Procrastamom

What we have in the cupboards/fridge: sugar, tea, baking soda, bacon bits.

What we need: paper towels and EVERYTHING ELSE.

Budget: $300

After fueling the van: $200

Then we need a new hallogen lightbulb (tube)in the laundry room: $190

Mom, Dad, it’s allowance week!: $150

Hot lunch money is due Monday: $130

Don’t forget the soccer uniform deposit (just. the. deposit!): $30

We could start our flower boxes this weekend!: $5

What we’ll have in the cupboards/fridge on Sunday night: sugar, tea, baking soda, bacon bits, 4 litres of milk

What to use instead of paper towels: toilet paper, Safeway flyers, sleeves.

Andie, last night at the dinner table:

“Daddy, I want to start being a vegetarian.  Except for beef, pig and chicken of course.  I still want to eat those.”

I finally watched Juno last night with my daughters. Yes, I’m probably one of the last people on Earth who hadn’t seen it, but I’ve been trying for months to get Richard to take me to the movies and he’s been avoiding seeing this “chick flick” by working many extra hours, pretending there are important tasks in the garage and faking illnesses. He also took a shine to claiming that we were suddenly, desperately poor and chastising me for buying too much Pirate’s Booty at Costco. As a lover of this white cheddar, popcorn delight, I submit that you can never buy enough Pirate’s Booty.

The Cheap Bastard finally did download get us the movie. We laughed so, so much and I enjoyed it thoroughly. It now sits on my list of favourites. It was fun seeing all the locations where they shot the scenes from all over Vancouver and the Lower Mainland. The scene where she’s laying on the van and then writes the note to Vanessa was shot outside the Honey & Milk store located in our community. We all squealed.

Also, from this day forward I do declare that:

I will no longer be referring to penises as such. They will hereby be called Pork Swords.

As a former pregnant teen myself, I found it interesting to see how the issue was handled in Juno. I think people naturally gravitate to situations in which their lives have similarities, if just to find common ground with others. Kind of a me too thing — characteristics that they can relate to. I didn’t see myself very much in Juno, of course because my situation was quite different from hers: I was almost nineteen when I got pregnant, I kept my baby, I eventually married her father, etc.

The similiarity I found was in the part where she tells her parents that she’s pregnant. They were so calm and accepting and her step-mother quickly jumped into planning for doctor’s appointments and other care. When I sat my parents down to give them the news, it was with great fear and a heavy lump in my heart. My parents had always indicated that should I ever do anything stupid, like get pregnant or addicted to drugs, they would be greatly disappointed and probably distance themselves from me by at least kicking me out of the house. I remember it like it was yesterday and not at all like over seventeen years ago. After a tearful, “I’m pregnant” spilled from my lips, there was an audible silence that seemed to stretch on for ages. Finally, my Dad looked me square in the eyes, smiled and said, “well, that’s something to look forward to!”

It most certainly was.

You know, as a typical busy mom (are there any other kind?) I make no claims to fame about the cleanliness of my house. I’m no Martha Stewart, I’m no June Cleaver. I don’t make my own cleaning products from vinegar and essential oils and I don’t own an apron. I do, however, use the time I have before going to work each morning to make sure my house is clean and tidy. I load the dishwasher, pick up stray laundry and wipe the counters. Dammit, if a burglar is going to break into my house in the middle of the day, he’s going to have to work to make his own mess!

Even though we don’t own this house, I take a lot of pride in it. While we live here and pay the rent it is “our house” and I believe we should care for it in that manner - like it is our house.

Today, Adam didn’t go to school because he was sick and Richard stayed home to care for him. Mondays and Tuesdays are brutal for me at work, as they are the days of the week that I do my major payroll duties. Rich is lucky enough to have a job that he can do either in the office or at home, so he’s usually tasked with the job of looking after sick kids.

When I walked in the house at 5:30 tonight, after a particularly sucky day at the office, my first thought was, “wow! Rich must have been swamped with work today.” Because? Because he never would have let the house get this bad if he had time to tidy up. (answer: he did no actual work today — cue exploding wife!)

I stormed into the living room with my camera where Adam asked why I was taking pictures. To send them to Better Home and Gardens kid, what do you think?

Then I stomped into the kitchen:
Syrup bottle. (not in cupboard!) Empty Kraft Dinner box. (not in recycling bin!) Dirty pot. (not in dishwasher!)

Then! from this angle? Just, oy! And gross. And ick.

The final straw was this:

Remember on Little House on the Prairie when Harriet and Nels Olsen adopted that girl Nancy after Nellie got married and moved away? Remember how she used to scream, “you hate me! You haaaaate me!” Yeah, that was me after I saw this.

Both of my younger children went to school today with murder in their eyes. They were thinking specifically of my murder, preferrably one where some mom-like-monster appears and makes me clean my room until I keel over from exhaustion and lack of trampoline time. Then, when I’m almost but not quite dead, she’ll make me dig out all the things that I hid under the bed and put them away in their proper place! With the final twist of the knife, that monster will make me take a shower even though I just had one on Thursday.

My 10 year-old son had covered his class picture in Pokemon stickers. The same class picture that he had, weeks before, begged me (with tears!) to pay ten dollars for. Like a sucker I reluctantly wrote the cheque, even though I knew he’d be getting a free yearbook in June and all of his classmates would be pictured in there for him to keep forever. When he brought the class photo home on Friday, he declared it the suckiest picture ever taken of him. His transition lenses had darkened because they took the picture outside on a sunny day and he decided he looked like a blind kid. I stuck it on his windowsill and told him to cut the dramatics. This morning when I found it covered with Pikachu and Grombleguts and Moomoolicks (I don’t know! It’s Pokemon! Does it make any sense to YOU?) it was me who busted out the dramatics. My blood started to heat up in my veins and I began speaking in tongues. He was grounded! He didn’t deserve anything we got for him! Did he think money grew on trees! Did he think we were rich!

(oh the cliches…oh, how I sound just like my mother sometimes)

Then at 8:28 I picked my lunch up off the counter and told Andie to get her shoes on for school. We have to leave promptly at 8:30 every day to get her to school and me to work on time. Just a minute she said, as she turned off the TV and headed into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. Oh, and she needed to pack her lunch and could I just sign this permission slip for her to play rugby while I was standing there waiting anyways? This is when my blood pressure got so high that steam came squirting out of my ears and a high-pitched, loud scream came shooting out of my lungs. She was grounded! The TV was never to be on in the mornings ever again! Did she think we had time to spare! Didn’t she think of anyone but herself! We’re late, we’re late, for a very important date!

(and the TV thing? Yeah, right!)

The boy flashed me a look that could kill as he slammed out the front door and then stomped across the grass, his shoulders hunched and his fists tight with anger. The van was silent and the air was thick on the way to school. Instead of the typical I love yous and have a good days, there was only a slam of the car door and the back of a very angry blonde head as she stamped across the road.

As I drove to work my body temperature slowly simmered down and the only heat I felt was the eventual embarrasment that spread across my cheeks as I realized that I hadn’t handled things well. I’d let the time get away from me once again this morning and we’d all been pushed into a frenzied rush…one where it was easy for me to get angry over the stupid little things. I hadn’t told the kids I loved them before school. I hadn’t even said goodbye, have a great day. As I sat in traffic this morning I realized that even though I have over sixteen years experience at this job of Parenting, I’m still not very good at it. No wonder they’ve never given me a raise.