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sethrakMark and Jack have been testing me. Testing me sorely. Testing me to the point where I'm about ready to mangle lines from Wrath of Khan. x_x
Jack climbed on the counter and tore a good sized hole in the wicker wrapping of my spice rack shelf, the one I got in Missouri at a rummage sale. :( Might be able to salvage it with some scrap wood and reuse it as a craft supply shelf; but it can't be kept where he can get it anymore. Mark's just been... Zodlingish. So's Jack from time to time; he's NOT coping well with the need to keep him inside during the heat of the day. That boy needs a mini-trampoline for his birthday.
So after I sent both boys to bed, I went out in the backyard with a set of shears to dig out one of the sprinkler heads from the lone tuft of grass that's grown more than a fraction of an inch this year... and decided it would be nice to lay down in the cool damp (short) grass nearby after I was done. Mark was engaged in some hollering and bed jumping that could be heard outside, but this was muffled by the airport and the neighbor kids skateboarding nearby. And for the second day in a row, there was neither smoke nor windblown ash.
It was really nice.
Then Tom came tearing outside at a dead run, terrified because he hadn't known I went outside and he saw me sprawled on the grass with my eyes shut. He thought I'd passed out or worse. Scared him half to death. :(
I reassured him I was safe and well, and he went to bed soon after.
Mark didn't get to sleep until about twenty minutes ago. He was in rare form. But at least he didn't try climbing on the stairwell wall.
I'm staying up just long enough to get the second load of laundry into the dryer, and then I am going the FUCK to sleep. Tom's ABUs won't suffer for lack of folding, and neither will the other stuff currently in the washer. My arms and shoulders ache from mopping, and I am drained.
Jack climbed on the counter and tore a good sized hole in the wicker wrapping of my spice rack shelf, the one I got in Missouri at a rummage sale. :( Might be able to salvage it with some scrap wood and reuse it as a craft supply shelf; but it can't be kept where he can get it anymore. Mark's just been... Zodlingish. So's Jack from time to time; he's NOT coping well with the need to keep him inside during the heat of the day. That boy needs a mini-trampoline for his birthday.
So after I sent both boys to bed, I went out in the backyard with a set of shears to dig out one of the sprinkler heads from the lone tuft of grass that's grown more than a fraction of an inch this year... and decided it would be nice to lay down in the cool damp (short) grass nearby after I was done. Mark was engaged in some hollering and bed jumping that could be heard outside, but this was muffled by the airport and the neighbor kids skateboarding nearby. And for the second day in a row, there was neither smoke nor windblown ash.
It was really nice.
Then Tom came tearing outside at a dead run, terrified because he hadn't known I went outside and he saw me sprawled on the grass with my eyes shut. He thought I'd passed out or worse. Scared him half to death. :(
I reassured him I was safe and well, and he went to bed soon after.
Mark didn't get to sleep until about twenty minutes ago. He was in rare form. But at least he didn't try climbing on the stairwell wall.
I'm staying up just long enough to get the second load of laundry into the dryer, and then I am going the FUCK to sleep. Tom's ABUs won't suffer for lack of folding, and neither will the other stuff currently in the washer. My arms and shoulders ache from mopping, and I am drained.
