So, Jose showed, and finished with great detail. The place is looking spiffy, well, the paint job that is....now for the fun part- Clean up time! I painstakingly weeded out the old DVD's which no longer get watched, in hopes to pass them on to younger viewers- all the Baby Einstein, Rescue Heroes, Thomas the train and all his cohorts all need to find a new home where they will be adored once more. For the 2-300 CD's, I suggested to the Bear to stop at ye-ole Best Buy (and I don't think that it is always a best buy, by the way) to pick up some storage cases to put them away and off of my book shelves.
Of course someone has to put them all in there! GEEE, I wonder who that will be? Yeah, yeah, yeah...and I have been on the rocks with the Bear whom growls daily about the mess, even though most of it is his paper-trail-of-who-knows-what-to-where. Then there is the lovely coating of white dust on every square inch of every surface from the sanding of newly frosted plaster...ahhhh, the beauty of a really big mess- makes me want to leave my home and never return. To add to the beauty of it all, the Bear loathes the upstairs hall wall color- which everyone else seems to like- oh, he told me that my mother-in-law saw the paint colors and did not like the hall color either....but this is coming from a person who painted her gorgeous huge living room with a bright peach color- yikes! I suppose, to each their own- especially if you like Key Largo on steroids... OH, an back to finding a new cleaning service to eradicate the fine layer of silt and dog prints from my floors. WHY is it I cannot locate a cleaning person who will clean like I can clean??? SUPER frustrating...after all- it IS their job- right? To clean? Their JOB- to CLEAN- right? So why is it, they all come here and use a billion paper towels and a mop??? What happened to cleaning on your knees, and using old socks and underwear with wood cleaner to clean with? Something happened between Poland/Mexico/Russia and here in the last few years....they became "Americanized", that's just a guess though.
Griffin had his 1st day of camp today, along with his very 1st dodgeball game. He isn't much for violence, so I watched him for the first 5 minutes- he mostly put his hands up and winced as a ball flew past him- remarkably, he didn't get hit very early on- even though the balls are no more than dense foam mini sofa cushions- not the hard-core red rubber nubby balls which reverberated the classic ""THWAANNNG"" as it rebounded off your head....naturally followed by the faint echoing sing-song scream of "You'rrre ouuuut!" .....the little snots- I hated that game. It never helped that I was perpetually 3 feet tall until 5th grade- yeah, sooooo much fun. It's not a game, it's the early teachings of nihilism. Oh, will we ever learn from the teachings of history, or in the very least, civics?
Monday, June 25, 2007
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Jose- where can you be???
Jose, the guy who also did the demo/construction of our kitchen back in October, and is also a painter by trade, came on Friday to paint the upstairs. Well, he did some of the prep work- patching cracks, nail holes, etc...did one coat, sanded, skimmed another coat, then left. A good day's work all in all.
However, Saturday, he was unable to return because he was going to help his cousin out on another job. Fine. Saturday, it turned out, the Bear whom was supposed to be out of town, was in town, and I was out at mi madre's anyway. Okay, so Monday rolls around- NO Jose....tried to get him on his cell- straight to voice mail. Tried a couple of times throughout the day, same thing- plus, what irritates me more than anything- NO response.
Tuesday (today) comes around, same drill as above. I then remembered that I have his home #. Fortunately I get his nephew Juan, who said that he will try to get in touch with him and relay the message(s) to him to call me! I am living with half dusted floors and walls, and no completed work. Now, knowing some things from my old life of Interior Design, I know NOT to pay these guys until the work is done- but I did give him a little dinero for traveling and getting some lunch etc...in the form of a check- $150 bones, not much. Did I mention that I was buying the paint? Yeah, so it's not like he is taking me for a ride or anything....I prefer to get the brand of paint that I want anyhow. I can't help but think that somehow, Jose just might like cervesas mas fria a little too mucho- just an inkling, but I suspect alcohol as a suspect to his absence...I've not ever smelled booze of any sort on his person, but I can't help but think that with a bit of money in the hand- he likes to have a good time instead of be responsible to his work.
As it stands, still, No Jose. No paint. No satis-faction! Ay-yay-yay!
EZ
However, Saturday, he was unable to return because he was going to help his cousin out on another job. Fine. Saturday, it turned out, the Bear whom was supposed to be out of town, was in town, and I was out at mi madre's anyway. Okay, so Monday rolls around- NO Jose....tried to get him on his cell- straight to voice mail. Tried a couple of times throughout the day, same thing- plus, what irritates me more than anything- NO response.
