at 7am. No big deal, except I’m still full of cold. Back in bed when Graeme woke up. I was sleeping soundly, dreaming even, when I was rudely awakened. (Graeme called my name. Believe me, when anyone wakes me up, I consider it RUDE.) Anyway, I attend another Fat Club on Wednesdays. Alex stays home from nursery. Instead, we trek on into town where all three are watched in the crèche (nursery/daycare) for the 2 hours I’m in ‘class’. And I use that term very loosely. Essentially we do an old person’s aerobic/dance routine set to elevator music modified to hold a slight beat. Having said that, I do break a sweat, so it can’t be all that bad.
Graeme gave us a lift into town. Yippee! We arrived about 30 minutes before class, so I sat there and filled in last week’s food diary over a coffee while the kiddliwinks played. Suddenly I see Betty falling out of the corner of my eye. She was trying to climb onto a table (child size, thank goodness) and didn’t make it. I rushed over and she’d cut her forehead. It was swelling up nicely, you know… the Tom Thumb type, and even bleeding a little. Bless. The squeals alone were breaking glass. Now being the most awesome mom you’ll ever meet, I immediately put her on the boob. This killed two birds with one stone. Firstly, it settled her down. Secondly, it stopped the squealing that was causing my ears to bleed. She came off happily, once she relaxed a bit, and went off to play.
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WHAT? Good Gracious, you’d never see ME being so brave. I’m a self-confessed neurotic narcissistic hypochondriac. Here’s a prime example of the depth of my neurosis. My sister (whom I idolize, adore and wish I were more like) has just survived a back operation, has 4 beautiful, but very young, children (as in a 3 year-old, twin 5 year-olds and wunderkind) and has already been up and down the stairs(?). And what do you think we spoke about on the phone? After asking her why she sounded so sober and clear-headed (whereas I would be under any medically approved drug-induced stupor any chance I get at present…fond memories of the post c-section morphine drip, thumb pressing never stopping…), she said she was fine. And somehow that seemed to be an appropriate response(?) Of course she’s not fine. She’s in pain. She’s tired. She’s aching, sore and probably worried about the house and kids. But do I press the issue? Nope. I wish I could care(not CARE, of course I care, but actively care) more about other people, but I just can’t seem to make that jump. Not any farther than my children, surely, and sometimes not even as far as my gorgeous hottie hubbie, Graeme, poor thing. And then she made the terrible mistake of asking me how I was. Well, that’s enough to get me going for days, being the complete narcissist and selfish person that I am. I went on to describe how yucky I felt, what we’d done that day, etc. Wah. Wah. Wah. I totally and unreservedly suck as a sister. But that’s for several future posts.

Back to the story of my dreadful day. (see what I mean?) The children and I then went to the library where I picked up my November read for the cool book club I’ve just joined. It’s called The Time Traveler’s Wife. It looks really interesting. But the first thing I thought when I saw it was,”OMG That book is SOOOOoooamazon.com THICK!” But I’m sure I’ll manage it. I also borrowed 666 Urban Legends. Very funny bath reading. After about an hour of colouring and playing (they have a play section and don’t mind a bit of noise), it was time to check out some books and continue on our merry way. It was getting a bit hairy. Jackson trying to go upstairs, mini-Mommy giving him a good earful, the rest of the library having a giggle. On actually leaving, I looked at the librarians and said,”I’m sure it was a mother who invented alcohol.” More chuckles. If only I actually drank, it might do me some good! If ever there was a person who could actually benefit from a bit of a buzz, it’d be me.

We walked across the street to the park(ing lot sized patch of green). We do this every year. We go and kick through huge piles of orange and red leaves that have fallen from the trees. It’s so much fun. I remember Dad making Susan and I rake the yard. Now we didn’t have so many leaves, rather we were plagued by PINE NEEDLES. Do you have any idea how hard it is to rake PINE NEEDLES? We also had to separate out the pine cones and sweet gum balls lest they ricochet off the lawn mower blades and cause serious bodily harm. What’s up with that? He later admitted that it was all a ploy to keep us occupied. I can now understand and sympathize fully. I’m even contemplating planting a pine tree of my own. If I do it now, it should be there and ready to keep them busy through adolescence. After some heavy-duty leaf kicking, it was time to go.

