Juggling Life

In Which Mr. Fix-it Does A Very Sensible Thing

In our house we like our food spicy--lots of garlic, cayenne, cumin--that type of thing. We also like black pepper. If you are the waiter at a restaurant where they don't trust you with your own pepper mill you WILL be standing there a long time.

About ten years ago, we had a salt and pepper set. I don't remember what it looked like, but I know it wasn't ceramic. It certainly didn't look like any of these because these are totally not how we roll at Casa Juggling Life (not that there's anything wrong with them!).

We had taken our usual step of putting the pepper in the salt shaker as it has more holes. Honestly though, every night we were shake, shake, shaking to get enough pepper on our food. One night, Mr. Fix-it stopped right in the middle of the shaking and got up from the table. He went out to the garage and he got out his Makita cordless drill and he drilled larger  holes in the shaker top. My mom and I looked at each other in amazement. Never, ever in a million years would either of us have thought of doing that. It made us happy.

Today we sport a high output/low rotation pepper shaker!

 

In Other News . . .

I. Am. Done. For. The. Semester!

Can I get a Woop-Woop? I know I can from Mary Alice and Professor J (who found a video that says it far better than I could--a little Alice Cooper and the Muppets anyone?).

OMG people--I wanted to make sure the Woop-Woop was right so I googled the lyrics to the song. Not what I thought I was singing along to AT ALL! I'm assuming our radio station must have been playing the "clean lyrics." Either that or I really need my hearing checked.

True Confessions: I Have A Laundry System

Mrs. G's mother  (as mothers are wont to do) was giving her a bit of a hard time during a recent visit. Apparently, one of Mrs. G's shortcomings is the lack of a laundry system. Now those of us that know and love Mrs. G are convinced she doesn't have any shortcomings, but Mrs. G's mom is not convinced.

Back to the laundry system. In reading the comments, along with the widespread support of Mrs. G and the outrage of daughters everywhere at the judgementalism of mothers everywhere, there was mockery of those who have a laundry system.

At the risk of exposing myself to ridicule in the bloggerhood, I'm going to admit to having a laundry system, share it, and give my rationale.

First, the system. I don't have a laundry room--I have a washer and dryer in the garage with some shelves above them. I also have a couple of rods for hanging clothes (one for air drying, one for clean clothes). I also have a couple of hampers and a laundry basket.

Each morning I grab the clothes from the hampers in each of the four bedrooms on my way out to the garage to feed the dogs. It's just a minute to sort them into their appropriate hampers since I do it every day. If I have a full load, I start one. I usually do 2 to 3 loads every other day; I'm done with laundry by 8:30 a.m. on weekdays.

I never put anything in the dryer unless I'm going to be able to deal with folding it as soon as it's done. Closet space is not an issue in my house, so I hang up all t-shirts and all pants (except for jeans). The clean shirts hang above the washer/dryer and the air dry and need-to-be-ironed clothes hang on a separate rod. Shorts, underwear, socks, p.j.'s, etc. get folded and put into a laundry basket. Towels and that sort of thing get put away immediately most of the time.

I leave all the clothes in the garage during the week and once a week I put everything in piles on the pool table (although a dining room table would work as well). Each family member knows that putting their things away once I sort it is a priority. If they don't put it away in a timely manner, my head explodes (a la katydidnot).

Why do I have a system? Because I'm basically lazy. A system allows me to complete work with a minimum of time and effort expended. Everyone always has clean clothes and it just doesn't seem like that much work. I never (unless I go out of town) have to face Mt. Laundry. Doing laundry efficiently and quickly allows me to spend time on things I'd rather be doing--like blogging about my laundry system!

Three Cheers for SB!

I actually had a different post for today, but I'm going to interrupt my regularly scheduled blogcast to brag about my youngest daughter.

My daughter is a natural athlete. For many years she played softball, but she got tired of that. She wanted to do cheerleading. I convinced her to play volleyball. She did, but she still wanted to do cheerleading. I tried to convince her to play water polo. She saved enough money to cheer for Pop Warner by babysitting (a not small sum of money, btw). We let her cheer.

She liked it and decided she wanted to try out for cheer in high school. She started gymnastics in hopes of getting her round-off/back handspring.

Last week was try-outs. They try out in April for next fall. There were 80 girls competing for 36 spots. The week before try-outs she was at the gym almost daily--she's had the round-off/back handspring for a while, but doing it on the tumble track is a lot different from doing it on the floor.

The day of tumble try-outs almost all the girls chickened out. She was only one of 3 freshmen that tumbled--and she nailed her move. I was so proud of her for doing it. She's only had about 4 months of gymnastics (although she's had about 2 years of doing all the moves on our neighbor's trampoline), so it was a real leap of faith.

