My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Mars Is On Vacation

(harriet - this title's for you)

My horoscope for today said:

A little unexpected free time comes your way. Make an effort to catch up with your friends and family -- or do absolutely nothing, if that's what your heart desires. A little time for self-care works wonders on your spirit.

And damn if that wasn’t the case, more or less.

I had today off. Which is nice. What was even better is that the daycare center was open. Which meant I sent the children off to school (because I am a selfish BAD MOTHER) and I had the house to myself.

Like I told Dusty’s teacher this morning after I told her I’d be at home if anyone needed to get in touch with me, “Four days in a row is a bit much.” “I hear you,” she replied and chuckled, her arms lovingly around my daughter. I heart Miss Ellen almost as much as Dusty does.

So, what did I do today? Well, I always have a list of things to do when there are no children around. Today, I detailed the bathroom. Or, at least got most of it done. I’ll do touch ups tomorrow or on the weekend. I had originally planned to use the red paint I’d bought (months and months ago) to just paint blocks of color in the now-peachy bathroom. Since we’ve been watching The Electric Company lately, I got inspired by the cloud-like design they use in the intro, the skits, throughout the show. I have lots of little cans of paint leftover from painting the kitchen (when I was 8 months pregnant) in retro ‘70’s colors so I painted – free hand – some rainbow/cloud designs in red, “peat” (brown) and “goose down” (light brown). I took pictures of the not-quite-finished results and will post them eventually. It actually turned out nice, if I do say so myself.

My husband (who, thanks to the state deciding at the last minute to make today a holiday which means his second class’s syllabus is a mess now, was home as well) and I also went through the mountains of toys and threw some stuff into three piles: baby toys to give to people with babies, toys for Goodwill, and crap to throw away. This is the kind of brutal chore that can only be done when the children (esp Dusty who has sentimental attachments to scraps of paper and three year old Valentines Day cards!) are not here. We gleefully tossed a lot of poorly thought-out “gifts” (read: burdens) from grandparents, shredded books and items that were broken and/or missing crucial parts. But, mainly a lot of stuff we hate like a metal Tweety Bird purse and a board book about teddy bears that does not appeal to children. I really, really love getting rid of stuff. Especially stuff I despise. Good bye, deflated mylar balloon! See ya never, unnecessary decoupaged basket! Up yours, weird dollar store rabbits that have no purpose!

I was shocked to discover how many bags and purses Dusty owns. God only knows where all these things came from but we’re going to have to sit down soon and cull some of them before the birthday/Christmas onslaught of new crappy gifts she doesn’t need.

Then, I got some reading done and some much needed puttering. Did I write? No, apart from this entry. Did I read any of this month’s submissions from my virtual writers’ group? No. I painted, I decluttered, I typed this, I read, and I enjoyed an entire day with no baby gates, no noise, no whining, no constantly catering to anyone’s whim but my own. I wantonly walked around my house eating candy that did not have to be hidden. I didn’t have to secretly unwrap it under a pillow so no one would hear it with their candy-monitoring ears. I didn’t have to quickly stash it if someone came in the room unannounced. I didn’t have to fix ANYONE a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with no crust not cut at a diagonal on a Sagwa plate. I did not have to refill a sippy cup with soy milk. I did not have to listen to screaming, howling, fussing, whining, complaining, or yelling.

And, as an added bonus, both Red and Dusty got their groove on this morning during “Heartless.” Red bounced in her car seat and Dusty snapped her fingers.

Ah! I feel a bit more human now.


4:33 p.m. ::
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