Big Mister has been diligently working on fixing our dryer. So far, he’s shelled out $10 for service manuals, $5 for parts, and $10 for tools. I love the budget for this project, but we are still without a working dryer. Maybe what he needs is a little help…
"I am going to turn this on..."
Explaining the concept of the multimeter...
Allow me to offer some advice...
Just another great consignment sale score: An unopened butterfly house kit for $1.50. Despite the Little Dude’s reaction to his last butterfly experience, he was superbly excited to do this project. Prudence dictated that we use washable paints for this project, so once he and Daddy have decided that they are “finished” painting the house, we’ll spray it with a waterproof sealer and hang it outside someplace the butterflies will hopefully find it.
This made a great addition to morning art time. And yes, it did eventually deteriorate into an experiment regarding what happens to the water when you add progressively more black paint by dipping and rinsing your brush over… and over… and over… but… it’s the process, not the product, right?
And yes, Morning Art Time is still a feature of our continuing run of (until now anyway) unusually peaceful mornings. I’ll be keeping that going as long as humanly possible…
You know, given my ability to kill things at multiple stages of plant development, I hope I’m not setting him up for disappointment, but Ian is taking a gardening class for little people. There is a good reason I usually either start things from seed OUTDOORS or buy established plants… this starting from seed thing is not my strong point. The class is run through the Fairfax County REC Center and is taught by Miss Claire, who he LOVES. (Really, I can’t say enough good things about her.)
Do you get the sense he's having a good time?
They planted tomatoes and herbs and made cute little signs to label their “pizza gardens.” Ian was over the moon. I’ll keep you posted on how we do at keeping it alive…
Morning around here usually goes like this:
Ian wakes up at “Oh dark thirty,” runs into our room, slams into the bed, jumps on us, screams at Daddy to WAKE UP IT’S UP TIME, then runs around like a demented maniac until it’s time to leave. The decibel level approaches an aircraft hanger, the house is trashed in approximately 20 minutes from when his feet hit the floor, and someone will yell at someone before all is said and done. And then there are usually tears. And while Ian pats my arm and says, “but Mommy, it will be all right,” I can’t help but think, “there has to be a better way…”
Two days in a row we’ve had idyllic mornings where he listened, cleaned up after himself without being reminded, played quietly, gave me lots of nice hugs and kisses, and just generally performed above expectations. I, personally, can’t help wondering if he’s ill in some way, but for a substantial cash donation I’m willing to have him lick your kid in case it’s catching.
Here’s a little sample for you:
Essential gear for reading Dr. Seuss
While getting dressed out of his shark jammies:
The shark says, “I’M HUNGRY!” and the fish say, “OH NO! You are NOT going to eat us.” and then the fish just SWIM AWAY because they do not like to be eaten.”
Lolling about after making the bed
In fact,Mommy is SO impressed by how wonderful the last two mornings have been, that she is doing everything in her power to make sure this feat is repeatable. Ian helped me design this chart of his morning routine:
Going on the back of Ian's door as a record of how this is SUPPOSED to work
Our own little miracle
mostly. I am well aware that half the world has no running water and 25% of the global population does not have access to clean water for drinking, bathing, and cooking… so it is with the proper awe due the miracle of hot and cold running water that I announce we have a new hot water heater. And it’s hooked up. And it’s working. Thanks to my brother being willing to help us out even when he was clearly tired from a weekend trip.
Or, as Ian summed it up, “Uncle Tyler is Very Good, knows things, AND… he loves me.”
It wasn’t all bad… I have absolutely no ambition to be quite as self-sufficient as Granny Miller, although we do have some things in common- an aversion to debt and the slavery it puts you in, for instance- but I like to think I did rise to the challenge of several days with no dryer and no hot running water pretty well for a cranky pregnant woman who can’t drown her sorrows in cake.
For instance, I now know that about 2 inches of cold water in the bathtub plus a water-bath canner full of boiling water makes a bath so hot you have to add some more cold water before you get in. Your mileage may vary.
Also, I figured out that if you have a top load washer, pouring same said canner full of boiling water into an already filled, waiting machine DOES allow you to do a warm water wash.
In the early hours of Saturday morning, when the power was out due to the water heater malfunction, I was able to figure out that a couple cold lights hanging from the shower curtain hooks make a dim but functional bathroom for morning tasks.
I haven’t yet found a good, permanent home for the five-line clothes drying system, but I’m working on it. Instead, the ad-hoc substitute for the dryer is two pop-up laundry racks parked under the ceiling fan. Except for an entire load of napkins and kitchen towels, which exceeded their capacity temporarily, they’re doing the job.
