Thursday, October 2, 2014

A (Pointless) Glimpse at my Days

Nothing much doin on this side of the pond.

Halifax is out :( But on the flip side, the detailer just said screw it, whatever, and extended us till July 2016.  So basically, all my joke-saying "Sorry Navy, I live here now" sort of came true.  This will be the longest we've lived anywhere since we first got married and lived in VA.  Kind of a weird feeling for my wanderlusting heart.

But. If you have to stay in one place for an extended period of time, it can't hurt to have that place be London, amiright? Say that while imagining me nudging my elbow right into that place under your ribs, because that's what I would do if I said that in real life. And I'd probably add a cheeky wink.  Because I'm cool like that.

I've quickly settled into a fabulous routine since school started back up.  Can you call it a routine when it's only been two weeks? I guess you can when you're the author of the blog...

I get up and work out (gross, but it has to be done, and I've scaled way back and am now using this routine. The 'busy fat lady' routine is what my friend called it. Talk about cheeky) and take a shower while my rad husband feeds the kids and makes my eggs. Yes. You read that correctly. My computer just tried to change that to corruptly. Wha...?

He leaves about an hour before me and the kids have to leave. AN HOUR. Now that Scott is at the same school as Warren, my life has opened up to new and amazing dimensions. Clean the kitchen, do the laundry, read the seven hundred and fifty blogs I subscribe to. Holler at the kids to GET DRESSED ALREADY. Drink three ENTIRE travel mugs of coffee.

It is amazing. It is life changing. That hour is like THE BEST HOUR. Well, the best hour with kids.

Do the school run. Why doesn't England have car pool drop off lanes? I have created my own car pool drop off lane for Ava because that school is a hot fucking mess.  I turn on my hazards and pull into the bus lane and shove her out the door and she has to walk the rest of the way.  It's safer than it sounds, and the timing is right for there not to be a bus anywhere in sight. And it takes all of five seconds. Then I sit for twenty minutes in bumper to bumper traffic to go the hundred yards (meters, lol) to the end of the street.

I am not exagerating. I know it's easy to assume I am, because hello my name is Jennifer. But this is the honest to God, clocked it out truth- twenty minutes, hundred yards.  It's RIDIC.

But fine because I happen to have twenty minutes to kill between dropping her off and getting everyone else out.

Then I get home at nine. I don't have to leave the house until eleven twenty to go get the baby.  That's one hundred and forty glorious minutes to myself.

So, my new routine? That I've perfected over these less-than-two-weeks? One morning I'll watch a movie. Because movies are awesome and I deserve it, especially if I've already cleaned up the breakfast mess.  Last week I watched Devil's Knot (meh) and this week I watched Oldboy, which I LOVED, but apparently everyone else HATED. I thought it was fab. Hyperviolent, but I think you know that going in?

Bonus? I learned how to lower mega-board, so I can do any pressing while I watch a movie. I've been sewing ALLTHETHINGS lately, so there's always something that needs to be pressed.

Opposite of bonus? Mega-board has proven to heavy and warped her tiny aluminium legs (this is the ironing board that Nick got in boot 1999) so I can't put her away when I'm done. So this giant board just stays out all the time. We're working on getting a new one, but Nick is in charge because he wants one that 'strong' and won't 'collapse like a piece of shit' so it could be a while.

One morning I'll hang out with Megan and Samantha doing nothing and secretly laughing because Samantha is a chump and still has a baby. Nothing gives me a sense of closure that tying my tubes was the right decision like hanging out with someone who still has to change diapers. Samantha, if you're reading this, I love you, and I love Jorja even more, but come on, only suckers have another baby. Pretend I said that while elbowing your ribs and winking cheekily, even though I've never done either of those things in my entire life.

And one morning we'll go do something cool. That's code for spend money that I don't have. This week we're supposed to go to a mall.  A real mall. I love London (duh) but after five years away (whoa) I miss just walking around a tacky American mall. I really do.

Then I pick up the baby, feed her the same amount of food that professional football players eat in an entire day (American footballers, I don't know if soccer players eat a lot. Aren't they pretty skinny?) and stick her in bed. This is the part of the day where I don't know happens. She's in bed by one, and I get her up and stick her in the car at quarter to three.  I eat lunch and text The Hookers (don't ask, at least it's better than My Bitches) but other than that...what am I doing? No idea. Need to lock this time suck down though because surely I could be doing something.

Get the boys, feed them double the amount that Daisy ate for lunch (what is happening? why do they all eat SO MUCH?) and usually cry off and on for the fifteen minutes I'm solo with three until Nick gets home.  Yes. I've gone from five months solo with four, not an email or text from my husband in sight, rocking out and kicking ass and taking names as a single mother, to crying off and on for fifteen minutes when I'm left alone with more than one.

They're just so AWFUL after school. They yell at me and eat all the food and they're all so loud and move so's just very stressful.  VERY. STRESSFUL. Who knows why. Probably because I am a crazy person.

Then Nick gets home to save the day and it's another one of the time voids in my day, but not as bad as the lunch void. I usually read and play on the computer and sew and get dinner going.  Then dinner, homework, baths or no baths, doesn't matter to me really bc Nick does that, then the kids go to bed and Nick and I have the most glorious hour of nothingness and television before we go to bed. At nine fifteen.

It's embarrassing. But I get up at five and he gets up at four thirty. So we're tired.

Whatever. We're awesome.

Anyway. If you've made it this far, two thousand points. I have no idea what I set out to accomplish when I started this post, but there you go.

1 comment:

  1. These are seriously THE highlight of my day. "These" being your blog posts. You're hilarious. It's possible that your funniness is increasing the longer I am all shut up in the rehab world and mostly away from normal humans, but either way, I laugh until my chest hurts. I swear my mom and I want to take a kickass trip when I'm all better, and my first choice is to come see you. Seriously. I'm coming one day. I'll probably talk in my horrible version of a British accent and quote Love Actually every five minutes... soooo hope you can deal with that.