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>In high school my friend D. liked to quote her mother by saying, “Could be worse, could be raining!” to keep things in perspective. That phrase kept running through my mind today as one thing after another went wrong, but all in all, things could have been much worse.
Fortunately, last night was the coolest night we’ve had in ages and we woke up feeling rested.
Unfortunately, Husband and I both overslept. He dove for a quick shower while I tried to figure out how it happened. Nothing was wrong with the alarm, the time was set properly, and the radio alarm was set to “on”. Who knows?
Fortunately, he has worked late several times this week, so if he arrived a few minutes late today it wouldn’t be a problem.
Fortunately, the dishwasher was loaded and ready to run. As soon as Husband took a running leap out of the house and into the car, I filled it (the dishwasher, not the car) with soap and pushed the button to start it.
Unfortunately, the dishwasher broke out in (no, not song) a noise that mimicked a chain saw.
Fortunately, there’s a button for “Cancel and Drain”.
Unfortunately, the noise continued.
Fortunately, the ever-competent part of me figured out how to prop the door open just enough to stop the whole process.
Fortunately, I looked into the appliance and managed to find a small part that was obviously cracked.
Unfortunately, I had no idea what it was or how to fix it.
Fortunately, it was a Cleaning Service day! They do a great job on our home and I’m so grateful!
Unfortunately, they arrived a little early, so La Petite (she who doesn’t do mornings) was still in bed.
Fortunately, El Grande takes great pleasure in waking his older sister.
Unfortunately, I was so busy with the Chainsaw Dishwasher that I wasn’t ready, either. I hadn’t written a check or straightened up nearly enough.
Fortunately, the cleaning people can work around almost anything. I wrote the check, warned them about the dishwasher, and and we piled into the van to get out of the way.
Fortunately, we went to IHOP for brunch.
Fortunately, the food was delicious.
Fortunately, the table next to us was very entertaining with three lovely and smiley children eating pancakes. This led my two children to reminisce about restaurant adventures when they were little. Fun.
Fortunately, when we got home the house was sparkling and clean-smelling.
Unfortunately, the dishwasher still didn’t work.
Fortunately, it was a beautiful day with lots of excuses for procrastinating. I went out to the garden to weed and meditate and gather my energy for washing a lot of dishes.
Unfortunately, the dishes were still there when I got back.
Fortunately, the kitchen was spotless.
Unfortunately, I own very few dish towels and dish clothes, since I rarely wash dishes by hand.
Fortunately, I had extra towels in the bathroom. I brought out two big shower towels because…
Unfortunately, my kitchen has no drainer rack for dishes and only has one sink. I set up the towels for air-drying because…
Fortunately, there was a beautiful breeze wafting through the kitchen.
Fortunately, I had just bought dishwashing liquid a few days earlier.
Unfortunately, it was the $1 cheap stuff on the sale shelf. It didn’t last long, and I had to drain and refill the sink repeatedly to maintain some semblance of suds.
Fortunately, I spent enough time in restaurants and food service earning money for college that I learned how to do dishes efficiently.
Unfortunately, it’s still my least favorite job.
Well, now the dishes are done and scattered on shower towels on our tiny kitchen’s limited counter space. But do you know what? It could be worse — it could be raining.
>It wasn’t a new pony. It wasn’t a 6K clown party. But it was a weekend that took effort, time, and a little bit of cash. Husband took El Grande to a Chicago Cubs game at Wrigley Field.
Big deal, you say. Kids go to baseball games all the time. Well, El Grande loves baseball, and he’s a wee bit different from most kids because he can’t see the game.
Husband got tickets through a professional contact. They had never been to Wrigley Field and had only a slight working knowledge of the city of Chicago, so he had to do some advance work to figure out a route, parking, and travel time. He printed a tentative itinerary in Braille for El Grande and talked him through what to expect. That done, they packed their bags and El Grande’s white cane and hit the road.
El Grande has always loved pro football (he’s my child, after all) and he developed an interest in baseball several summers ago when he got a chance to learn to play. Playing in the Challenger League helped him discover a new understanding of the game. He learned what it feels like to swing a bat and throw a ball. He discovered the shape of the field (how is it really like a diamond?) and what it means to run the bases. Armed with that knowledge, he became a true-blue baseball aficionado.
