Much About Mulch

This morning, Larry took the 4 oldest to assist at David's Boy Scout troop mulch sale. Anna, of course, was very excited about helping a bunch of creatures she considers to be the most disgusting beings in the known universe. And getting up at 6:30 in the morning? That was just the icing on the cake.

This happens to be the second mulch sale we've been conscripted to participate in this year. Apparently, mulch is a very popular item in inner suburbia; and I, for one, am glad, because the dads tend not to become involved when the kids are selling such namby-pamby items such as gift wrap or frozen cookie dough. Rent a few forklifts to move several tons of landscaping material, however, and you've got the menfolk swarming like bees around a honeypot.

I guess the gift wrap was just too emasculating.

So all you Girl Scout moms who are sick of running the cookie drive year after year after year? Get that monkey off your back by having your little green-skirted darlings sell something more manly - like, landscaping materials, say, or huge barbecue grills, or maybe even huge 4-wheel-drive trucks. The guys would be all over that. And we womenfolk wouldn't be stuffing our mouths with those blasted Thin Mints and Trefoils and blowing our diets all to heck.

Anyway, Larry left me alone with just the 2 little girls this morning, one of whom let me take a shower in blessed solitude while she looked out the window and said cute little things like, "Hi, birdies! Tweet, tweet!" (Really.) It's times like these that I enjoy having tiny little girls running around the house. Of course, they do grow up into great big girls that don't sound quite as cute (particularly when they are snarling in a most unbecoming manner at their little brothers); but I just try to take the good with the bad. We live in a fallen world, after all.

After my shower, and after picking out pretty outfits for everyone, and braiding some hair with some pretty hair ribbons, we took a leisurely walk to buy some bagels for breakfast; after that we sauntered over to the book store where my sweeties forced me (nicely) to read several Berenstain Bears books to them. I think there must be a special circle in hell where there is nothing to read but these particular books. And I really hope I do not end up there because, let's face it, I've suffered enough already.

I would have bought the Yarn Harlot's new book with my educator's discount card, but I couldn't think how to convince whatever nitpicker was at the cash register that a knitting humor book is essential to my children's academic studies this spring. [Larry just read this post and exclaimed, "Home Ec, of course!"] Nevertheless, my morning was quite pleasant, walking to the stores in the chilly spring morning and spending quality time with my 2 precious little girls. Rachel even rode her bike.

So now that we are home, you would think that all that mommy time and all those bagels and all those darn Berenstain Bears books would have translated into their leaving me alone for a bit, wouldn't you? But, as I type, Susie is lying on the floor underneath my chair, squeaking incessantly. Rachel keeps falling over and injuring herself, and I swear it's on purpose. I've tried bribing them with cookies, but it didn't work. And, really, I'm done being a nice mommy for now - I've been doing it all week.

Why am I working a job where I don't even get Saturdays off? Someone remind me...

Hemingway Redux

Larry went up to the attic yesterday to find his camping stuff and discovered 3 (count them! 3) full mousetraps. I thought it had been sort of quiet up there lately. As usual, he was quite proud of himself for his hunting prowess. He treated himself to an extra beer after disposing of the bodies. I'm just glad he didn't have them stuffed and hung above the fireplace.

Larry was looking for his camping gear because he and David headed off for a fun Boy Scout camping trip today, David's first. It was sort of touching how excited David was. I mean, if excited means screaming, "I'm not going! I don't want to go!" Larry practically had to carry him out to the car.

Parenting isn't for weaklings, you know.

And lest you think we are cruel for forcing our son to participate, the kid was eager to go until yesterday, when he found out that Uncle Matt was coming to stay for the weekend. David didn't want to miss a second of the visit, though most of today will consist of watching the little girls play with their uncle's cellphone (it has a camera! And fun tunes!). In fact, as of this writing, Uncle Matt is still abed (it's past noon), as he is not used to having his sleep patterns messed up by a screaming 10-year-old at 6 in the morning. No one else around here even noticed the disruption. Uncle Matt leads a very sheltered life.

I had planned to give myself a break from a solo parenting weekend by going to yoga class this morning - but instead I ended up leaving the minivan at the local auto shop for a new battery (after a kindly neighbor once more jump started it for me) and then walking back home. Oh, well - it still beat being stuck in the house on duty all day. Now I just have to figure out what to do with the kids for the rest of the day. I mean, once I stop wasting my time watching this funny video on the new trend of outsourcing childcare to India, brought to you from those strange folks at The Onion. Boy, some people can really take Idle Parenting to an extreme...

I Don't Need No Stinkin' Title

I have a 5-year-old daughter who for some reason takes pleasure in snipping a single fringe (can that word even be used in the singular?) off our authentic Turkish carpet every few days. Every time I sweep the dining room floor (about twice a week), I find one (just one) severed string from our pretty rug, which happens to be the only nice thing we have left in this dump we call home. Today I also noticed a deep scratch in the glass of our storm door (too high for Susie to reach). I am assuming Rachel has decided to adopt a stealthier approach than she has employed previously in order to achieve her goal of destroying everything we own. And there is nothing I can do about it. If I bring attention to it, experience tells me that she will escalate.

Isn't there some sort of homeowner's insurance I could buy that would cover us for vandalism of this nature? I'm sure that it would more than pay for itself.

Susie is not adjusting well to Standard Time. She stood at my elbow while I tried to edit photos and screamed for over half an hour, because she thought it was bedtime. My ears are still ringing, even though she went to sleep (finally) 2 hours ago. I'm not as resilient as I used to be.

Larry wants to escape on a Boy Scout backpacking trip with Theo. I told him it was fine with me, as long as he brought Anna along too. They could enjoy some of that positive daddy-daughter bonding that parenting-book authors seem so fond of. I mean, if she would deign to talk to him. She might be a bit upset, since sleeping outside and peeing in the woods isn't exactly her idea of a good time. Which is why I want her to go, of course. Plus, I wouldn't have her glaring at me all weekend. A win-win situation, right?