Please Prepare For Descent

I love to hear those words after flying for nine hours.  Once this announcement is made from the pilot I to put everything away in their proper-easy-to-get-to places.  And after everything is stowed I start to relax (or tense up because I think we will crash) knowing that soon -- one way or another we will be on the ground.  I feel the same way now only I am not flying.  Just like in preparation for landing I am now making preparations for my long awaited move.

Prepare for descent could mean anything to anybody I suppose.  Descent into hell.  Descent into madness, chaos, darkness or misery -- been there and done all of those.  For me prepare for descent means butterflies and rose gardens.  It is no surprise to anyone who knows me how much I dislike where I live let alone Arizona.  Preparation for moving and selling a house is more complicated than preparing for landing yet very similar because they both involve stowing things away.  Also with similar consequences -- crashing and burning.  Of course we want to get the most for our house and at the very least what we paid.  Unfortunately the market doesn't agree with what we want for our house but we are going to ask for it anyway hoping there is someone out there who wants this house badly enough to pay it.  So while we are waiting I am preparing myself for my inevitable descent into something better!

Summer is Just Around the Corner

Is there anywhere in this country where the sun and clouds reign equally?  Nothing is more depressing to me than to wake up to yet another sunny day.  Perhaps it is because I realize in about two months the temperatures here will be climbing back up into the 80's which only heralds in the over 100 degree days soon thereafter.  With the high temperatures and unending sunshine comes the days of constant noise from the air conditioner running non-stop, continuous fight against the onslaught of scorpions trying to take over our home, and finally the disgusting overwhelming heat that keeps us confined to the house full noise and scorpions.

Granted weather in Arizona for five months out of the year is quite pleasant if you like continuous sunshine and temps in the 60's to 70's, but the other seven months are quite unbearable if you like to be outside.  My friend who lives in New York complained she and her family (including the dog) were becoming tired of being inside since winter began.  She said even the dog won't go out in the cold.  I say wait until your dog gets here -- she will be stuck inside, again, only this time she really can't go out because her paws will get burnt or she could die of heat stroke from trying to walk from the park to the house.

I just long for walks in the cold, clouds and rainy days.  I wouldn't mind the sunny days so much if there just weren't so may of them and they weren't harbingers of what is to come.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

Three year old insights:

• “I tooted. Did you smell it?”
• "Do you understand what is coming out of my mouth?”
• "The light is green…go faster.”
• “Move out of the way. Beep at them momma."
• “To Infinity and Beyond.”
• “Bullshit.”
• “You are the meanest momma and I am going to shoot you (with the little toy gun he found at park).” I hope this isn’t a sign of something more formidable to come.
• After being told he is going to a different “Little Gym”: “This gym is sucked up.” I prefer not to tell you what he really meant and just take this as a cue I need to stop saying the “F” word.

My oldest son showed up on Christmas Eve …high, here are some righteous insights he had to pass on:

• “Yeah I smoked pot two hours ago, but I’m not high.”
• “What’s wrong with pot? it is natural and from the earth.”
• “You just don’t worry about my life – I got it handled. I know what I am doing.”  This quote is my personal favorite and one that makes me laugh frequently.

Poop, Puke and Paint...Oh My!

Today is the first day after working three 12-hour days in a row.  Granted, the second day was only seven hours, but still tiring none the less.  I can't believe how exhausted I am.  My friend Jeana, also an RN albeit retired now, used to sleep nearly to noon after working mulitples and I could never understand why.  Now I do.  Alas, I don't get to sleep to noon anymore thanks to a very beautiful little blonde.  I also don't get to have nice stuff anymore either.  Well, I do buy nice stuff and it doesn't stay nice for very long.  Which brings me to how atrociously depressing this first-day-off-in-three has been. 

I awoke this first-day-off-in-three to clouds -- I felt blissfully happy.  I figured today was going to be blustery and wintery like winter is supposed to be -- but it was not.  First thing after breakfast I go to fold the laundry in the dryer.  As I am taking out each white piece of clothing I notice ugly black stains on my shirts and new Victoria Secret underwear -- each item resembling a Jackson Pollock painting.  Long story short -- I forgot to take a pen out of my scrubs.  It is usually the teenager, toddler or dog destroying my nice stuff - this time it was my own carelessness.  For example, a few years ago I bought a $500 hand loomed area rug from Pottery Barn.  I didn't have it three months before the two dogs had ruined several areas of "loomage" with their playing.  I still covet this rug dearly so today when I noticed a faint green stain I just felt sick.  The green stain looked very similar to previous stains I had cleaned up and those were due to dog bile - more specifically Jack the Dog "throw up."  After spending fifteen minutes trying to get the stain out I can only assume this happened on one of the last three days because it looks quite "set in" so I give up and go outside.

While outside watering the plants and cleaning the patio I notice paint on my $800 patio furniture.  Red paint.  Also, red and yellow paint all over the flagstone.  Seriously.  Can this get any worse?  All I get out of Ethan is "Daddy and Jace were painting".  Painting a project on my $800 patio furniture. I don't even know what to say to this..... so I will leave it at that.  At this point I go to the bedroom with my head in my hands because I can't believe this day: stains on the clothes ($$), stains on the patio furniture ($$$$) and a big green stain on my rug.  I start to sit down on the chest at the bottom of my bed and on the antique quilt I bought in Vermont ($$$)....POOP stains. Apparently Ethan had pooped outside earlier without telling me and had sat on my antique quilt while I hung pictures begging me to let him on the bed (thank god I said no to that). 

To say this day has been completely draining and feeling very much like work (cleaning poop and bile) is an understatement.  Poop seems to be a recurring theme in my life and of my blog.  I only wish it were as funny in real life as it seems to be to those who read my blog.  If I weren't so exhausted I would probably be laughing my ass off right now -- okay not really.  At this point poop just isn't funny anymore. 

Perhaps tomorrow after a good nights sleep I will be less exhausted-- and maybe -- just maybe the weather will be more agreeable with clouds, much colder temperatures and snow.  I think I may feel much more positive about poop -- after all tomorrow is another day.

"Yes We Got Along!"

The question I hear most since I got back from my trip to Boston was -- "Did you two get along?"  I am not sure if this alludes to me and my unwarranted pretentious disposition or just a question one would ask when you plan a vacation with someone you haven't seen in 15 years.  I hope it is the latter.  When you think about it planning a four day trip with someone you haven't talked to or seen in fifteen years, let alone sharing a hotel room, does seem rather risque.  Oddly, or not, it was if we picked up where we last left off. 

We last left off when her youngest, and my only one at the time, both were three.  Now hers are 18 and 21 and my oldest is 18 and youngest is three.  For her it must be like de ja vu because she keeps calling my now three year old, Ethan, "Jace" his older brother - who at the time was three.  It seems as though much has changed yet who we are at the core really hasn't.  I feel very fortunate to have reconnected with my friend whom I have known since third grade.  Even more fortunate that her memory of things is much more preserved than mine and I get to hear stories of our childhood, and later, letters -- of things I had forgotten.

For those who anticipated I would have scared my dear friend away with my critical unabashed unfounded and pretentious wisdom -- I didn't. Nor did her snoring scare me away.  We look forward to our next trip.