Tuesday (today) comes around, same drill as above. I then remembered that I have his home #. Fortunately I get his nephew Juan, who said that he will try to get in touch with him and relay the message(s) to him to call me! I am living with half dusted floors and walls, and no completed work. Now, knowing some things from my old life of Interior Design, I know NOT to pay these guys until the work is done- but I did give him a little dinero for traveling and getting some lunch etc...in the form of a check- $150 bones, not much. Did I mention that I was buying the paint? Yeah, so it's not like he is taking me for a ride or anything....I prefer to get the brand of paint that I want anyhow. I can't help but think that somehow, Jose just might like cervesas mas fria a little too mucho- just an inkling, but I suspect alcohol as a suspect to his absence...I've not ever smelled booze of any sort on his person, but I can't help but think that with a bit of money in the hand- he likes to have a good time instead of be responsible to his work.
As it stands, still, No Jose. No paint. No satis-faction! Ay-yay-yay!
EZ
Friday, June 8, 2007
That last day of school feeling
Couldn't get on yesterday due to the power outage-no juice from about 10-4...buzz kill. The worst part of the day:
G sliding into first on the concrete sidewalk in front of the school- just after his picnic lunch yesterday......poor thing- he looks as though he'd been dragged behind a crazed horse (see photo below of both gooney kids).
So today marks the last day of G's pre-school days....SOOOO bittersweet. I lament the time which has passed all too quickly, and rejoice in the new adventures he and I/we will encounter in the upcoming months leading up to Kindergarten.
Just returning from p/u G from school- to find out that (I) didn't get the teacher I wanted G to have for Kindergarten in the fall. I am torn with this decision....let it go? After all, the teacher he will have is very good- just a different teaching method than the one I wanted him to have.
I feel that since I am his advocate- I need to step up and get G with the teacher whom I believe has a tighter grasp on method, anyway. The other teacher is still very good, just more of an ethereal approach to teaching- more mat time, more group learning. Whereas, the teacher I want him to have is more regiment in her approach- more old-school, a little more disciplined, in your desk, eyes forward, pay attention, work together. These years are the most formative, the foundation for the rest of [his] scholastic career; and some professional opinions say, the casting mold for the rest of their lives.
So to rock the boat, or to not rock the boat......I've always been the boat rocker anyhow- so I don't really know what my question is because I believe I already have my answer.
EZ
G sliding into first on the concrete sidewalk in front of the school- just after his picnic lunch yesterday......poor thing- he looks as though he'd been dragged behind a crazed horse (see photo below of both gooney kids).
So today marks the last day of G's pre-school days....SOOOO bittersweet. I lament the time which has passed all too quickly, and rejoice in the new adventures he and I/we will encounter in the upcoming months leading up to Kindergarten.
Just returning from p/u G from school- to find out that (I) didn't get the teacher I wanted G to have for Kindergarten in the fall. I am torn with this decision....let it go? After all, the teacher he will have is very good- just a different teaching method than the one I wanted him to have.
I feel that since I am his advocate- I need to step up and get G with the teacher whom I believe has a tighter grasp on method, anyway. The other teacher is still very good, just more of an ethereal approach to teaching- more mat time, more group learning. Whereas, the teacher I want him to have is more regiment in her approach- more old-school, a little more disciplined, in your desk, eyes forward, pay attention, work together. These years are the most formative, the foundation for the rest of [his] scholastic career; and some professional opinions say, the casting mold for the rest of their lives.
So to rock the boat, or to not rock the boat......I've always been the boat rocker anyhow- so I don't really know what my question is because I believe I already have my answer.
EZ
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
The 2-1/2 year old slayer
So last night Steve (aka Dah-dee) was putting P to bed, and through his montage of characters who "...love P", came down to me, mommy, and it went pretty much like this:
Dah-dee: ".....grandma & grandpa love you, and mommy loves you..."
P: "...no, mommy doesn't love me..."
Dah-dee: "Oh, that's not true, why do you say that?"
P: "Because I don't like mommy"
Dah-Dee: "You don't like mommy? Why don't you like mommy? She loves you very much!"
P: "No, I don't love mommy, mommy doesn't like me, I don't like mommy."
So he calls me into her bedroom, and has her repeat what they have talked about. I was devastated and somewhat appallingly humored all at the same time- I mean, she's only 2-1/2, she probably isn't totally cognisant of the words she is using- but then again, they were going through the list of people; cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc...and she pretty much loves everyone except me and the dog (Sunny). I can understand the dog- he is totally psycho, and the consensus around here is that neither kid likes him- and I'm on the fence with our weirdo love/hate relationship- between me and the dog that is. See below, the psycho photo for yourself...I nearly lost a finger just picking him up for the photo- can you say CUCKOO?