The actual "try-out" day was Friday, with the list posted on Sunday morning. I told her how great it was that she did her best, she was a winner in my book for doing the tumbling when most people let fear stop them; luckily, if she didn't make it, there were other sports she could play. Not making a team can sometimes help you grow. All true.

Sunday morning came, with butterflies in both our stomachs. You all know how it is when your child really wants something; you'd really like it for them to be happy (especially when they've worked so hard).

She made it. Yay! If you've done the math you realize about half the girls that tried out did not make it. Some of these girls are her friends. She feels badly for them.

A group of the girls that did make it went out yesterday and made t-shirts to wear to school today--I made it! shirts. SB is not participating. She made the point to these other girls that this is going to just shove it in the faces of the girls (their friends?) that they did not make it. That perhaps the moment of celebration is not worth the pain it will cause.

She did not prevail, but she did make her opinion known. I think it's cool she made the squad. I think it's way cooler that she stood up for her friends.

A Job Well Done

This is what I did Sunday morning. I find it's always a good idea to put off your ironing until a) you must do it or your husband will have to go to work shirtless and pantless and b) a new record for the hottest April 13 on record is being set.

 

I'm not going to say that I enjoy ironing, 'cause I don't. I do, however, enjoy my family and myself looking clean and well-pressed. To achieve that look, an iron must be involved. The other thing I enjoy is the satisfaction that comes from a job well done. The most menial of tasks can sometimes provide that satisfaction.

Even if you don't enjoy cleaning (and who does, really?) or other household chores, you can still get something out of having done the chores. That fleeting (oh-so-fleeting) moment when the ironing/laundry/dishes are DONE is wonderful. Even if it doesn't last for more than about 2 minutes.

It does help you get through the doing when you have 3 TIVOed episodes of High School Confidential to watch while you iron!

Teens Will Be Teens?

Since I have three teenagers at home (17, 15, 13), one of my main motherly duties is checking up on my kids. Danger Boy calls it spying; Mr. Fix-it and I like to call it parenting. Big Red is in the final semester of his senior year. He doesn't tell me much of what's going on (okay, he tells me nothing), but I hear things through the grapevine. I've got a friend whose son actually likes to dish! Right now the high school party circuit is in full swing.

What's shocking to me is how many parents accept that teenage drinking is inevitable. If not openly condoned, it is certainly winked at. Don't ask, don't tell is the de facto policy among many of the parents in my neighborhood. "Just as long as they don't drive . . ." "I'd rather have them be safe at home .  . ." "We did it when we were kids."

                                Does this look familiar to anyone?

Yes, many of us did. I am one of the many that started drinking in my senior year of high school. Today I look back on the risks and I took and I cannot fathom not trying to prevent my kids from making the same stupid mistakes I did. I got lucky. Lucky is not a parenting plan in my book. If you need more convincing than the memory of your own misspent youth, check out this Washington Post article. 

Big Red and I have a running joke about partying. I tell him "It's your job to try and my job to stop you. You do your job and I'll do mine." The result has been that, although we've had a couple of incidents, for the most part he just doesn't go out much. I was pretty pleased when the phone calls started flying about a drinking party not too long ago. When I got the call asking where my son was, I was happy to be able to say, "Sitting here next to me."

So many parents worry about their kids being made fun of, or of them not being popular, that they let them go to parties when they know there will be drinking. Not me. I will bust your ass in a heartbeat if I think you're stepping off the line when it comes to drinking or any other drugs. And it's not like he doesn't have friends, he does. I'm sure he is sometimes places where underage drinking and other illicit activities are happening--but he can always use the fallback of his overprotective parents and their nosy ways as an excuse not to partake. Of course this means that I frequently have to wake up at midnight on a Saturday night and have a coherent conversation while we stare deeply into each other's eyes and I slyly sniff. It's not just the babies that interrupt your sleep!

I'm sure he's not going to be an angel when he heads off to Colorado State this August. I'm not even sure I want him to be a total innocent. I do think that not having his brain chemistry changed at the age of 15 or 16 by weekend drinking will have left him with a lot better judgement than if he had been chemically altering his consciousness these last couple of years.

BTW, I'm pretty upfront with my kids about my early party days. Not in graphic detail, but just enough so that they know that whatever they might think about doing I already did; and I surely know what it looks and smells like, so don't even try it. Of course, I'm not all reefer madness or anything. My point of view is that no one ever said "Wow, I'm really drunk (or stoned), I think I'll study and get ahead in life."

What's the blogospheropinion on this?

The Monkey On My Back

All morning I paced by the door. Finally I had to take a nap. Last night's caffeine-fueled blogging session had left me wrung out and exhausted. An hour later I woke with a start; what if the delivery needed to signed for? What had I been thinking? I stumbled downstairs, approaching the door with a mixture of hope and trepidation. I opened it a crack, just enough to see the DHL box on the mat. I snatched it up greedily and scanned the return label. Dell!

