What A Way To Run A Railroad, Part 2

Had a long and crazy day today...dog with an upset tummy going to the vet, lots of errands, dealing with Christmas cards, getting ready for houseguests.  So I really didn't need the phone message I got right before leaving for the kids' taekwondo classes after school, which said that the flooring company from which the tiles for the new floors (of last week's construction project) came has no record of me paying for them when I picked them up.

Now, I picked the blessed things up at the beginning of August.  They were ordered in July.  Had I actually not paid for them, you'd think they would have noticed sometime before December!  And as it turned out, I paid for them by credit card the day I ordered them, as confirmed by our credit card statement, so these folks are screwed up two different ways.

And I probably now have another gray hair or two.  Was grateful to have taekwondo class myself tonight...a much better way of blowing off stress than wine, which would have been the alternative!

I Have Seen Hell

And it is being trapped in a car with my three children for two hours.

One of my current hats is chair of the town's Recreation committee...we put on fun stuff like the Easter Egg Hunt and Town Day.  This time of year, we have a holiday decoration contest, and everyone on the committee has a section of town to prejudge before the final judging later this week. Hence the time spent in the car tonight with my kids, all of whom lost interest in the undertaking very early on and spent the rest of the time poking at each other, making weird noises and generally causing mayhem and aggravation.

If I were one of those parents crazy enough to go to all the effort of moving an elf every night, there'd be a bad report going to the North Pole...

A Question Of Fairness--Opinions Wanted

All, I'd really like your take on something.

A while back, Thing One's team played another team in a soccer tournament and scored five goals on them in the first ten minutes of play.  Being up five goals triggered the "mercy rule" in that particular tournament, so our boys effectively played a giant game of keep-away for the entire remainder of the game--they were not permitted to go up any further, so they could not take any shots.  Not fun for either team.

Tonight, Thing One's team played in a tournament against three other teams, all of which are much better than his.  Not sour grapes speaking, just reality: his team plays in flight 5, two of the other teams in flight 1, and the third team is a professional development team (think feeder for the junior Olympics) that is well superior to flight 1.  Thing One's team never stood a chance.

This tournament had no mercy rules.  Thing One's team lost to the professional development team 20-2.  Their boys might have enjoyed that game, but ours certainly didn't.

So, is it better to beat the hell out of another team or embarrass and patronize them by benching your best players (another common variant on the mercy rule) or playing keep-away instead?  Mercy rules or no mercy rules?  Would love to hear some thoughts on this.

(And yes, setting up fair matches in the first place would be ideal, but often doesn't happen for practical reasons in big tournaments.)  

I have Seen The Future And It Punched Me In The Gut

Slept off the frustration of the last post...woke up in a decent mood and ready to tackle putting the second coat of paint on the powder room walls.  Which of course explains why I am blogging instead.

Thinking about my big boy this morning.  It is just the two of us and the dog here this weekend--Himself packed up the other two kids and drove off yesterday afternoon.  They won't be back till sometime Sunday.  Himself is running a marathon in a different state (as I type, actually) and because Thing One has various soccer-related things all day today, my sainted mother-in-law offered to watch Thing Two and The Girl for me for the weekend.  Himself dropped them off at her house on the way to his race and will pick them up tomorrow.

So, last night I took Thing One out to dinner, then we ran a couple of errands.  I was looking at him across the dinner table, and for one moment his face had an expression that was so adult...I swear I could see him as a young man for that second and it sent a chill down my spine from the unexpectedness.  He's handsome now, and is going to be a heartbreaker as a man...more importantly, he's just a good kid and I love him to pieces.  He's heading into those really tough adolescent years and it's going to break my heart watching him navigate the bumps, I just know it.  He still kisses me goodbye at the bus stop and hugs me good night (and regularly on other occasions for no apparent reason!) and I SO hope we can manage to keep that closeness as he grows up.

