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Friday, June 1, 2012

Blargity Blargity Blah

So I was going to totally make cauliflower crust pizza last night, blog about it, and just rejoice in my stellar awesomeness. But this week was a little messy from me taking Tuesday off from work in an effort to keep pretending I was on summer vacation thanks to Memorial Day. Instead of doing a lick of housework on Tuesday, I sat around watching What Not to Wear all day. I mean, seriously, all day long. Anyways, I worked Wednesday to make up for it which means yesterday looked like this:

Wake up with Alex.

Watch Sesame Street with Alex, while we ate our own yogurts, thinking Oh God I have so much to do today.

Get off my ass and start the laundry, while Alex whines about Elmo being over. I finally convince her to
COME HELP MOMMY CARRY LAUNDRY and she then goes OMG OK YAY

Laundry is now in my life for the entire day, always in the background, always waiting, always judging. The last load, the kitchen mat, the doormat and the bathroom mat, gets removed from the dryer in the last segment of Wheel of Fortune (6:50pm).

Do the dishes while listening to Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong, music that Alex is SO STOKED about omg she danced the whole time. Fill the dishwasher, put in the Lemi Shine, ask Alex to close the door and push the button (this is a recurring theme today by the way), then do by hand the sinkful of dishes that did not fit, which always harshes my mellow. Clean the counters, stovetop, microwave cart.

Run around dusting the house, with Alex following me screaming ME HELP YOU? I DO IT, ME HELP YOU? I let her do the lower tables, which is me helping her man the swiffer while she is trying to wrench it from my grasp so she can go dust the cat.

Polish the table, TV buffet stand thing, and the 100 year old coffee table from Todd's side of the family, a drawer of which I will later break while finding a hair tie for Alex.

Vacuum the goddamn dog hair with the shop vac. Alex must turn on and turn off the shop vac, so if I forget, she freaks out. Oh toddlers, WHY YOU SO CUTE. Although it is super sweet that she wants to be a part of things, so in the long run, it's totally worth it. Although pushing the button is the only fun thing about dragging a shop vac around the house.

Vacuum the four area rugs. Marvel at the dog hair, the dust, the filth that accumulates in a mere seven days. Alex, however, rallies and follows me, ready to push buttons. Which, really, isn't that true of all toddlers?

Stand back, panting slightly, realizing Alex woke at 9am and won't go down til 2pm. We still have two and a half hours. What should we do?!!?

Fill the kiddie pool! Play with bubbles! Water all the plants, hook up the sprinkler for the patch of sad Tucson grass. Spray the dog. Eat popsicles with Alex and pick up dog shit.

Eat lunch! Alex eats a stick of cheese and then runs around. The cat bites her head while I'm shoveling salad in my mouth. Go smack the cat away, hold Alex while she eats all my tomatoes. Convince her to finish her turkey and crackers.

Now what?! We still have over an hour to fill. Since I'm combining my chore day and Alex's fun day, I decide to tie a noose around my energy levels, and take Alex to the park. She still has her sunscreen on from pool hour (ok, 30 minutes), so let's go! Let's sweat and feel cranky!

Go hit up the swings and one slide, which honestly, really surprised me. Once she went to the park when all the slides were baking in the sun and too hot so now every slide is a dude in a van with a mustache and a handful of candy. But this time, she did it!

Now we head to the store since we are out of eggs. I get a basil blant and some wine too because fuck it I am so tired and it's not even 2pm. Not that I open it up until 8pm but still. Alex gets stickers and whispers "thank you" and then, in the car, freaks out when they are sticking to her hands, like they do every time, impeding her immediate demolition of her first fruit pouch of the day.

Finally, we are home, in our nice, half-clean, but super cool and dark home. Alex goes down for a nap. I am exhausted but still need to sweep and mop and fold laundry and cry myself to sleep.

Sweep. Mop. Eat half a carton of cherry tomatoes while dicking around on the internet. Todd comes home and I realize oh God now it's time for me to swim laps at the gym. Alex wakes up. I hug and kiss everyone, and drag my ass into the hot car.

Swimming! Yay! I finally get back into my old tri-trainig mojo and beat out 2,040 yards in 40 minutes. Plus the gym finally, finally, stopped heating the goddamn pool so it was actually refreshing.

Come home. Make Alex dinner which I take tiny bites of. Fold laundry while watching Wheel of Fortune. Finish the laundry. Remember I never cleaned the bathroom sink and counter so do that while managing not to sob.

Walk the dog. But before I do it I have to jimmy rig a second leash for Alex since she FREAKS OUT whenever I take over control of the leash because hey, I do not want Patton to rip her ARM off when he sees another dog. Anyways, it's cute and it works and Alex has all sorts of pride and stature now.

Come home, run her tub. Join her for a bath and then shower to wash my hair. Get myself together. Todd is done with kung fu now so I stagger into the kitchen to "start dinner" while he takes care of suiting her up for bedtime. "Start dinner" really means hold my face in my hands thinking about making a cauliflower crust pizza from scratch and how it's already 8pm and hey, remember that red wine? Yeah, so do I!

I tell Todd I'm ordering pizza. He enthusiastically agrees to this plan. We put Alex to sleep and then sit on the sofa and I thank the good Lord for Pizza Hut because hell no I am not going back in that kitchen unless it's for another slice of thin crust or another glass of wine or BOTH.

So, you know, sorry I couldn't blog about that epic homemade health nut pizza. I will be thinking twice before I exchange my chore day for a holiday day in which I do nothing because while I love Stacy London and Clinton Kelly, they are not worth it, plus I already dress like a boss so whatevs.

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