We made it safely to the bus stop across the High Street where we arrived just in time for the bus. How fortuitous. Jackson, who is usually pretty shy with strangers and can be quite territorial around other children, particularly little boys, struck up a amazon.comconversation with a very outgoing and slightly older boy. They chattered away the whole ride home and were really cute. I looked over at his Mom and smiled as I remarked that they seemed to speak the same language. Jackson’s a bit slow on the uptake as far as his speech. But he’s coming on. That’s why I was kinda glad to see him with another, even a little older, boy sharing the same skills. Well, the Mom smiled back and and informed me that he was autistic. I would never have guessed. Until he jumped over the back of the seat to sit next to Jackson. We arrived at our bus stop and began the walk home, stopping at a local shop. Upon leaving Jackson knocked his eye on the door. Again, it may sound strange to you. But this type of accident is absolutely indicative to the Dunn household. Thankfully it’s not black and blue today.

The afternoon blues kicked in as soon as we reached the front door. A symphony of whining and crying rang out through my home. I’d love to know the reasons behind this phenomena. I know they’re tired and hungry, they’re only children…. but come on. Why can’t they say,”Mom. I’m tired and would like something to eat before retiring to bed.” They have those words in their vocabulary! And of course, bath time was a treat. All three in at once, lots of pushing and shoving. A bit of splashing and swatting. Oh, and most of the water ended up outside the tub. Duh. (Why haven’t children figured out yet that plain old water WILL NOT HURT THEIR EYES? It’s the soap infested bubbles they should concern themselves with!) Time to get dressed for bed. Jackson runs around to the other side of my bed naked as a Jaybird to hide. (Oh no, he’d better NOT pee!) Alex cries because she doesn’t like what I’ve picked out for her to wear to bed. (You KNOW there’ll be a test in the morning on Fashionista 101) She dared to call me a Stinky McPoopypants (remind me to send Stitchy a link to this page). Betty’s as cool as a cucumber, as usual. That girl’s got what they call resilience.

Whew! Wipe my brow and hand me a Pepsi Cino! How do I celebrate? By breaking in my brand new epilator, of course! OWWWWWWWWWW!

fabric flower brooch
Anyway, I finally got around to making something. OMG. Yes, it’s actually true. I started something and have ACTUALLY FINISHED IT! I’ve been meaning to try the flower brooch over at Molly Chicken’s Tutorial page. It turned out pretty darned cool, if I do say so myself. I still have to add the felt backing and, of course, the fastening. But, other than being about the size of a softball (did I make it too big?), it’s perfect. Unique, handmade with love and on the way to being on a loved one’s jacket in the near (first Christmas present!) future. I shall try to be more productive. I’ve been very lazy recently. And still can’t shake this cold! I need some TLC and chocolate chip cookies. Preferably made by the loving hands of the Keebler elves.

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~ by imadethis on November 14, 2006.

5 Responses to “Mad Dogs and Gracie”

  1. I really enjoyed The Time Traveler’s Wife – it’s definitely worth the length.

  2. the wine flows freely at my house; although, i need it most in the morning into the afternoon. your corsage is beautiful– i may just head up to my craft room to get going on one– as soon as i finish the myriad other projects that i have going on. hope you enjoy the Time Traveler’s Wife. i thought it was excellent, and i will definitely read it again when it comes back from being borrowed.

  3. I like your blog. Time Traveler’s Wife is a great book. Definitely worth the time.

  4. You are soo talented!! I look forward to reading and laughing at your blog. Don’t stop.

  5. great corsage! who knows if it’s too big? Who cares!

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