Friday, November 5, 2010

Domestic day and disaster.

It is 2:30 p.m. and I just sat down for my first break of the day. It has been crazy busy, as was yesterday. I am kicking into domestic high gear here, trying hard to keep a clean house and feed my family. Yikes. I have never been terribly good at this job, and in truth, it really is hard to prioritize between kids and the other tasks assigned to me. Yesterday I spent the entire day cleaning. Sadly, it was not done in a fit of inspiration to do a better job. Instead, it was because I knew there were relatives from far away coming to see our place and I wanted it to look nice in here. The kicker is, I always want it to look nice in here, but getting it that way is so difficult I often get overwhelmed. (Ironically, I just got interrupted to feed the boys a snack. I probably sat for a total of four minutes. Ha.)

Anyway, yesterday I got the place looking pretty nice and I even washed the kitchen floor...a job I do too infrequently to admit. I polished my piano, also a rare job, but not nearly as rare as the floor washing. Without listing every chore I did, suffice it to say, I ran off my feet all day and by the time Mike got home I was exhausted and kind of burnt out. (Did I mention I cooked too??)

Today I got up and my house was spic and span. That is inspiring. I was happy with my accomplishments and determined to keep it beautiful in here. Hm. With the existence of a spotless kitchen, I decided today would be a good day to bake buns. I have not baked buns in many, many months. Maybe even since spring. No matter. I decided to go for it, seeing we are running out of bread in this house. After all, I had nothing else to do seeing my house was so clean. So I started the yeast rising in the mixing bowl while I unloaded the dishwasher so I could clean up the breakfast dishes right away. It took a lot longer than normal to mix the dough because I was doing so many things at once, but my Micah interruptions were not too frequent and Cody had gone downstairs to play.

Downstairs. Right. That brings me to an important point in my story. Yesterday, Cody broke the baby gate. I mean, he basically ripped it off its hinges. (This is a homemade gate.) So we had to put the piano bench in front of it in order to hold it in place and keep Micah from disaster. Last night, Mike put a regular baby gate on. It was the kind you just open so it presses on the walls or doorway on either side of it, holding it in place. I hate that gate, and because we didn't use hinges to attach it, it's really awkward to put on and off. So, whenever a boy wanted to go downstairs, I had to lift him over the gate and place him carefully on the stairs so he could carefully proceed downward. I don't know what Cody weighs. I just know he was 42 pounds about a year and a half ago. He's a big boy. Jamie weighs about 33 pounds. Jamie is not a problem to lift over. Cody is a challenge, but I can do it.

So there I was, still gathering ingredients and getting started on my bun-making expedition when Jamie requested to go downstairs. This was a good thing. I had to take a break to take him to the toilet, which has turned into a small battle every single time, but we got it done. Then I carefully lifted him over the gate and he went downstairs. Phew! Yay! I went back to my buns and got eggs out to add to the yeast mixture. Uh oh. Jamie was at the gate again complaining he wanted to come upstairs. I was annoyed. He JUST went down there, and I was not about to lift him over again and have him turn around and request to go back down again. So I said no. The reaction was not good. He got very mad and was shouting at me to let him upstairs. I told him to go back down and play for a while first, but it was too late. He was already working into a big tantrum and he began shaking the gate while shouting. Big mistake. The gate came off with a crash and Jamie flew down the stairs backwards, screaming all the way down. I freaked out. I ran to see him and he was laying on his back at the bottom of the stairs. Concrete, by the way. We have no carpet yet. The stairs do, but not the basement floor. I wanted to rush down to him, but I could not. Instead, I had to run for Micah and get him into his room where I deposited him in his crib so he wouldn't come tumbling down next. Then I ran down the stairs. (Now I had two boys balling; one upstairs and one down.) Jamie was okay. He said his bum hurt, not his head. I was so mad but so terrified at the same time. He didn't just trip. I am thinking he went down very forcefully because he was yanking on that gate. Then I was also faced with the dilemma of not having a gate. I could not get that darn thing on again. I now have a coffee table on its side against the stairwell.

So the first part of my morning was dicey. Did I mention I was making a lasagna at the same time? I had meat in a frying pan and ingredients all over the place. I spent literally my entire morning and the first two hours of my afternoon in the kitchen. Not my favorite place to be, but I made a lasagna which I will cook for supper tonight, plus buns and cinnamon buns which I just made the icing for and iced. Phew. The kitchen is not spotless, but hopefully I will get it there in a while. I realized today that no matter how clean your house is when you wake up in the morning, a day of meal preparation and child care will take it down so it is just as hard to clean. And now, Micah is awake, so my disjointed blogging session will have to come to a close. It will be a tough evening for me as Mike is going away overnight. I might break out a good book or something. I gotta get Micah! He sounds mad.

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