Feat of the Epiphany

 A few years ago, the lights went out in my laundry room and in the pantry.   We put in new bulbs, checked the fuses and tried several unsuccessful work arounds --battery operated and motion sensor lights.  Nothing worked. Not really.  We grew used to hitting the flashlight on our phones when we'd need to search for herb de provence or needed to find the fabric softener.  

This past week, the repairman we asked to help with some tile work, fixed both lights.  

My children and I remain in the dark on this matter.  We walk in like we've always walked in, searching the shadows for the couscous or the bounce dryer sheets, and someone (who will feel quite superior in the moment), will say, "You know, the light switch works." and flick it accordingly with all the smugness they can muster.  However, everyone's been caught groping through the darkness in either the landry room or pantry closet, so everyone's been the smug and the mugged by smugness at least twice.    

None of us remember.  None of us even remember we were the ones who did the mocking last time.  Lost in the moment when we've decided to move along the wash or hunt for the hot chocolate mix, we've now resorted to explaining why we didn't turn on the lights.  The following may or may not have been used by any or all of those of us who use those two rooms on a regular basis and do not flick the switch. 

10) Batman defense: I can see in the dark. 

9) Starwars defense:I don't need to see what I'm doing, I am one with the force and the force is one with me...

8) Saving the earth by saving energy. --this would work if any other lights in the house were turned off ever...

7) Just hadn't made it over to the light switch yet.  --this is mine, I'll get to it..no one buys my stalling thoough.  

6)  Preserving the light switch. It's been so long since we've had one, we're having attachment issues with the mechanism.  

5) Can't find the light switch --because it's dark and it's been so long, we don't remember where it is in the room.   

4) I turned it on, someone else turned it off just to mess with me.    I'd believe this if any of us ever remembered in the first place. 

3) The lightbulbs burnt out.  One of my older sons attempted this one, and I went to get the ladder, resulting in the Reagan policy, "Trust but verify." 

2) I have my cell phone --old habits die hard.   

1) I remembered after I walked in,but knew someone else would take care of it.  (It kind of deflates the smug factor if you bank on others taking care of the task for you) --not sure if it's true, fairly sure it isn't.   

There is hope for change. Today, I found the closet with the light left on...

Sunday Start

Returning to blogging is harder than I thought.  I used to pull threads together from the week and make something fun. I admit, I'm out of practice.   It's like exercise or reading or any other good habit, I have to discipline myself to start. 

So...let's get this party started. 

Ten reasons why I've not blogged with any consistency for the past year...

10) Too busy exercising. (This is a humor blog).
9) Testing out the possibility of this thing called sleep.
8) learning how to play the drums quietly.  Learning precussion is akin to learning the violin. No one wants to hear anything but the finished product, and no matter where or when you practice...someone wishes you weren't. 
7)  It's Monday when this is posting. I'll add Time Managment to the list.
6) Haven't watched anything trending on Netflix or a grown up movie really in years, tried and coudn't focus...realized my tastes have been stunted and blunted by 26 years of parenting, and are the intellectual equivalent of a happy meal. 
5) Marie Kondo paralyzed me when she suggested throwing out books.
4) With ten kids home and 8 needing to do Zooms, on line learning and in some cases, homework,  my computer is practicing self imposed social distancing.
3) Fell into the lucky habit of not needing to write for the blog, because I wrote for other places...but it made me lazy and now, there are all these intellectual dust bunnies to sweep away and I think they've evolved such that I may need to enter into negotiations for them to leave.
2) insert feeble excuse here.
1) Because I used to be a mommy blogger, it's harder to tell stories. My children aren't toddlers anymore, so the antics are theirs, not mine to tell. The medium age in the home is 23.3 and as such, there aren't the same kind of little moments that lend themselves to humor writing, and satire in 2020 is, let's face it, a tad difficult. 

Sure I'll Feed the Fish

Everywhere I am, I am distracted.

What with all the blogs to view, websites to visit, YouTube’s to watch, emails to answer, friends waiting on Face book for me to click on a fish, a crown or a Chinese New Year’s astrology symbol, I may finally catch up on the things people have wanted me to see, read, speak out for or against about, and to know…for the calendar year 1997.

Then, we add in the actual mail,the 42 meals a day I make, 11x3 squares+snacks for 9, the one hour a day I’m supposed to exercise, the 2100 calories I’m supposed to consume in a pyramid fashion with only 15% coming from fats, the 20 minutes of quality time per kid and the drop everything and read hour, actual homework and 20 minutes a day we’re supposed to have the kids practice their musical instruments and the meditation/creative freeform thinking time advocated by most leading experts to prevent brain burn out and mental exhaustion, and I don’t know why I haven’t had a nervous collapse.

