I'm so glad I wrote yesterday's post about anxiety. Truly, it's just better to come right out and admit something than try and pretend everything is perfect. I feel a lot better just having spoken the truth instead of hiding it. Today has been a good day with very little anxiety.
And I realize a fair number of people in my community read my blog and know me personally, so I may be seen as 'that anxious nutcase' from now on, but I don't really mind. Better to have a qualifier rather than just be 'that nutcase,' which we all know is a well established fact anyway.
That being said, I have upped my level of insanity this week by having two sick little gremlins at home. Funny, because every so often I hear from my working mom friends 'Oh, I could never stay at home with my kids. I don't know how you do it. I'd go crazy from boredom/breaking up fights/mundane day-to-day stuff.'
I disagree, kind of.
First of all, most people who have spent at least a year parenting are already as loopy as a bowl of Cheerios, so there's no 'going crazy' be done. Mission complete, know what I'm saying? Second, if you have any social aptitude at all, you can easily fill your time with friends, outings and all sorts of things to keep the little claws retracted. Hence, stomping out most fighting and boredom. Third, mundane it is hardly ever, as long as you get out there and enjoy the fact that you're mistress of your own universe: Champion of pajama bottoms. Owner of the ceramic coffee mug. Ruler of the park bench.
All bets are off, however, when your child get sick. Once a bad cold, stomach bug, or flu sets in, I'm one grouchy kid fight away from a straight jacket and a nurse checking under the tongue to make sure my happy pills are swallowed. And this state is where I have sat for the last four days plus a weekend; trapped inside these walls with two coughing, runny-nosed gremlins who are just sick enough to stay home and just well enough to take out their frustrations on each other.
Crazy, fighting, mundane. Twitch-twitch.
So as to reduce the aforementioned twitching, we've been taking Coughy and McSneezy out in the yard a bit on nicer days, which just happens to be where I found the most coolest thing ever like ever that has ever been found.
We bought this house nearly three years ago from an awesome woman named MC. She and her three kids lived here for several years until she decided it was time to move to a home with less upkeep. Meanwhile, we moved in with our three kids, rolled up our sleeves, and have been continuing the task she started of lovingly renovating and restoring this 1946 postwar home which just happens to be in the neighbourhood I grew up in.
It stands to reason we'd move from a shiny new house bought eight years prior to an older home. We're simply not new home people, especially when its situated in a new neighbourhood. I'm just not a cookie cutter community kind of gal. I tried it for eight years and feel I gave it my best shot. In the end, we found the kids had no room to play and the houses were so close to each other we were practically dry humping our neighbours.
I like living in a home that is pretty but has nothing to prove, stands out simply because every house looks different on the street, and is spaced far enough apart from our neighbours that nobody is getting accidentally fondled. But what I love most is the half-acre with a backyard surrounded by overgrown hedges and huge trees. Space rocks. Space with privacy rocks even more.
And space with privacy with cool treasures in it rocks the hardest.
When MC gave us the keys, she said 'Anything you find the yard is now yours. Enjoy!'
We didn't realize that wasn't meant to be funny. Since then, we've found six or seven balls, some army men, cars and a frisbee or two. Every time the boys find something, I hear squeals of delight as they run their new treasure over to show the rest of us. Little did I realize, however, that I'd be the one squealing one evening earlier this week when I found a little treasure of my own.
Geekster and I were taming the beast that is sickly Spawnling by exploring the great outdoors with him before bed. While in the far back of the yard, we decided to do our quarterly ball-retrieval exercise (stop giggling, perverts) by digging through the hedge that has what we think is a patch of poison ivy growing in it. Except it's not growing right now, so it's a good time for Geekster to be pulling out the balls.
Didn't I say "no giggling"? Sheesh.
While scouring the hedges, I pointed at a yellow half circle partially buried in leaves. 'Honey, what's that?' I asked. He shrugged and went closer. 'It looks like part of a bowl or something. Let me grab it.'
What he pulled out was this:
Beautiful, right? I instantly fell in love with it. I love old mixing bowls, especially free ones that grow in hedges. But where did it come from?
I posted a picture on Facebook and tagged MC in it. She was surprised to see it, and told me it was her grandma's bowl. She has no idea how it got lost in the backyard, but suspects illegal activities conducted by her teens (I second that guess, as I now have my own teen and this doesn't seem so far fetched).
She then said I was welcome to keep the bowl, as long as I promised to pass it down to the next homeowner. That suits me just fine.
MC's grandmother, Lucette, is now 92 and destined to become a legend in my neighbourhood. I have promised to concoct an amazing - and possibly ever so slightly untrue - story about this bowl so that it can be passed down from one home owner to the next with pride.
Perhaps Lucette and her mother used that bowl during the great depression and fed countless school children who would have otherwise gone hungry.
Maybe Lucette was a WWII spy/housewife who poisoned an entire company of Hitler's men with ginger cookies a la salmonella, mixed in this very bowl.
Maybe Lucette herself buried the bowl in the backyard after the unpopular next door neighbours went missing. Wouldn't want to leave any evidence lying around...
... Okay, maybe not the last one.
At any rate, I feel like we found something really special in those cedar hedges. MC and Lucette's bowl will be taken out for every special occasion, every neighbourhood BBQ, and most certainly left as a gift to the next homeowners.
When they can pry the house keys out of my cold, dead hands, that is.
