Ode to Bill

Right, so.  I'm still here.

And I realize that two weeks without a posting is completely unacceptable.  Would you believe me if I told you that this moment was my first in the last two weeks where I wasn't:

being dragged to the ground by a child on both legs (yes, Till is climbing!)

stuffing my face with a fantastic dinner that my husband lovingly made for me (true story)

so deep in a sleep-deprivation-induced-zombie state that I can't even look up from Sprout on t.v. (side note: if you don't know about Sprout. . .click here.  It might just save your life.)

finally catching up on my DVR'd episodes of Young and the Restless (I have priorities, plus Victor is so totally going to jail!)

staring at my closet. . .trying to figure out how I can make two button downs, a skirt and a black pair of pants last all week.

sleeping.  Usually sitting upright in a chair, clutching a beer.

This workin' world is tough.  I had no idea.  Before last week, I knew what it was like to work.  Heck, I'd done it for years and years.  But not with a child.  With children.  With an hour long commute one way and spit-up stains on most everything I own and all while living in my  parent's house and trying to navigate (and diffuse!) the situations that tend to arise in this type of situation. 

All for another time, I suppose.

What I can tell you is that while I do so miss the kids, I know they're having a blast with Bill.  And man. . .I. Am. Lucky.

He never complains.  He cooks.  He cleans.  He does my laundry.  And by laundry. . .that also includes ironing my mis-matched work outfits and still is brave enough to veto my choices when they get too crazy. . .

. . .staying home with children for years will do a number with your fashion sense. . .

He's truly amazing.  He thinks about things like balanced meals and outdoor time and sensory play.  SENSORY PLAY TIME. . .PEOPLE!!!  Are you listening to me?!?

I used to think about how many episodes of Curious George equaled the time daddy gets home from work. I used to think that I was pretty darned special if I managed in a 24 hour period to:

• wash myself and both children
• changed all of our clothes
• made breakfast, lunch and dinner (extra points if they didn't include hot dogs in some form)
• did least one load of laundry, including folding and putting it away

He's such a better stay-at-home-mom than me. 

I'd love to tell you guys about the job (I will.  Promise).  And how life is going here at the folks (I will. Promise).  And updates with the kids (I will. Promise).  For now though, I'm really just going to enjoy the last 20 minutes I have before Cole returns from the store with my folks and that Till is napping. . .finish my beer and try to watch today's episode of Y&R.

We've got some fun times planned for Halloween weekend, and I'll be sure to take pictures.  I miss you and I'll be back.  I just need to get this worky work thing down. . .

But, before I go. . .here's a quick

My Ode To Bill

Oh Bill, you can always find the other lost sock,
You watch my mom's insanity all day long but never mock.

Oh Bill, at night, you always get up with kids,
And in the morning my travel mug has its lids.

Oh Bill, on my day off you give me money and say "go to the mall. . ."
"I'll stay here, having a ball and try not to smash my head in the wall."

Oh Bill, when my dad's bird died you threw it in the trash,
And that was wicked awesome. 'Cause that bird sucked.

an afternoon daydream

So I was sitting around in my pajamas this afternoon, eating bon bons (no chocolate jokes!) and perusing the internet like I tend to do. . .when I came across this post by a favorite blogger.  It was about the whimsical things one wishes they could do or be or pierce or whatever.  And I started thinking. . .

. . .if I had no responsibilities, no time constraints, no nagging voice in the back of my mind, no financial burden, no one who was waiting for me to make supper, no stigma of what was acceptable behavior for a woman of my age. . .I would. . .

. . .pierce my nose.  No question about it.  And it would be cute and painless and never leave a scar.

. . .get Botox.  And tell people about it.

. . .buy a sailboat and learn how to sail it.  And then I'd live on it for two months a year with only my husband, drinking nothing but chardonnay.  No cell phones, no internet, just chardonnay on the ocean, in a sailboat.

. . .finally learn to speak Italian.  And how to knit.  And how to play the banjo.

. . .go platinum blond.  And my eyebrows clearly wouldn't match.

. . .start and finish the 29-day giving challenge.  Come to think of it? I really don't have any good excuse as to why I haven't done this yet.

. . .go on a real safari.  But first I would just stay at Animal Kingdom at Disney. . .you know, to get the hang of it.

. . .run for city council and not be scared if I lost.

. . .hole myself up in a cottage in the woods to write my great manuscript.

. . .travel to amazing places like Greece or Egypt or Argentina or Turkey and stay for as long as it took to see (and eat) everything I wanted.

. . .try to live on nothing but the land.  Completely unplugged.  Just hubby, kids and me.  And we would never get sucked into bad nighttime dramas instead of talking about our day.  Or eat standing in the kitchen because we didn't have time for a proper meal because proper meals would be all we'd do.

. . .oh, and I would go to the Price Is Right.  Everyday.  Until I was a contestant.  However long it took.

So this list is heavy on travel and seclusion.  Hmmmm. 

I'm interested to know what you would do.  Without any constraints and zero guilt. . .what would your whimsical wantings be?