Debunked

For the better part of 2020, Alyssa has been asking that we take down the bunkbeds in her room.

They stood in a corner of her room, taking up space and just being used as storage for her plethora of stuffed animals.

She’d had a full-sized bed in there for three years, so the room was pretty cramped.

Each time she’d mentioned taking the bunkbeds down, Tom would tell her that he needed to take pictures of the beds put together so he could list them for sale. He also listed not having anywhere to store the frame and mattresses once we took them down.

She recently asked again, saying that I’d said she could store everything in my room for the time being. He told her that once she got the bed cleaned off, he’d take pictures and we’d go from there.

When she got home from work on a Sunday, I told her to go take everything off the beds and let her dad take the pictures.

He went up, took the pictures, came back down and said something snippy about having to move crap from under the bed.

Sigh.

Then he said he’d go find an Allen wrench so we could start dissembling the bed frame.

Well.

Guess who else in this house has Allen wrenches!?!

I scurried up those stairs and fetched tool box. No, it’s not pink.

Alyssa and I were well on our way to finding the correct wrench when Sir Thomas made his way back up the stairs with his own Allen wrench set.

As he and Lyss worked to loosen the bolts I asked if I should get a baggie for the hardware.

The response I got was a VERY short, “Are you asking her?”

Alyssa and I shared a look. That response was so out of proportion to the question I’d just asked that I simply said, “Okay then. I’ll go get a baggie.”

I returned shortly with a baggie in which we put the bolts as they came out of the bed.

Sir Snips-a-lot was all giggles by this time. Apparently, the mood had passed.

I mildly mentioned that maybe he hadn’t needed to be quite so irritable with me. He apologized and we moved on.

The bed came down and the room has been rearranged to the teenager’s liking.

The next morning, I received another apology for the biting remark said during the takedown of the bunkbeds.

I knew we were pushing him to do something he didn’t really want to do but in the end, it took about a half hour of his time. So…I accepted his apology and all’s well in the Ordinary household.

Smelly

Olivia and I go to my mom’s house at least twice a week during the work week.

I walk in the door each afternoon around 5pm and she greets me with, “Can we got to Gram’s?”

Sometimes I groan and tell her that I’m tired and just want to be home.

But other times, I hand her my phone, tell her to call Gram and see if she even wants company (if she’s home, she’s ALWAYS up for our visit) and off we go.

I do realize that O is stuck at home all day every day and so our visits to Gram are her way out of those four walls. Poor kid has had quite the sucky summer.

One recent afternoon we arrived at Casa Gram’s and found the dear woman hard at work canning relish. Olivia walked in and gagged at the smell. There was a strong smell of vinegar in the air.

After about fifteen minutes, Liv was able to remove her mask (she was ever so glad she had it) and declared that she’d gone ‘nose-blind’ and was able to breathe without gagging. She’s a funny girl.

After an hour or so Olivia and I left and once in the car, I declared that our car smelled very much like Gram’s relish. It wasn’t so much unpleasant as it was…there.

I smelled myself just to make sure the smell really was from the relish and not because my deodorant had stopped working.

Yikes. I reeked.

When we got home, I immediately added ‘new deodorant’ to our grocery list. I figured my body had done that thing where it just stops letting the deodorant work and my natural stench was pushing its way through. Not a pleasant thought. I wondered if I’d stunk all day at work but everyone was just too polite to say anything. What a horrible thought.

I have this real fear of being the stinky girl that everyone notices but no one lets in on the secret of the stench.

But wait! After dinner (and being disgusted by my own smell) I went up to take a shower and de-stink myself.

Guess what?

When I took off my shirt and sniffed myself sans shirt, there was no stink. I didn’t have horrible body odor after all.

I retrieved the shirt I’d just shed and sniffed. Yuck!

It wasn’t me. It was the shirt. The shirt I’d been wearing at my mom’s had absorbed ALL THE SMELLS and was horrible.

But man was I relieved to not be the stinky chick. If people at work are talking about me (and I seriously doubt they are. I try hard to blend into the woodwork) it’s not because I’m smelly. I take a lot of comfort in that knowledge.

I’m leaving ‘new deodorant’ on the grocery list, though. I’m going to buy a brand I don’t currently have so that I have new on hand just in case my current choice does stop working.

One can never be too prepared when it comes to stink prevention.

This is Not a Political Blog...

Okay, I realize that this is NOT a political blog. But I think everyone who reads what I write here can probably guess where I stand on the current administration.