He checks out the standings and highlights by way of sports radio and ESPN. He’ll “watch” games on television and ask us for any details we see that the announcers don’t cover, like exactly where the ball goes for a home run. We try to get to a few minor league games and at least a couple of major league games a season, usually Milwaukee Brewers.
But why, some might ask, why would a parent take a full weekend, fill the car with gas at $3.10 a gallon, travel four hours from home, fight big city traffic, sit outside for hours in near-90 degree heat, spend all this time and money — for a child who can’t see the game?
Folks, it’s worth it. It’s a life experience. He may not see the details, but he hears the crowd, the announcer, the true crack of the bat, the organ music. He smells the peanuts, popcorn, and hot dogs. He feels the excitement — and Cubs fans are famous for generating excitement! And this time (thanks a million, Joe!) he “caught” a ball that a loyal Cubs fan gave him.
Wow. Take me out to the ballgame, take me out to the crowd… because sighted or blind, America’s favorite pastime is meant to be taken in live.
>It’s hot enough and muggy enough to make me want to hang out in a recliner, under the ceiling fan, in air-conditioned comfort, with a frivolous novel and a glass of iced tea by my side. Well, I did some of that. But I was proud; my day was still riddled with minor accomplishments.
Beast and Tiny in cage in La Petite’s room, chillin’ in the air conditioned house
>Murphy’s Law says that whatever can go wrong, will. Our local version of Murphy’s Law in regards to weather is this: all significant storms will go around our area, unless we are grilling out.
It happened again today — for the third time this summer. The radar looked like we’d once again miss the heart of the storm, so I fired up the grill, and sure enough the thunder rumbled threateningly just as I got the fire started. Luckily, we have a good charcoal grill with a lid and a side vent and a chimney, so I cooked outside anyway. So there! I used an umbrella to check on the meat and wore a rainjacket to bring it in. And yes, the Superburgers were delicious. So were the side dishes: the incredibly frivolous jello fluff and the simple pasta salad, not to mention the chocolate chip cookies that are almost gone.
So, my advice to you drought-ridden folk is this: Grill out more often. It worked for me!
>After nearly two weeks of Not Cooking, the cupboard was as bare as Old Mother Hubbard’s. It was time to call on my alter-ego, Pioneer Mom. Yes, Pioneer Mom keeps her family fed, bakes from scratch, never calls for pizza, and wastes nothing.
Today Pioneer Mom recognized that the weather was perfect for playing in the kitchen. At 74 degrees and with all the windows open, Pioneer Mom baked chocolate chip cookies and started a loaf of homemade white bread.
Now the disclaimer: Pioneer Mom uses modern appliances. The mixmaster helped with the cookies, so as to rest the sore wrist (injured in December starting a stubborn snowblower). The bread is in the bread machine — no hands-on kneading required. Cleaning the kitchen is easy with the help of the dishwasher, too.
But confessions aside, the house smells wonderful and we’ll have good food for supper and snacks. The end justifies the means, even for Pioneer Mom.
>Bonding while shopping: good.
Bonding while shoe shopping: better.
Bonding while shopping for the most favorite shoe of all time in an outlet store devoted to that shoe: priceless.
On the way to something else, La Petite found mention of a Converse shoes outlet mall on a route that we were about to travel. Of course, we made plans to stop. You see, she owns lots (and I mean LOTS) of Converse Check Taylor All-Stars. They are her main choice of footwear, and (this part I like) she almost never pays full price for a new pair. The last pair she bought was in the bargain bin at a tent sale for $5. She walked in with a five dollar bill and a quarter to cover sales tax, and voila! New pair of shoes.
The Converse store was tiny, but had an amazing selection. They saved us a parking space right in front of the door (not really, but we like to pretend when there’s a perfect spot available), and before even going inside, La Petite had her camera out to preserve the moment. Inside, she found 3 pair of shoes that she LOVED. First she found a pale blue-green that she’d been considering for over a year, but never found on sale. Here? $10. Pale mauve, too: $20 instead of $45. The really cool pair was dark blue, a shade missing from her Converse rainbow, and in a special design that lists at $80 on the official web site. Here? $20.
