Category Archives: housework

the best thing

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Passing the time in the dance studio while waiting on Jodie to finish teaching her class and Daniel to finish his hip hop class I did what I usually do.

Hello Twitter!

And while reading through my peoples tweets I came across this:

Good ol’ cousin Joe. No, we aren’t really related. Then again…perhaps…maybe…

But I digress…like I often do…Bill complains often how exhausting conversation with me can be because I go off on crazy tangents all the time.

Whatever!

Wait! What was I talking about?

Oh.

Yeah.

Cousin Joe wants to know what was the best thing that happened to me today.

I start to scroll through the answers other people share with him…

…holding new babies for the first time
…good news from the doctor, no cancer!
…hugs
…safe travels home
…band concerts
…praise from a student’s parents
…birthdays
…breakfast dates
…dinner dates
…ice cream dates
…song writing success

And then I try to think again what was the best thing that happened to me today…

I’m stumped.

No, it wasn’t a bad day or a horrible day or a dark day. It was just a day. A day where I took Jodie to school then took Daniel to school. It was a day where I sipped my coffee while watching the Cardinals take their oaths before they were to begin the papal selection process. Then I did the dishes and scrubbed the baseboards upstairs. I tried to explain to Abby why popes always seem to be really old guys; followed by a discussion of what I learned from Anatomy & Physiology. I wanted to ask her if perhaps she was reconsidering her plan to be the next E! reporter and on air personality and maybe following her mom into nursing but she had to go tanning.

Yeah.

Soon enough it was time to go pick up Jodie from school then pick up Daniel. Then there was homework and dinner prep and more homework followed by taking Daniel to hip hop class. On the way home from dance, I debated with Daniel the merits of taking a shower and washing every part of his body, including his hair.

Eleven year olds and hygiene is just too challenging…and no, it is not just a “boy thing”…trust me.

I help Daniel blow dry his hair then kiss him good night and here I am…trying to figure out what was the best thing that happened to me today.

…?…

Um…

Well my hair looked good.

There is that.

It is very important to look good when one is scrubbing baseboards, chauffering kids and working on 4th grade homework.

Too shallow?

Sorry, Cousin Joe. Today my life was boring. Perhaps THAT is the best thing about today.

editing…

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Truth be told, I suck at editing. Read pretty much any post here and you will agree. I madly string along a few words here and there, throwing in a picture or more and then with scarcely a second look I hit publish.

Really that is not how one should write.

But I do. Then I take a first look at the published piece and I see all the typos…so many typos and everything else that is awkward and cluttered about what I just published and I have to fix it…and fix it again…and maybe fix it more the next day.

This is absolutely how no one should ever write. My apologies to Mrs. Miller who tried to teach me the importance of rough drafts and editing when I was in high school. Major fail, I know.

Days, weeks and even months later, I have to force myself NOT to go back and edit what is clearly an awkwardly written post. I even have to stop myself from doing just that when the piece I submitted to audition for Listen To Your Mother Sacramento is accepted and I am asked to come and read the piece to audition in front of the directors.

True story.

Yes. Last week I was notified that the blog post I submitted was accepted for the next round of auditions for Listen To Your Mother Sacramento.

Squeee!!!

As excitied as I am and as stressed as I am about what am I going to wear and nervous as I am about reading my piece in front of the directors, I find that I must forcibly restrain myself from editing the piece because as awkward as I see it to be now, especially with the f-bombs, that is what the directors accepted when I submitted and what they expect to hear when I read it next week.

So I instead distract myself by editing other things in my life. Like the, no kidding, nearly two feet  tall stack of mail piled on my desk, or my closets. Three trash bags of shredded mail and documents for recycling and three bags of clothes for charity later I feel a little bit better. Just a little bit better.

Looking around I see so much more clutter here under the Big Top. Time to edit some more.

Oh, and to run through my reading more than just a few times before the audition.

a better day thanks to sparkles

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Have you ever noticed how much better things are when there is a shiny disco ball spinning and catching all kinds of sparkly light?

No really. It is better. Inspiring too. I actually had the energy (and time) to clean Daniel’s room a little and get rid of old, broken-down, forgotten toys…actually a kid like Daniel doesn’t forget any of the contents of his room including what is in the dark recesses of the toy box in the closet.

Trust me.

But with the sparkles floating through the room reflecting off the spinning disco ball on his dresser, I was confident that all would be well. I even got real industrious and re-arranged the furniture a little.

Yeah I was feeling bold because what could possibly go wrong?

It was the disco lights, I swear. They were all shiny and made me feel all sparkly.

Fortunately, for me, the disco lights had a similar affect on Daniel as he walked into his clean room and carefully inspected his Hot Wheels collection and other treasures.

“I like it! Thanks Mom!”

WIN!!!

Then as he hugged me, he told me that he was going to go through his toys in the closet tomorrow.

Uh-oh…

neighborhood watch

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Text message from my neighbor across the street…yeah, THAT neighbor:

I’m about 90% sure that the teenage version of the Long Island Medium with booty shorts and Ugg boots just put something on your door.

So I check. Sure enough, there was something left on my door.

House cleaning AND spray tanning? What’s not to love here? Right?!

I send a picture of the flyer to Hollie because something this amazing must be shared. Hollie answers back:

She was VERY tan, with white-blonde hair and I could see her fake nails from across the street.

I text back:

Would you want someone looking like that to clean YOUR house?

Hollie:

Hell. No.
“eww look at those carpet stains! OMG do you have a bud light? Mind if I play DJ Tiesto while I clean?
Is it sad I want her to walk by again so I can get a picture?

Yes, I did have to Google DJ Tiesto.

So now I know.

Me:

You need something to do, like returning my vacuum cleaner.

Hollie:

LOL. That would require shoes…
What happens if she walks by while I’m walking it over? I’ll miss prime photo opportunities.

Oh that neighbor of mine!

I did get my vacuum cleaner returned and Jaime, the teen-aged, spray-tanned Long Island Medium look-alike, booty-shorts-and-Ugg-boots wearing house cleaner did not come back. Guess I’ll have to clean the Big Top all by myself.

daily Fallon #60

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The way I see it, it is never too early to get these clowns to help out around here under the Big Top. She’s on her hands and knees most of her waking hours when she is at Mima’s and Papa’s house so why not give her a rag and get her to scrub some floor.

Hey Fallon, you missed a spot!

Kidding! Of course I’m kidding.

But seriously, Fallon, you missed a spot right there.