While my family and those close to me are very aware of my opinion of our current ‘leader’, the rest of the world, as in acquaintances and co-workers, probably aren’t. This is mostly because I am not a ‘shout it from the rooftops’ type.

But…I can barely stand the masks several co-workers are wearing these days. These masks have 45’s name and the numbers 2020 on them. Ugh!

I try and imagine if I were to wear a “Biden – 2020” mask to work. Wouldn’t that be fun?

But see, it’s not so much that I’m a Biden fan. I’m more of a “I will vote for anyone who is NOT our current president.”

Let’s all remember that any vote for Biden this November is a vote AGAINST 45. Can we all agree that a vote against the monster currently in the Whitehouse is a good thing? If we can’t agree to that, I supposed we can agree to disagree but in this case, I will be thinking that you are wrong.

I simply cannot imagine how anyone can listen to that moron speak and NOT realize that he’s insane. He’s horrible. He’s a misogynistic, racist, homophobic asshole.

And right now, he’s ‘leading’ our country.

It makes me sick to my stomach to think of it and yet there are people wearing masks over their faces with his name on them.

I just…can’t.

Simplifying

I read several blogs and follow a few Instagram that talk about downsizing and simplifying their lives.

I don’t necessarily want to downsize. I kind of like my 2600 square foot house. I love that Tom, the girls and I can all go to our separate corners when needed.

But I would like to simplify our lives and our stuff. We have so many things, clutter that just makes our huge house look messy and disorganized. Of course, the fact that everything IS disorganized doesn’t help.

So…what do I do first?

Purge the stuff?

Probably.

Some days, though, it feels like a monumental task and I don’t even know where to start. I know that if I start small it will feel less overwhelming.

At work one day, I realized that I currently have 17 different kinds of oils for my diffuser. I probably only like about half of those but I try and use all of them through the week just to try and use them up. That’s so stupid.

But! I told myself recently that I am NOT allowed to buy any more oils until I use up some of the ones I already have. See, I can practice a little restraint.

Speaking of oils and diffusers, I have at least seven different oils upstairs for the diffuser by my bed. The problem is, I think I only like two or three of those. I need to offer the others to Alyssa for her room. The problem I have with at least one of them is that it smells like Desitin, you know, the cream you wipe on a baby’s butt to prevent diaper rash. Yeah. Not necessarily what you want to smell as you’re trying to fall asleep.

That’s one area I could organize and simply.

Look at me, already working through where to start. This whole stream of consciousness thing might work out for me yet. Only too bad for the three of you who still read here, having to wade through my ‘deep’ thoughts.

Lulled (alternate title: False Complacency)

I feel like we’re in the quiet before the storm.

Things are calm right now. We’re muddling through the summer and doing our best.

I still get frustrated with Olivia on a daily basis. I fuss at her over the water all of the bathroom floor (she washes her hands and then shakes them all over the floor. It drives me insane.) as well as her over-use of toilet paper. One day a few weeks ago, she went to get Alyssa to help her unplug an upstairs toilet. O had basically put an entire roll (sans the actual cardboard roll) in the toilet and then tried to flush. Sigh.

But really, those are just annoyances. Her moods have settled. *Knock on wood*

Alyssa’s in band camp, so we’re watching each other closely since we’re all around people more and more these days.

Alyssa and I attended her prom. She was beautiful. It was fine. I worked with other mothers (there were some dads in attendance but they didn’t really work so much as they stood around watching the moms work…seriously.) We served the kids their dinners, we made sure their drinks were full. We wore masks most of the time but there were times when we didn’t. So…

I’ve filled out the survey put out by the school asking what type of school we’re looking for this coming year.

Alyssa insists she is going to school. She does NOT want to do online learning. I don’t blame her. It’s her senior year.

Olivia needs to be back in school. But I also need to manage her and Tom’s anxiety over her being in school.

The survey asked if we wanted in-school learning, online learning or a blended version. I checked blended. Alyssa balked at that. She said that there was not blended option.

But wait, there was! I told her that the survey wasn’t locking us into anything. I reminded her that everything is negotiable. We’ll figure it out. If Lyss goes to school five days a week and Liv goes three that would be perfect.

Olivia will not be riding the bus this year. Since Lyss drives, Olivia can ride with her. There is no need to put her on the cesspool that is the school bus. That’s on less area of anxiety we’ll have to manage.