Anyway, the last stop for last evening was the dojo.  Although he is too young to take the adult evening classes, I had requested and received permission for him to come with me last night, and so he did.  I won't lie--it was tough for him.  The focus requirements are more stringent than he's used to, as is the level of sheer physical exercise.  But damned if he didn't rise manfully to the challenge.  He behaved himself and tried his best (and cracked the entire room up when he did a dive roll back to his lineup spot for the dismissal ritual at the end of class--youthful enthusiasm in action, even if slightly lacking in decorum!)  I wouldn't bring him to my classes every week, but he made me proud last night.

Here's to you, Thing One.  Even though watching you grow up sometimes cracks my heart, you're going to be a fine man someday.

F%$king Moron Dipshits

The so-called technical writers who work for the Kwikset Corporation should be summarily dismissed for gross incompetence.  I have never, and I mean NEVER (in years of putting together kids' toys!) seen a more unhelpful set of directions, and the accompanying pictures were infuriatingly useless.  (Yes, I'm pissed off.  Can you tell??)

(deep cleansing breath)
(deep cleansing breath)

The wave of guys who came through today finalizing the floor/powder room construction project were the last straw for the knob on the door from my garage to my laundry room.  It has been fading for a while, but something inside it broke today and I discovered when I went out this evening that the door latch would not catch, meaning that any gust of wind would cause the door to swing open.  Not the most secure state of affairs.  And of course, Himself is out of town (Mrs. Murphy's Law) so getting it fixed ASAP was all on me.

Thing One and I stopped and picked up a new lock set while we were out, and I set to installing it as soon as we got home.  An hour of trial and error and cussing later, it was finally in, but there is at least one part left over that looks like it should not be left over, and who knows what else I screwed up?  Bloody hell.  Long week, long day, so did not need that.  But it's done, and the door is acting functional again, at least for the moment.  Go me.    


 

Hands-On Life

Was looking at my hands last night and thinking that I really need a manicure and to actually remember to put on lotion every once in a while and for Pete's sake, how pathetic is it to have scraped the one knuckle so badly on the inside of a laundry basket of all things??  If I'd gotten it from punching a heavy bag or something it would be a lot cooler.  These hands are strong, but not beautiful--banged up and sinewy, a few spots, rarely nail-polished.    

But then, they have held babies and scrubbed floors and grown food from bare dirt and changed diapers and painted walls and grouted tile.  They have pressed the keys of saxophones and trumpets and held drumsticks and cooked huge festive meals and small family ones and folded thousands of loads of laundry and washed mountains of dishes and sewed elaborate pieces of cross-stitch.  They have typed legal documents and lab reports and a thesis, held test tubes and plates of cells and pipetters in a lab, and pulled me up rock walls and rough trails.  They can throw a baseball and make a jump shot and wipe away the tears of a crying child.  They cradled our beloved cat as she went to sleep for the final time last year, and soothe the dog when she's feisty or upset.  They proudly wear the ring of the man who loves me.  And they can deliver a hammerfist punch or knifehand strike that can break a wooden board when the situation calls for it.

So, all in all, I guess they've earned their bumps.  I could make them prettier (maybe red polish, Ms. Moon??), but I should probably just consider them a badge of honor.

They may not look like this:

But that's

The Home Stretch

Life in the construction zone should end today!  The plumber is banging away in the powder room, installing the fixtures so that it will no longer be an empty room with a new no-longer-ugly floor.  But while it was still empty last night, I painted it (remembering what a pain it was to paint behind the sink and toilet the last time), and the paint I chose too hastily because I ran out of time actually looks good with the floor tile.  A boon from the gods.

There is only so long I can be "on," and this week I have hit my limit with the people constantly in and out.  The floors are done, the plumber will hopefully follow suit soon, and my deer-hunting contractor will be in later this morning to replace the trim...that should hopefully be the end of it.  Then, if I wanted, I could dance naked in my living room and nobody would would be there to see it!