Any ideas for a great "Lucette and the bowl" legend? We need to come up with something spectacular. Also, what's the best thing you ever found? Dish! (You know that pun was intended)
And I realize a fair number of people in my community read my blog and know me personally, so I may be seen as 'that anxious nutcase' from now on, but I don't really mind. Better to have a qualifier rather than just be 'that nutcase,' which we all know is a well established fact anyway.
That being said, I have upped my level of insanity this week by having two sick little gremlins at home. Funny, because every so often I hear from my working mom friends 'Oh, I could never stay at home with my kids. I don't know how you do it. I'd go crazy from boredom/breaking up fights/mundane day-to-day stuff.'
I disagree, kind of.
First of all, most people who have spent at least a year parenting are already as loopy as a bowl of Cheerios, so there's no 'going crazy' be done. Mission complete, know what I'm saying? Second, if you have any social aptitude at all, you can easily fill your time with friends, outings and all sorts of things to keep the little claws retracted. Hence, stomping out most fighting and boredom. Third, mundane it is hardly ever, as long as you get out there and enjoy the fact that you're mistress of your own universe: Champion of pajama bottoms. Owner of the ceramic coffee mug. Ruler of the park bench.
All bets are off, however, when your child get sick. Once a bad cold, stomach bug, or flu sets in, I'm one grouchy kid fight away from a straight jacket and a nurse checking under the tongue to make sure my happy pills are swallowed. And this state is where I have sat for the last four days plus a weekend; trapped inside these walls with two coughing, runny-nosed gremlins who are just sick enough to stay home and just well enough to take out their frustrations on each other.
Crazy, fighting, mundane. Twitch-twitch.
So as to reduce the aforementioned twitching, we've been taking Coughy and McSneezy out in the yard a bit on nicer days, which just happens to be where I found the most coolest thing ever like ever that has ever been found.
We bought this house nearly three years ago from an awesome woman named MC. She and her three kids lived here for several years until she decided it was time to move to a home with less upkeep. Meanwhile, we moved in with our three kids, rolled up our sleeves, and have been continuing the task she started of lovingly renovating and restoring this 1946 postwar home which just happens to be in the neighbourhood I grew up in.
It stands to reason we'd move from a shiny new house bought eight years prior to an older home. We're simply not new home people, especially when its situated in a new neighbourhood. I'm just not a cookie cutter community kind of gal. I tried it for eight years and feel I gave it my best shot. In the end, we found the kids had no room to play and the houses were so close to each other we were practically dry humping our neighbours.
I like living in a home that is pretty but has nothing to prove, stands out simply because every house looks different on the street, and is spaced far enough apart from our neighbours that nobody is getting accidentally fondled. But what I love most is the half-acre with a backyard surrounded by overgrown hedges and huge trees. Space rocks. Space with privacy rocks even more.
And space with privacy with cool treasures in it rocks the hardest.
When MC gave us the keys, she said 'Anything you find the yard is now yours. Enjoy!'
We didn't realize that wasn't meant to be funny. Since then, we've found six or seven balls, some army men, cars and a frisbee or two. Every time the boys find something, I hear squeals of delight as they run their new treasure over to show the rest of us. Little did I realize, however, that I'd be the one squealing one evening earlier this week when I found a little treasure of my own.
Geekster and I were taming the beast that is sickly Spawnling by exploring the great outdoors with him before bed. While in the far back of the yard, we decided to do our quarterly ball-retrieval exercise (stop giggling, perverts) by digging through the hedge that has what we think is a patch of poison ivy growing in it. Except it's not growing right now, so it's a good time for Geekster to be pulling out the balls.
Didn't I say "no giggling"? Sheesh.
While scouring the hedges, I pointed at a yellow half circle partially buried in leaves. 'Honey, what's that?' I asked. He shrugged and went closer. 'It looks like part of a bowl or something. Let me grab it.'
What he pulled out was this:
Beautiful, right? I instantly fell in love with it. I love old mixing bowls, especially free ones that grow in hedges. But where did it come from?
I posted a picture on Facebook and tagged MC in it. She was surprised to see it, and told me it was her grandma's bowl. She has no idea how it got lost in the backyard, but suspects illegal activities conducted by her teens (I second that guess, as I now have my own teen and this doesn't seem so far fetched).
She then said I was welcome to keep the bowl, as long as I promised to pass it down to the next homeowner. That suits me just fine.
MC's grandmother, Lucette, is now 92 and destined to become a legend in my neighbourhood. I have promised to concoct an amazing - and possibly ever so slightly untrue - story about this bowl so that it can be passed down from one home owner to the next with pride.
Perhaps Lucette and her mother used that bowl during the great depression and fed countless school children who would have otherwise gone hungry.
Maybe Lucette was a WWII spy/housewife who poisoned an entire company of Hitler's men with ginger cookies a la salmonella, mixed in this very bowl.
Maybe Lucette herself buried the bowl in the backyard after the unpopular next door neighbours went missing. Wouldn't want to leave any evidence lying around...
... Okay, maybe not the last one.
At any rate, I feel like we found something really special in those cedar hedges. MC and Lucette's bowl will be taken out for every special occasion, every neighbourhood BBQ, and most certainly left as a gift to the next homeowners.
When they can pry the house keys out of my cold, dead hands, that is.
Any ideas for a great "Lucette and the bowl" legend? We need to come up with something spectacular. Also, what's the best thing you ever found? Dish! (You know that pun was intended)