I dressed myself today

This morning, H came down to breakfast her usual disheveled just woken up self. She got a sly look on her face, and said "I have to go upstairs for a couple bit. Don't come up." I think, shit. This means shes going to get dressed by herself, and I know the clothes I deem suitable for school are in the bottom of a laundry basket in my room. I go upstairs under the guise of changing S's diaper, and am met with huffing, puffing, arms tightly folded and an irritated grumpy face. "Mom! You RUINED your surprise! Go Down STAIRS!!!" I casually put out the red snowman shirt on her bed and walk away. She comes down PROUD as can be in the red snowman shirt, and pale pink pants with spring time flowers on them. NOW. Let me tell you how I feel about this particular combination of pink and red. I hate it. I beyond hate it. Its nails on the chalkboard for me- my friends in high school knew this, most people I know knows this about me. That's how insane I am to go around talking about how much I hate the combo of bright red and pale pink. I grit my teeth and tell her she looks beautiful. But oh man is it hard. She has the trademark mismatched socks (socks mismatched since 2005) "... today's sock colors ARE.... "she announced while riffling through her sock drawer"... PURPLE AND TURQUOISE!") Then she found a pink ribbon and asked me to braid it into her hair. A friend of mine told me about friends of hers, and I wish I could give credit where credit is due, who made up buttons for their kids that say "I dressed myself today" I need to go about getting some of those.

How deep does my disorganization run?

This is not really a question, I know the answer is as deep as there is.
Today I am even more of a whirling dervish than usual- whirling to nowhere scattering half accomplished projects along the way.

It used to be that nothing would or could happen until I poured myself a cup of coffee in the morning. Today, before I made it to the coffee pot, which is set automatically to brew at 6:30, I showered, got myself dressed (albeit in the dark in a lot of what i wore yesterday) got girls dressed, brushed hair and teeth, found teddy, found monkey, fielded questions such as "how did God make my skin?" (Uh.. with cells. Not bad for pre-coffee) got a 'balala' for S, put waffles in the toaster, poured cereal into bowls for the girls, making sure everyone has the requisite color bowl, and matching or not matching utensil. Moved towards the coffee pot.. bark! Ruby needs to go out. Come back from letting Ruby out, H has finished her cereal and wants her waffle. We're out of syrup so have been using honey on the waffles but its so... slow.... coming.. out.. of... the... bottle.... COFFEE!!! Ahh! Ruby needs to come back in! The cat is yowling at her dish! Now Mayo needs to go out. The FISH are staring at me! I finally pour a cup of coffee, have one sip and sit down, as soon as my butt hits the chair the girls are up, needing help getting down from the table, wanting to watch tv. Then I hear mayo clawing the door to come in. And yes, banana, cereal and waffles for breakfast, and the little one is STILL clamoring for more. I make Hs lunch for school, S wants the bread, the cheese, the yogurt. I give her some yogurt of her own. I clean out the fridge since its trash day and it smells like something died in there. Get the trash and the recycling out. Make sure bag is fully loaded with snacks, water, and monkey because am planning a quick trip to get xmas shopping done after dropping H off at school. The road to the store is closed, requiring crazy detour with crazy traffic. The store 10 minutes away takes an hour to get to. S is crying because shes sick of being in the car. We get to the store, which feels like an accomplishment in itself- S refused to sit in the cart, and I realize this shopping trip is not gong to go as planned. I buy myself some underwear. Hey, thats not xmas shopping! I can't find the christmas lights and am determined to decorate. I decide to buy some new ones. Money is flying out my ass. (which will at least be adorned by some new underwear!) It takes me WAY too long to decide which xmas lights to buy. I call J to ask him him input, although I know this is stupid. He says he doesn't care, but prefers white. Warm white, he says. Then, "hey, while you're there can you pick me up a space heater? And then you can bring it by the studio!" Wow! Great idea! Ugh. While at the xmas light aisle, I notice I'm not the only one standing there is a daze. There are 5 other woman staring transfixed at the lights, trying to make up their minds. This all of a sudden struck me as hilarious, but they all just swiveled their glazed looks in my direction as I laughed. I'm sure they thought I was nuts trying to make this important decision with a 18moth old who didn't want to be there.

So, I make my way to the space heaters, I've given up on this shopping trip already. I call J, he asks me for product #s! HAHAHA! Pick the one that looks best after explaining theres no way in hell I can find the product numbers while wrangling S and keeping my sanity all at the same time.

After dropping the heater off at Js studio (which is on the way home, after all, not such a major inconvenience) S cries the whole way home. I don't know whats going on with her- well, 4 teeth coming in at once. That'll do it. But incredible, she seems hungry. Its only been and hour and a 1/2 since she has the banana, cereal, waffle and yogurt. We come in, with out taking my jacket off I scramble 4 eggs- 2 for her and 2 for me. She inhales those suckers! Before I'm done with mine, and I'm scarfing em down too.

We rush to go pick up H at school, she's going to a friends house today, drive her over there. Get S down for a nap, which she resists for about 1/2 an hour. Then go to hang up the lights. This requires pruning of bushes and a quick tidying up of the "yard" (its tiny, but over grown) I go the lights up! Yay! I ended up hanging them all with out using a ladder- wondering how many of me neighbors were taking bets on whether I'd fall (they lost, i didn't). Now I need to wake S up so I can go pick H up.

I'm beat! And have ended up dedicating my day to xmas lights. Theres so much I need to get done. But this is what happens- I get side tracked, a thousand times a day. How do I stay focused? How do I get focused?

