Tuesday, February 21, 2006

All's quiet on the eastern coast

I'm here alone. Nothing but the sound of the towels tumbling in the dryer.

Not that DH's family is loud or messy, but there's something about the quiet that descends upon the house when everyone leaves. Definitely my moment of zen. No more suitcases or air mattresses on the floor. No small juice glasses left on the bathroom counter. (an aside - does anyone else keep a glass in the bathroom? I've never seen it except for when they visit. Weird.)

Still, in a way, it's a sad quiet. Yes, I have my house back, there were times that I thought what more can we talk about, and if I had to do another load of dishes I'd pass out. But life goes back to normal and I miss them.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Happy Valentine's Day

Lookee what DH surprised me with last night. He bought the cranberry color. It's SO snuggly - I even took it to bed with me (and it's around my shoulders as I type this - heh). If they ever make this into a robe, I'll insist on having one (or two).

Monday, February 13, 2006

The in-laws are coming! The in-laws are coming!

DH's family will be here Wednesday evening. We've known about it for the past three weeks, but do you think the house is ready? Nooooooooooo.

Things to do today: buy presentable towels, buy more dishes, clean, clean, and clean some more. Oh yeah, and a trip to the grocery store might be nice.

Trying to sleep seven people in a house with only three beds and not one pull-out sofa is a logistical nightmare. I'm sure there are those of you out there who've had a house full of people and made it work. You might even thrive on all the activity and closeness. Not me. I'm fiercely protective of my privacy and need my space. Ask my kids.
It's especially difficult because we spent all weekend splitting them into separate rooms. No easy feat since they've been sharing a room for the past seven years in this house. It was like moving all over again, only with more toys. Gah.

**We thought we were going to be in for a struggle with the youngest, because he always likes to have someone in his room at night before bed, but he's adapted remarkably well. He got up this morning saying he now sleeps better even when he wakes up at night, because he doesn't hear his brother snoring. Snort!**

So now I've got both of them griping about giving up their "new" rooms. I'm trying to play the good role model mom and tell them how it's only for a week and we don't get to see the family much, blah, blah, blah. But deep down I know I'm a hypocrite, because I'd be griping my ass off if I had to give up MY room. I feel like such a bad & selfish person because I should be celebrating family. They're really nice people and I love seeing them. But they could visit any time, say spring break, when the disruption wouldn't affect the kids so much - like at school. I just don't want to deal with the crankiness.

Feel free to think bad things about me.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

I have become my parents

That's a scary-looking sentence up there.

As much as I've railed against it, it's happening. I can see it clearly in my recent "exchanges" with the teen-ager.

Son - "Why am I always the one who has to put away the dishes? It's always me! You just don't want to do them."
Me - "Because your dad & I are not the only ones in this house who eat off of them and get them dirty. I'm sure your friends have chores, too."
S - "No! I'm the only one who has to do freakin' (my patience hits the wall here) chores! I can't wait to move out!" (slams cabinet doors for added dramatic effect)
M - (voice rising higher) "Oh yeah, we'll I'd like to see how far you'd get if someone wasn't around to do your dishes."
S - "Whatever... this sucks!"
M - "It sucks? Well here, let me get your sleeping bag and thing of go-gurt and off ya' go."
S - mumbles something incoherent.
M - (sounding shrewish) "What?? What did you say? I'm sorry that it takes 5 minutes out of your precious day of video gaming to do dishes. I wouldn't want you to break a sweat or anything." Mind you, he only gets 30 min. a day of gaming. (that's MY dramatic comeback)

And on it goes, for another 10 minutes. I'm exhausted at the end, and tossing and turning about it before I go to sleep at night.

Why. Why am I trying to argue with a 13 year old? Like my mom always said, it's like arguing with a brick wall. I understand that now, but don't understand why I'm perpetuating the process. I can't seem to find a better way to deal with it. And books on the subject, once they're past the Dr. Sears years, are sorely lacking. They all seem to point to the fact that I should've started better communication about, oh, the time of birth. Well, it's a little late for that now. So what am I going to do?

I feel like it's only going to get worse, and I'm scared.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Am I the only one who...

  • sees the mildew becoming a science project in the shower stall that four people share?
  • notices that the a/c intake filter has enough dust on it to create another planet?
  • knows that the little brush in the silver container next to the toilet bowl is not just for decoration?
  • understands that windows/mirrors don't clean themselves?
  • is grossed out by the toothpaste residue in the sink?
  • realizes that the plates don't just dance themselves off of the table and into the sink a la "Beauty & the Beast"?

I guess I am.