But, me? Her own mother? Her daily provider of noodles and tushie pinches? Her tea-party pal and constant connoisseur of prepared plastic foods? How could she betray me like that? Could she remember the days of distress (over the choice of name we gave her) that my parents put me through while I was still in the hospital with her? Could she harbor that anguish and translate it into negative feelings toward herself??? So many questions.
I asked her again this morning if she loves me, shaking her head, she still said no- albeit her sheepish grin...I couldn't help but repeat the fact that I love her more than the sun and higher than the stars and asked her if she understands, and with a grin and a nod, she said yes.
Ah, the little schizos that they are at this prime toddler age- it's a miracle they don't run the world- or do they??
EZ
Dah-dee: ".....grandma & grandpa love you, and mommy loves you..."
P: "...no, mommy doesn't love me..."
Dah-dee: "Oh, that's not true, why do you say that?"
P: "Because I don't like mommy"
Dah-Dee: "You don't like mommy? Why don't you like mommy? She loves you very much!"
P: "No, I don't love mommy, mommy doesn't like me, I don't like mommy."
So he calls me into her bedroom, and has her repeat what they have talked about. I was devastated and somewhat appallingly humored all at the same time- I mean, she's only 2-1/2, she probably isn't totally cognisant of the words she is using- but then again, they were going through the list of people; cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc...and she pretty much loves everyone except me and the dog (Sunny). I can understand the dog- he is totally psycho, and the consensus around here is that neither kid likes him- and I'm on the fence with our weirdo love/hate relationship- between me and the dog that is. See below, the psycho photo for yourself...I nearly lost a finger just picking him up for the photo- can you say CUCKOO?
But, me? Her own mother? Her daily provider of noodles and tushie pinches? Her tea-party pal and constant connoisseur of prepared plastic foods? How could she betray me like that? Could she remember the days of distress (over the choice of name we gave her) that my parents put me through while I was still in the hospital with her? Could she harbor that anguish and translate it into negative feelings toward herself??? So many questions.
I asked her again this morning if she loves me, shaking her head, she still said no- albeit her sheepish grin...I couldn't help but repeat the fact that I love her more than the sun and higher than the stars and asked her if she understands, and with a grin and a nod, she said yes.
Ah, the little schizos that they are at this prime toddler age- it's a miracle they don't run the world- or do they??
EZ
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Mutual of Omaha!
Yes, I live in the city, but you'd think that I live out on the freakin' prairie! GOOOODmornin' Mr. Skunk! He blasted my dog right in the kisser at about 8:15a- what the hell- I thought that they sleep in the day time?! Even Worse- my client (a Yorkie) got it too- thankfully not as badly as Sunny. The little stink ball slips past me and proceeds to run upstairs and hide under my bed- I could just die! After throwing a couple of slippers at him (I had no choice, he was in the middle of the bed and I couldn't reach him), he came out from under the bed enough where I could nab him.
So, I call my husbear (his name is Steve but everyone calls him Bear or the Bear) to come home for back-up; fortunately his office is 10 minutes from home. It's now 8:20 and G has to get to school at 9 AND P is still sleeping and I knew that she is going to wake at any given moment with all of the commotion.
Sunny is outside rolling in the grass, dirt, mulch and even up and down the length of the fence- JUST to be sure that he smears ALL of that lovely Eau d' Pepe over the entire yard. I have to say, the worst part is that my dog is not exactly the most amicable patient- in all honesty, he's the A-Hole of the animal kingdom, the Hannibal Kujo Lechter of the dog world. Naturally, I need to use a muzzle, or as I like to call it: Silence of the Head (one of his many nicknames is Headla)....fortunately, the Bear gets home just in time to take G to school, and then wash ole schtink-face.
There is one thing you need to know about my dog Sunny, and that in his past life he was a Theatre Star! Max! The lights! REALLY, his personality is the equivalent of an aging theatre queen where you can just see him reminiscing the days of yore....."...I was a star, damn it, a star I say! They all adored me!"... and then the lamenting... "....now I'm just a has-been, all washed-up, if they only had an ounce of the talent I hold in the tip of my tail, they would be lucky!"....I know it's all absurd, but if you know Sunny, you would understand what a bitch he is. There is also his Jesus phase- but I'll get in to that some other time.