I forced her (life is rough) to accept a gift of a tiny coin purse that was an exact replica of the $5 bargain she had bought in June. Add to the bag a t-shirt with dancing bunnies on it, and then we had to leave before she hyperventilated.
Bonding while shopping: good.
Bonding while shoe shopping: better.
Bonding while shopping for the favorite shoe of all in an outlet store devoted to that shoe: Okay, we split the cost, but it wasn’t much — and that kind of fun has no price tag.
This post has been entered in Scribbit’s write-away contest for August. The theme is Collections.
>I read a post over at BlogHer today that made a lot of sense. In it, Mir (one of my favorite bloggers) talked about balancing her needs with her children’s needs while not neglecting the kids. Da boys’ trip last week sounds like a great example. El Grande tagged along while his dad picked up a new company vehicle and drove it from Florida home to Wisconsin.
El Grande thought the plane ride was the height of luxury, even though they flew coach/business class. The novelty was in the details. Being served a snack and drinks, having individual headphones to choose from the in-flight radio, and being able to use the airplane bathroom on his own all added up to a fun time in his book, which translates to “luxury” for a 14-year-old.
There were moments, such as getting stuck in traffic around Orlando, that slowed them down and could have been real downers. But somehow, the two of them turned them into part of the story, the lore of the trip.
El Grande, with his love of accents, told us of meeting up with an Australian in the elevator of the hotel in Tennessee. He told us how he and Dad bought and shared a box of their favorite Mike & Ikes, but half the box melted in the truck. He counted how many truckers honked the horn when he waved (trip total, 23) and how he swam in hotel pools and at the beach on the Gulf. He listened to country music, his favorite, through parts of Tennessee and Kentucky.
Husband was glad to have him along, even with the extra cost and occasional hassle. El Grande kept him company for the four day drive and even navigated, in the form of reading his Braille copy of the itinerary. They talked now and then about this and that, philosophical and trivial and just everyday things.
They didn’t do many “tourist” type things. It was for the most part just a long, long drive. But the two of them most definitely enjoyed their time together, which is all anyone can ask. Fancy vacation? No. Quality time? You bet.
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We’re not always forgetful. We’ve just lost our rational minds somewhere in the last several months and we’re still looking for them. Maybe they’re underwater…or in the stack of papers with the registration times listed….
>While Da Boys were gone, La Petite and I set a goal: to avoid cooking as long as possible. Many of you can identify, I’m sure — only two of us at home, laid back atmosphere, no schedule to keep, yadayadayada…Here’s our progress report.
Tuesday: Dropped off the boys at the airport. Breakfast was toast and coffee, lunch leftovers, and for an early supper we went to the chicken wing place because it was Tuesday, and wings were cheap. Mmmm. I could be talked into doing that again.
Wednesday: bkfst simple, ran errands all morning, lunch: tried out the new sub sandwich. Again, Mmmm. We shared a twelve inch because it was cheaper than buying 2 six inchers. So far, not only are we avoiding cooking, we’re also finding bargains! I can live with that. Supper? good thing we had all kinds of leftovers in the fridge.
Thursday: Bkfst and lunch similar to Tuesday. Early supper at the bagel shop. Bought a half dozen to tide us over for the next few days’ breakfasts and maybe even lunches.
Friday: does it count if I made tuna salad? The tuna salad sandwich at the sub shop was so good we wanted to make them at home. It took no microwave or stove action, just draining the tuna and adding a few goodies and a scoop of mayo, so it isn’t really cooking. With a scoop on a slice of white flaxseed bread (from the Amish baker at the farmers’ market), we have a delicious sandwich — while still keeping to our goal.
Saturday: finished off the bagels. Picked up Da Boys at the end of their trip. Drive-throughs are useful (in moderation), so one more time we avoided cooking.
Success! I wonder what our goals will be next time the boys are away?