I brought the box to the kitchen counter and cut the tape with trembling hands. Inside, nestled in a foam sheet, lay the new power cord. I unwrapped it with all the coordination and anticipation of a junkie tying the rubber cord around her arm with her teeth. It wasn't until I plugged the brick into the power cord, the power cord into the wall, and the whole thing into my laptop, and saw the green light glow when I pushed the power button that I was able to slow my ragged, shallow breathing.

My dealer came through for me. And just in time. Problem? I don't got no stinkin' problem!

The price of a 6 foot power cord for a Dell Inspiron E1405 with next day delivery? $88.43

Having a 6 foot power cord for a Dell Inspiron E1405? PRICELESS!

Magic Moments

The always eloquent Jennifer H. at Thursday Drive wrote about the magical evening she had with her kids on Saturday night. I read her post after a magical day with my kids; as it often does in the blogosphere, it felt like kismet.

My husband works (obviously--we need to eat and pay the mortgage), I attend college full-time, and the kids all have busy school and sports schedules. We are together more nights of the week than not, but there is homework and laundry, and well, you know how it is . . . life.

Saturday was a day where we had no agenda but enjoying being a family. The kids were on their best behavior since the outing was part of my birthday celebration, and I truly appreciated that. My husband didn't bat an eye at the $88.00 museum exhibit admission price (A Day in Pompeii--totally cool) and I truly appreciated that. We wandered through Balboa Park on a sunny, but not too warm day. We strolled, we looked at flowers, we took pictures. We watched a musician and listened to a sax player. We walked rapidly past a mime, 'cause we think mimes are kind of creepy. We saw lots of beautiful flowers, and watched a wedding in a gorgeous setting, the organ pavilion. We had an early dinner at a favorite restaurant.

When we got home the kids all went to do their own things; things that required no driving on our parts (always a bonus). I got to read my book and Mr. Fix-it got to watch March Madness. Pure bliss.

I hope all of you get to have a magical day soon. As Jennifer points out, sometimes they happen when you least expect them.

P.S. In addition to magic there were great presents. The kids chipped in on a series of 6 facials for me. Now not that I don't treasure all their handmade creations from the elementary school years, but . . . ! This definitely falls under "The Upside of Teenagers" category--they have jobs that pay actual money, which equals cool and (more importantly) thoughtful presents!

Shopping Spree

I hate shopping, but I love my daughter. That's why Saturday found Social Butterfly and I at the mall. It was about 80 degrees and it was an outdoor mall so I can't say it was total torture. Well outside wasn't torture. Inside . . . that's a different story. Why in the &%$@ do the insist on playing the music so *%$#@ loud inside Forever 21 and Journeys? I, for one, might spend more money if my throbbing head didn't drive me out after one round in the dressing rooms.

Me, an old fuddy-duddy? Why do you ask that?

Anywhoo. ... Since I hate shopping I go infrequently. So it just makes sense, while I'm buying SB some new jeans and shoes, to pick up a couple or three four things myself. Behold . . . and nothing was over $14.99. And since SB and I are sharing the red flats that makes them even cheaper!

Sometimes shopping is a little okay.

Springiness

Although I cannot write about what a relief spring is after a long, hard winter (I do live in San Diego after all), I still enjoy the shift in seasons; the longer days (I actually LIKE daylight savings time), the windows open to air out the house, and the abundance of flowers.

For those of you still mired in snow, I hope this gives you hope. If it just makes you crazy with lust for the sun, I have a spare room you're welcome to stay in!

 

Apparently, Fuchsias and Daisies thrive on total and abject neglect!

I Was JK!

People, it was a joke! Of course, my book group drinks and stays up past 9--I just thought our "names" made us sound like the type of boring people that DON'T drink and go to bed early. Thank you for your concern for my well-being, and I'm glad that so many of you were surprised. I love me a party, and being on the wrong side of midnight!

Now that that's out of the way . . . Today I got to meet katydidnot and Blogthismom in REAL life. You know how when you meet someone you've only talked to on the phone, or someone your friends say you just have to meet, you have those nervous thoughts, "What if it doesn't go well," "What if we don't have anything to say," "What if I don't really like them?" It TOTALLY went well, we had tons to say, and I really liked them. Which is great because we have lots of Bossy's visit planning to do. (I hope Bossy didn't read the no drinking joke, not get it, and take me off the road trip).

Because Cheri (Blogthismom) told me she enjoyed my observations from work, and I don't sound totally bitter about "the public," I'll share a little from today, which was btw, hellacious (flu season should be over people, read the memo!), I will share.

 

Yes, Mr. Smoker, medication that helps you quit smoking is expensive. Then again, cigarettes are expensive too!