MAN! would I love to live trap the skunk(s) some how, and take them to Berni Stone's office and just let 'em loose! It has been almost 4 years of nothing but schtinky-schtank- we're talking putrid-eye-watering-spit-on-the-ground-gag-o-rama, with a side of the horking-gag sound....I didn't want to kill these vermin before- but now it's war!
EZ
So, I call my husbear (his name is Steve but everyone calls him Bear or the Bear) to come home for back-up; fortunately his office is 10 minutes from home. It's now 8:20 and G has to get to school at 9 AND P is still sleeping and I knew that she is going to wake at any given moment with all of the commotion.
Sunny is outside rolling in the grass, dirt, mulch and even up and down the length of the fence- JUST to be sure that he smears ALL of that lovely Eau d' Pepe over the entire yard. I have to say, the worst part is that my dog is not exactly the most amicable patient- in all honesty, he's the A-Hole of the animal kingdom, the Hannibal Kujo Lechter of the dog world. Naturally, I need to use a muzzle, or as I like to call it: Silence of the Head (one of his many nicknames is Headla)....fortunately, the Bear gets home just in time to take G to school, and then wash ole schtink-face.
There is one thing you need to know about my dog Sunny, and that in his past life he was a Theatre Star! Max! The lights! REALLY, his personality is the equivalent of an aging theatre queen where you can just see him reminiscing the days of yore....."...I was a star, damn it, a star I say! They all adored me!"... and then the lamenting... "....now I'm just a has-been, all washed-up, if they only had an ounce of the talent I hold in the tip of my tail, they would be lucky!"....I know it's all absurd, but if you know Sunny, you would understand what a bitch he is. There is also his Jesus phase- but I'll get in to that some other time.
MAN! would I love to live trap the skunk(s) some how, and take them to Berni Stone's office and just let 'em loose! It has been almost 4 years of nothing but schtinky-schtank- we're talking putrid-eye-watering-spit-on-the-ground-gag-o-rama, with a side of the horking-gag sound....I didn't want to kill these vermin before- but now it's war!
EZ
Monday, June 4, 2007
Thanks to Phaneromania
Well P., you dun did it! I am officially set up to get this sh*t started- WHAT a can of worms! I'm at the dining room table/office/art cart- with my 2-1/2 year old (going in 14) daughter- also a "P", whom is happily painting and sticking Elmo stickers onto a huge pad of paper- markers are out in full force too...
Seems as though I will be peeling some of those Elmo stickers off of the floor....I have to get in the shower and de-stink before I p/u the G man at school- his last week of Pre-K! He is so psyched about Kindergarten (in September), that at night before bed, all last week, he kept saying- "S0 tomorrow I start Kindergarten! I'm so excited!!"- I hate to deflate his enthusiasm, but I have to tell him (as to spare him from disappointment the following morning) that "No, not tomorrow- September- you have summer camp with Niko ALL summer- Every day! THEN when summer camp is done, you will be all ready for Kindergarten!"
He sighs, then gets happy about spending every day this summer with his bestest friend in the whole wide world! I'm simultaneously happy and totally depressed that he will be in camp from 10-3 every day- I just ADORE him and his company, I will miss him SO much every day- I can already feel the lump in my throat forming and my colon ready to blow....freakin' digestive tract always has to chime in with expression when I'm feeling intense emotion- Put a cork in it lady!
AND so sounds the phone- to the tune of "Won't you call me sweetheart"....my husbear to the rescue.
EZ
Seems as though I will be peeling some of those Elmo stickers off of the floor....I have to get in the shower and de-stink before I p/u the G man at school- his last week of Pre-K! He is so psyched about Kindergarten (in September), that at night before bed, all last week, he kept saying- "S0 tomorrow I start Kindergarten! I'm so excited!!"- I hate to deflate his enthusiasm, but I have to tell him (as to spare him from disappointment the following morning) that "No, not tomorrow- September- you have summer camp with Niko ALL summer- Every day! THEN when summer camp is done, you will be all ready for Kindergarten!"
He sighs, then gets happy about spending every day this summer with his bestest friend in the whole wide world! I'm simultaneously happy and totally depressed that he will be in camp from 10-3 every day- I just ADORE him and his company, I will miss him SO much every day- I can already feel the lump in my throat forming and my colon ready to blow....freakin' digestive tract always has to chime in with expression when I'm feeling intense emotion- Put a cork in it lady!
AND so sounds the phone- to the tune of "Won't you call me sweetheart"....my husbear to the rescue.
EZ
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