Look, I want to make something clear. When I post something here regarding my relationship with my husband, it is not a passive-aggressive ploy. Dan and I talk about a lot of things, including what is good and what is bad about our relationship. We discuss how we can do things better, from date nights to learning how to pick up after ourselves.
My post from yesterday — now deleted — was born out of a deep frustration over an issue (Dan working on Sundays) that he and I have been over and over and over and over. And over. Get me? I don’t want him working on Sundays any more. Sundays are for family and yard work and football and beer. Not for stinkin’ paperwork.
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I actually have some good news!
No, I didn’t win another fabulous contest.
But the fruit flies — knock on wood — are dead. As are a lot of other bugs that were in our house. The vegetarian in me is slightly appalled, but the home-owner in me is revelling in the slaughter.
We finally bombed — Dan finally bombed — the house at some point on Sunday. (I was at PodCamp Pittsburgh.) Bug bombed that is. Then we opened all the windows (with screens in them) and aired it out. Between the bombs and the temperature (we haven’t had the furnace on since Friday), I feel fairly confident in saying we have ended our infestation.
God help my sanity if we have not.
We have been at my in-laws since Friday as well, which is stressful for everyone involved (except for my children, who take great delight in sleeping over at Bella’s). But we have all survived, our relationships intact. I have, however, been brushing my teeth with my children’s toothpaste, which is like brushing with berry-flavored bubblegum, and I’m ready to go back to the minty freshness of Colgate Total. You would think that living right next door to each other, I could have easily solved this problem (and that of the morning orange juice) but there comes a point of diminishing returns. After I ran over to my house for clothes and pajamas and my contact lens stuff and then to make sure the furniture was covered and then for boxers for Dan and socks and then a pair of shoes for Kate — one more trip for toothpaste or orange juice just wasn’t worth the trouble.
I have a lot of cleaning and laundry to do. A LOT. Which should be stressing me out — my original plan was to bomb the bugs on Friday so I could clean on Saturday — but I’m feeling pretty Zen about it. We’ll probably have a couple more meals at Bella’s house this week, but by Wednesday or so, we’ll be home again. Er, well, that’s the plan.
The next big project is the office, and I am calling someone today (so help me) to get that underway. Dan and I have to get our house to a baseline of cleanliness and organization so that we can a) have more time together, b) actually find being home relaxing and fun instead of a ball of stress, and c) host birthday parties and the like — I will have a 5-year-old in less than a month! I was hoping to host pumpking-carving festivities (the party that has come to be known as BYOP for Bring Your Own Pumpkin), but we’re already overbooked. Boo.
Things could be getting better. Knock wood again. We’re not out of the mess yet. But, truly, I can see light.
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Also, in praise of my husband: He cleaned the crap out of our backyard yesterday. And it needed it. He mowed and swept and took all the trash up to the curb, and burned stuff in the chiminea, and just made our yard look very presentable instead of like the kind of backyard where you expect to see an old car with no tires up on jacks. Yeah, it was that bad. And now it’s the kind of backyard where you can picture sitting in front of the chiminea, burning all your junk mail, while the kids are asleep and you’re finally having a beer.
You know where to find me later.
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Speaking of later: Countdown to Burgh Moms (Burgh Bloggers?) dinner at Las Velas: Four days.
Red Pen Mama 