****
AND upon returning from picking H up at her friends house, I walk in to find the dogs have unzipped her school bag and shredded her lunch box. I picked up the backpack on the way rushing out the door, as 2 other lunch boxes have met this fate- but put the bag back down and forgot it. I remembered before we opened the door, at least, and was able to say to H "theres a very good possibility the dogs have destroyed your lunch box" Yes. Mom knows everything. I called J to see if he could do an emergency lunch box run, as i have already wasted too much time at the store today. He has saved the day. Turns out he could have gotten his own space heater. Ugh. I'm contagious. I am the super hero of time wasting. I will not rest until everyone has squandered their allotted hours.

dogs and trash

The trash. Everyday the trash. Does anyone else out there have to prep the garbage can before leaving their house? Find keys, sunglasses, make sure I have wallet, diapers, monkey (S's blanket) snacks (because my girls make every ones lives hell if there are no snacks. If I don't bring snacks, they'll steal yours. I give up) water (to wash down the snacks) lock the door, make sure the cat is in, then the dog prep. Make sure theres nothing edible with in reach, no glasses on the counter because they'll get broken in the counter surf that they would never dream of doing when I'm home, and prep the trash. Tuck the bag inside the lid, and turn the can so the hinge is facing out. I also have to check that the baby gate is closed and the dogs can't get upstairs because they've been known to bust open the diaper genie. You have not seen raging lunatic until you see me go into S's room to find a pile of shredded dirty diapers all over the floor. It smells like shit! Ha! But really really bad rancid shit. The diaper pail has teeth marks all around the lid. Anyway- that is the worst, yes the diapers- but the kitchen trash, while less repulsive is still a major pain in the ass. They're so good in so many ways- but the trash.

Inspiration

Like a balloon, my mind in terms of art. Start out deflated, get inspired slowing filling up with air. Full of air, productive, satisfied, complete. Then either get too full and pop, or too stagnant and deflate.
Have recently discovered this blog: my love for you is a stampede of horses. Incredible, inspirational. I'm filling with air.
Now I have to get to work.

A new day

S and I voted yesterday. I was afraid to watch the news or turn on the radio all day, but got the girls to bed and sleep at a record 6:30 so I could glue myself to CNN. Incredible. Hope! I believe! And I am one jaded cynical mess.

As I went about my routine today I thought people seemed a little happier. Maybe, quite possibly, its just me.

can't wait to vote

When to vote? I am having voting worry which is silly because I WILL vote, doesn't really matter when. I wanted us to go as a family to vote for Obama, but J has already voted. S is napping, at 9:30 am, unheard of. H is at school where she'll be voting weather she likes chocolate chip cookies or oreos better. So the family is scattered, and I am chomping at the bit to pull that Obama lever.

Also on my list today, the consideration of the yearly homemade Christmas gift I attempt. With varying degrees of success. Hat year went well, knitted scarf year, not so much. There are so many giftees though, that my good intentions turn me scrooge-like quickly. But hey, look at me, its just barely November and I'm thinking about it. This is familiar... just wait. Much like the Halloween scramble of earlier post. Check in around Dec 23rd for more of the same.

And oh! thanks to a cranky, eye rolling, heavy sighing fish store employee who tolerated my lack of fish know how, my fish are much better. As soon as I changed the water the way you're supposed to (which is obvious, but I don't know what I'm going) they started swimming around doing fish stuff instead of gasping for air on the bottom of the tank. Yay cranky fish store guy. Yay me for holding my ground while being shamed by the cranky fish store guy.

One fish Two fish

Today I need to get to the bottom of whatever it is that's killing our goldfish. First there were 2, Hannah and Hansom Creasom, they lived outside all summer in a flower pot I called a pond, with plants, no filter, no pump. They survived, thrived, even, it seems. Then I brought them in, to an aquarium in the kitchen so they wouldn't freeze. Then I got cocky and added 2 more goldfish. The white one who didn't even live long enough to be named was the first to go. I came down one morning and found it stuck to the filter, it was before I had coffee and it had been a rough night of no sleeping, so I ignored the tiny voice in my head that was blathering on about life lessons and saying goodbye, and threw the fish in the trash can. Did I think H wouldn't notice? Worse, she asked once where the fish was and then I saw her make a mental note not to ask again. Later I said to her:
"you know that white fish? It died. "
Silence. "Can I see it?"
"I already buried it"(what the hell is wrong with me?)
"What if its hungry?"
"You don't eat when you're dead. But the fish is in a good place now with its friends. Its soul is rested..."
Oh oh oh. Downward spiral. Sinking feet weighted with concrete. So not what I wanted to say. Failing miserably. Shocked by how horribly I'm handling this. I at least stop before I say "next time I'll let you bury the fish with me"
And now, dead fish number 2. Again I throw the fish in the trash. This time, the voice in my head takes control of my subconscious and I put it in a bag inside and empty container of ricotta. (Yes, I should have recycled it. I suck.) Anyway. Later I'm on the phone with my mother who scolds me for throwing away the second fish. She blast my denial by reminding me "Someday one of your big pets in going to die and that's going to be REALLY hard". So, I went out to go through the trash. Found the fish, and put it in the freezer. H has already asked about Aria- once. I have been trying to find the right time to break the news. I am such a wuss. Aria died on Day of the Dead. You would think having grown up in Mexico City I would not be as squeamish about dead as I apparently am. I am going to make an offering for Aria. We will bury the fish, with enough food. And some marigolds.