The biggest frustration for me right now is that I can’t just, say, muscle the dryer out from the wall, take it apart, fix it, and shove it back into place. Which, if it’s fixable, I’d normally be quite delighted to do. If someone watches my kid for me, that is. In fact, if someone would hold this fetus for me, I’d be happy to do it RIGHT NOW. Or whenever the part arrives. Whichever is sooner.
How did he open the can, completely dunk the screwdriver in it, pour out a pint of paint, and re-close the can without getting so covered in paint we couldn’t HELP but know what he’d done?
Mommy: Ian, what happened here?
Ian: Well, I was just trying to make something.
Mommy: I have to leave the room.
Apparently this is what I get for letting the thought cross my mind (not my lips… I never tempted fate by uttering it aloud) that he doesn’t seem to get up to quite the mayhem he used to and that maybe he’s growing up. WRONG. He’s just learned to hide the evidence.
(In case you’re wondering, the paint was completely dry, so this apparently happened days ago.)
(Growly voice): Do you wanna play with me?
(Squeaky voice): Oh yes, Dragon. You are friendly. But you do eat me once in a while.
Not exactly the laundry fairy I’ve always wished for, but I’ll take it:
And, on the upside: air drying IS good for the environment!
At the beginning of last week, the dryer quit drying. The tumbler works, but it’s not heating up. This is most likely due to the death of a $10 part buried so deeply in the bowels of the dryer we won’t have a dryer any more by the time we get to it. You have to order this part- you can’t pick it up at the hardware store. Fine. We can make do with no dryer for a week, and we’re both plenty handy enough to replace one simple part even if it means disassembling most of the dryer to do it- although I, for one, can’t get close enough to the dryer to do so unless the fetus wants to take a hand in the job. No worries. This is an annoyance. Also, unbeknownst to us, the opening salvo.
Yesterday morning we woke up to the extra dark, extra quiet house that means… POWER’S OUT! A few quick peeks out the windows revealed that only OUR power was out. There IS a dead tree branch over our power drop, maybe it went down. (Also, I know I’ve never mentioned it, but our electrical panel needs updating… the entire basement, including several major appliances, is on one circuit as far as we can tell. The upstairs fairly regularly blows circuits as well. We’re getting used to it.) We’ll investigate later. No problem, we’re prepared for this… we got a couple extra flashlights and a pack of emergency cold lights. Fire ’em up, get dressed, and we’ll head out for breakfast since I must eat exactly on schedule. Good thing eggs and toast is not exotic and can be ordered at your neighborhood diner.
Then, My Hero (also known, around here, as 007) went downstairs in the dark and before “up time” to discover that the problem was a couple of tripped circuits. So the lights came on while I was taking my shower. And promptly went back out again. So he turned them on again and was greeted with a fizzing pop and some smoke from… the water heater. So he shut off the circuit for the water heater. And called the repair firm whose information is featured on a label on said water heater. They eventually arrived at 5 pm to charge us $150 to inform us that we need a new one. Which they can install on Monday for approximately $1,000. But they’ll take off $50 since we had a service call today. (At least we were able to eat breakfast at home, after all.)
While we were reviewing this information, 007 went to pick up the mail… and found a letter from the IRS requesting that we pay nearly $4,000 for about $40,000 of income he didn’t earn in 2009. This is due to some erroneous documents filed by Bearing Point, which was his employer before they got bought by Deloitte in 2009. The IRS recommend we pay the amount in full to avoid penalties and interest during the investigation period. They would not, of course, pay us any interest for the use of our money during that time when they refunded it.
But wait! It gets better, because the most likely culprit for why the water heater is broken is… our shower leaking into the basement! It had been leaking before, but my father came and did some repairs that made it water tight… for a few months, apparently. We have already investigated the cost to replace the shower pan. Because it’s a non-standard size, we need a custom fabricated pan and enclosure, or a custom pan and tiled enclosure. The custom fabricated pan: $600. We HAD been thinking that the demolition of the old one, at least, would be no problem, because you should see me with a sledge- I got lots of opportunities in my last house to practice these skills. The fetus, on the other hand, has yet to learn to use one, and, as mentioned previously, is between me and the work. Well, we do have two bathrooms on the main floor, and we can go back to making do with one. Not so much without hot water, but still…
Oh, did I mention My Hero is sick? He woke up with a hacking cough and not much voice. The house is just kicking him when he’s already down.
So, to recap…
The hot water heater is out. The repair guy came down to $850 from his original estimate in addition to the $150 we already paid him. (Yeah, we’re shopping around a bit.) Well, you can do without a hot water heater for a couple days. Of course, ours takes with it the dishwasher, showers, and boiler heat. We can boil water to hand wash dishes and for bathing, but let’s hope the weather doesn’t turn too nippy, okay? Because I don’t know how long our little supply of firewood will hold out.