Yesterday, I signed six papers, read for 15 minutes with each child under the age of nine, supervised my two teens with an age appropriate parent/child bonding activity of cards and made time for my husband. My to-do list had five phone calls and three bills that also need my attention, a few loads of laundry and a basics grocery shop of the non negotiables, Milk, bread, diapers, chocolate, fruit and diet soda and had topped out at 18. I'm supposed to limit it to ten.

So when my beloved spouse asked me to be sure to feed the koi in the pool on a daily basis, I balked.

The problem is, last year, two weeks post-partum, I ran a Fall Festival at my school, complete with an inflatable maze and roughly 600 people in attendance. It was a blast. However, having successfully run a fund-raiser fourteen days after having a baby, I now have outed myself to my children. I can be organized. I can manage a large scale event. I can even, be on time.

As a result, when I say, “I don’t know if we can fit that into the schedule.” In response to a request for Karate or basketball or music lessons, there now exists a healthy level of skepticism. They’re not going to accept “We’re too busy to do that right now.” Not without a fight anyway.

As a result, I began a search for the Mommy Kryptonite excuse. It had to be plausible enough for use to opt out of future obligations. The first few I tried where shot down hard.

“We can’t add gymnastics on Fridays because I’ve been asked to head up the peace negotiations for the Middle East and that will take at least three weeks worth of preparation. We’d miss a third of the classes.”

"Mom," my six year old looked at me with a mixed expression of benevolence and incredulity, "We can have a carpool."

“I’m not going to the park because I have strict instructions from my doctor not to venture outdoors in temperatures below 65 degrees.” My smart toddlers looked at me, and parroted my own words. "Wear a coat."

“With the economy tanking, we’re saving all our pennies so we can buy a gallon of gas.” Here, my teens took me to task, noting that since August, the price of gasoline has dropped by more than a dollar, and that we'd save a lot more money if I stopped using the speed pass to get myself a diet coke and a twix bar every time we tanked up. Ouch.

And then I thought of it, the kid silver bullet.

We can’t do it because, “Daddy said no.” It worked every time.

So I guess I'm feeding the fish regularly until further notice.

A Good Excuse is Hard to Find

Everywhere I am, I am distracted.

What with all the blogs to view, websites to visit, YouTube’s to watch, emails to answer, friends waiting on Face book for me to click on a fish, a crown or a Chinese New Year’s astrology symbol, I may finally catch up on the things people have wanted me to see, read, speak out for or against about, and to know…for the calendar year 1997.

Then, we add in the actual mail, the 400 plus channels on Dish, all the TV shows Tivo’ed that I haven’t watched, the one hour a day I’m supposed to exercise, the 2100 calories I’m supposed to consume in a pyramid fashion with only 15% coming from fats and the meditation/creative freeform thinking time advocated by most leading experts to prevent brain burn out and mental exhaustion, and I don’t know why I haven’t had a nervous collapse.

Today, I’m supposed to have signed six papers, read for 15 minutes with each child under the age of nine, supervised my two teens with an age appropriate parent/child bonding activity like cards or a video game and also made time for my husband and also for me. On my list of to do are five phone calls and three bills that also need my attention, a few loads of laundry and a basics grocery shop of the non negotiables, Milk, bread, diapers, chocolate, fruit and diet soda. The to-do list had already topped out at 18. I'm supposed to limit it to ten.

So when my beloved spouse asked me to be sure to feed the koi in the pool on a daily basis, I balked.

The problem is, at two weeks post-partum, I helped run a Fall Festival at my school, complete with an inflatable maze and roughly 600 people in attendance. It was a blast. However, I now have outed myself to my children. I can be organized. I can manage a large scale event. I can even, be on time.

As a result, when I say, “I don’t know if we can fit that into the schedule.” In response to a request for Karate or basketball or music lessons, there now exists a healthy level of skepticism. They’re not going to accept “We’re too busy to do that right now.” Not without a fight anyway.

Now, I’m searching for the Mommy Kryptonite excuse. It must be plausible enough for use to opt out of future obligations. So far, the few I've tried have been shot down hard.

“We can’t add gymnastics on Fridays because I’ve been asked to head up the peace negotiations for the Middle East and that will take at least three weeks worth of preparation. We’d miss a third of the classes.” "Mom," my six year old looked at me with a mixed expression of benevolence and incredulity, "We can have a carpool."

“I’m not going to the park because I have strict instructions from my doctor not to venture outdoors in temperatures below 65 degrees.” My smart toddlers looked at me, and parroted my own words. "Wear a coat."

“With the economy tanking, we’re saving all our pennies so we can buy a gallon of gas.” Here, my teens took me to task, noting that since August, the price of gasoline has dropped by more than a dollar, and that we'd save a lot more money if I stopped using the speed pass to get myself a diet coke and a twix bar every time we tanked up. Ouch.

My excuses failed splendidly, and then I thought of it, the kid silver bullet.

We can’t do it because, “Daddy said no.”

So I guess I'm feeding the fish regularly until further notice.