Olivia is perfectly willing to wear a mask to school each day. She’d love it if they could just eat lunch in their classrooms. She said she’ll actually eat if that’s an option. She’s even said she’ll speak louder from behind her mask so everyone can hear and understand her.

Her classroom is already small. I think there are a total of nine kids in the class where she receives individual instruction. It should be fairly easy for those nine kids to social distance.

I don’t know. I want what’s best for all of us. Just like every other parent out there facing these decisions.

Obviously my girls’ physical health is important but their mental health is important too. Their social health, while not quite as important as their physical and mental health, is still something we need to take into account. They need more than just to be wrapped in protective layers and kept at home. I wish we could do just that but it’s not healthy for any of us, not in the long run.

Cooking Fail

I arrived home one recent Thursday afternoon.

The minute I walked in the door, I smelled garlic. Huh, I thought. Someone made Olivia what we fondly call ‘white noodles.’ It’s the Knorr brand ‘creamy garlic shells.’ The sauce is white, hence the name ‘white noodles’.

Once I’d put my purse down and taken my lunch dishes out of my bag and put them in the sink to be washed, Olivia ran to tattle on her dad and sister.

She declared, almost triumphantly, “Both Dad and Lyss failed at making me food today.”

“Oh?” I inquired, prompting her to continue her soliloquy.

“Dad burned the white noodles and Lyss made macaroni and cheese that was too dry.”

Then, she informed me, “I think you should just take me to McDonald’s for dinner since no one in this house can cook.”

Well, then..

Tom insisted that the white noodles were fine.

I took a bite of a single shell and asked him what he wanted from McD’s.

He said he’d eat the noodles. I shrugged and said okay but we were going to McDonald’s because those noodles were gross.

Olivia snarfed down her two cheese burgers and two thirds of an order of large fries. Tom had the last of the fries with his grody old white noodles.

Natural Consequences

So parenting is hard, right? We can all agree to that. These kids…damn.

These days, my older teenager is so over her parents actually, you know, parenting her. She wants to know why she can’t make her own decisions and learn from her own mistakes.

Natural consequences and all that.

Sigh.

I get it.

I really do. Her friends are older (N and her friends are definitely older, as in two+ years older, so there’s that.)

Also, most of her friends are the baby of their families. These kids have parents who are my and Tom’s ages and yet, these parents have been there and done that parenting thing and they’re just sort of over it.

I’m not over parenting. I started late and feel like all these seventeen years later, I’m just now finding my parenting groove. But she’s over me and Tom setting rules.

Let me back up. She’s a really great person. She obeys rules, she likes to make people happy. She’s not being rebellious or difficult. She just wants to enjoy her summer and if she’s tired the next day at band camp because she stayed out too late the night before, well, that’s on her.

At least, that’s how she feels it should go.

None of her friends are expected to be home by 10 on a Tuesday night, for Pete Sakes! Even those friends who also have to be at the school the next day at 8am for band camp. Those friends can just waltz in whenever they want. Heck, Tessa got home recently at 6am.

I did remind this daughter of mine that Tessa’s mom is SO over parenting. I love Tessa’s mom but I also know this woman is done. So, Tessa coming home at 6am is fine. But my daughter rolling in at 6am is not fine.

And of course, I know she’s not asking for that kind of freedom. I do. She’s a reasonable person. She’d just like to be able to make her own educated decision about what time she should be home because that’s what her friends get to do. She’s always the one who has to leave just when the fun is starting.

But see, if we, her parents, can help her by imposing rules that will stop her from reaping the natural consequences of her own less than brilliant decisions, shouldn’t we? At what point are we smothering her?

I am so torn by all this. I see her side. I also want to protect her. She’s chomping at the bit for independence. But I also can’t help but wonder how much of this is at her girlfriend’s suggestions. I don’t think N is a bad person. But she’s going to be 20 in November. She’s had a year and a half of freedom and I get why she’d be frustrated with us for insisting that A continue to act like a minor living in her parents’ house with her parents’ rules.

At this point, I’m babbling. I’m just so…frustrated isn’t the word. Alyssa is frustrated. Tom is frustrated.

I’m mostly sad because I can’t figure out how to make them both happy.

One funny thing that happened after all this is one Saturday we (the girls, my mom and I) were doing our usual Saturday fun. Olivia and I were bickering as we do. She can just be such a pill. My mom said to Lyss, who was SO over her sister, "Just think if your mom didn't have Livie to parent. All that parenting attention would focused on you."

It gave Alyssa just a little appreciation for the mere existence of her sister.