The dryer is out, but you CAN line dry laundry. Of course, that laundry will have been washed in cold water, since the water heater is out… no matter. We have clean clothes on hand and can manage for a few days. We’re looking at around $20 for part and shipping, unless it doesn’t work, in which case… new dryer. I picked up a pop-up clothes dryer and a five-line laundry hanging system to tide us over.
The shower in our bathroom leaks and can’t be used. $600 and a 4-6 week lead for the shower pan, a few hundred for the other materials, and some slave labor should sort that problem out in a jiffy. Or we just don’t use it for a while.
The IRS wants $4,000. Never mind, we aren’t writing them a check just now. The headache of dealing with the matter is another issue.
We still need to go car shopping, since my Guy Magnet will not hold Ian’s car seat and an infant seat at the same time unless you remove the front passenger seat. As a soon-to-be family of four, that presents a problem. I suppose we could solve that one by staying home a lot. Or we could opt for the lower investment of one of those multi-passenger bikes you see at the boardwalk and just pedal everywhere. Ian would love being strapped to the handlebars, and I’m sure a bike trailer would carry the shopping home.
Yesterday was the day I’d set aside for starting my shopping for Ian’s summer clothes, the last few things we need for the baby’s room, and enough basic clothing items that no one need endure the sight of my naked body for the remainder of my pregnancy and post-partum period unless they are my health care provider. Because I’ve reached that, “oops, there’s some belly hanging out there” stage and I Do Not Like It. I dropped $21.50 at the consignment sales and then went to Target, where I spent enough to make me dearly wish I could bury my head in a bucket of ice cream until the whole thing is over. I still have to hit a couple more consignment sales for Ian, because boys’ size 4T/5T is not that easy to come by. WHY, you ask? Because they’ve already destroyed everything, that’s why. (Got any hand-me-downs for me? Thanks.)
Oh yeah, the fact that I can’t, for instance, just have a bowl of cereal for lunch the day before shopping day? Kind of hard on the grocery budget. Because it turns out, as if you didn’t already know, that the more you go to the store the more you spend… and I have to go every time we run out of ANYTHING on my diet.
We still need to sort out the patio door situation in the basement playroom, but right now that’s so far down the list it almost didn’t rate a mention.
Have I mentioned I’m a stress eater? At this point, the sight of a cupcake makes me want to kick things. Overheard here last night:
Me: I really want to have ice cream [with dinner], but the responsible thing to do is to have two slices of toast.
007: You know, there are moms out there doing crack right now.
Me: Yes, but they don’t plan to love their babies, and I do.
I had the toast. And my post dinner blood sugar reading was NORMAL. And I haven’t kicked anything… YET.
In short, we are two people who are thrifty by nature hit with a number of major expenses, not just in the same month, but in the same WEEK. We’re starting to feel like we’ve lost our minds. And we’re glad the week is over.
I am grateful that the house decided to have the house equivalent of a grand mahl seizure followed by multiple organ failure 8 weeks BEFORE my due date and not, say… while I’m in the hospital right after I have this baby. Because now I have time to hold a yard sale on the front lawn to try and raise some cash. I’ll be the one with my belly hanging out over my pants, selling maternity clothes…
So, here we are today at 32 weeks. Fortunately for me, the Gestational Diabetes diet actually means I have more energy this time. My theory is that I was not eating enough during the day, and then making up for it at night. This is NOT a good plan if you have an active three year old! But the diet makes you space your food out in increments and eat every two hours, which is working for me.
If you’re staring down the barrel of this diagnosis, let me tell you: MEAT. I’ve done it once as a vegetarian and once not- and I have to say it was pure misery without meat. I managed about as well as anyone could, but the best option is to control this through diet- which means the more protein options you have, the better.
Either because I’m eating meat or because I don’t have it as severely this time, my numbers are lower. So it looks like I won’t need medication again, which is GREAT, because medication means extra doctor appointments which means… less time with the little dude I have.
If you happen to be running the betting pool on how high the number will climb, please note that I’m tipping the scales at 189.5 lbs as of yesterday morning- I am so thrilled they chose not to round up that half pound. So good for my self esteem to balance that 8 ounces against the first three numbers… (yep, I’m being facetious.) At any rate, the doctor still says I shouldn’t worry about my weight. So I won’t. Because getting through the grocery store in search of diabetic-friendly options when they are baking fresh chocolate chip cookies is enough to worry about at one time.