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Home › Diaries › Diane's › December 10, 1999

Diane's Diary Entries

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December 10, 1999

The end of the week is here and the skies are gray and riddled with clouds; how fitting. It seems to me that whenever one is looking forward to something i.e., the weekend, the clouds come out in force to take away the sunshiny glee we all feel when we happily anticipate something. I look forward to the weekend so much because the promise of relaxation and rest always gets renewed. Not that I actually get it, mind you, but the anticipation that I might still makes me sing. Inevitably, Saturday morning rouses you from bed with a quick jolt of reality. It reminds me of the sensation you get when you jump into a pool for the first time each season and your whole body convulses while it adjusts to the temperature. Reality, who needs it? I'd rather stay cuddled up in my cozy bed with my feather pillow, cup of java, and the remote. I don't even need the volume on the set turned on. Ah! Oh, I'm sorry, I think I was remembering someone else's life because that does not even closely resemble mine ... EVER. No, life for me is a quick and sometimes quicker pace of chasing kids, doing that never-ending pile of laundry, making something that I think is a nutritious dinner, (french fries have vitamins right?), and making sure the house is clean enough to keep the EPA away with their bright yellow stickers that scream CONDEMNED in big black letters. I'm pretty sure that I have succeeded in my goals this week because I think I saw a smile on one of my children's faces the other day. Of course, it could have been gas. This week I led myself to battle against the offspring armed with my box of Kleenex and fruit flavored Motrin. Yes, they are sick. It's that time of year that makes you wonder how could one small child produce so much neon green fluid from his tiny nose. The second you see one child begin to sniffle the prayers begin. I'd dance through the house with a lampshade on my head if it would keep that infectious little germ from speeding to each living creature in the family, yet nothing helps. Even that cat felt compelled to join in the madness and get sick all over the house. Once I saw that, I grinned and pulled out my pregnancy trump card. "Joe, I just can't clean it up, you'll have to do it because I'm pregnant." I sat in the dining room and enjoyed my java all the while basking in the knowledge that I tricked him. "That's for leaving your clothes on the floor," I thought to myself.

Austin is the only one who has remained healthy this week. His bright blue eyes sparkle with good health. His one major malfunction lately seems to be that his bed no longer provides the adequate amount of comfort for him so he has to, no NEEDS, to sleep in our bed. Actually it works out well for me because he'll go with no fuss or muss. The only problem with this arrangement is that he now just about out weighs me so the job of transferring his sleeping body is left to Joe. To the top bunk with you, Sir Austin. That's the biggest feat of dexterity that I love seeing performed. Moving a sleeping child to the top bunk while navigating your way through a minefield of toys in the dark. It's a true test of skills. Next time I just might video tape it and play it at the next family gathering. I'll introduce that segment by saying, "And here's Joe moving Austin (for the bazillionth time) to his own bed." "Yes, ladies and gentlemen this is the iron man portion of the evening where you will see amazing displays of strength and courage." "Watch how this 250 pound man riddled with sweat never breaks stride even after stepping on several sharp plastic objects!" "Oh! There goes the head of the Lego man, how tragic." This followed by a series of beeps to block the expletives from sensitive ears. Oh the joy in being married!

I must be off now for the day still beckons. I must locate which pair of outgrown sneakers contains the offending odor of wet feet. The joys of motherhood and Lysol.

All My Best to You---------

Diane

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