The Scariest Spider Ever

The only spider image I can handle. Because it looks like my kid drew it.

If you know me personally, you may know of my severe arachnophobia. An encounter with a spider = shaking, nausea, inability to concentrate on anything else, and likely nightmares for days. Especially the ginormous ones in the somewhat southern state in which I live. Upon moving into our house, I had signed up for pest control and pledged hundreds of dollars per year via my credit card before the 3rd box was unpacked.

Today while playing with the kids, I happened to glance into a vent in the floor and saw my worst fear. A huge hairy wolf spider just sitting there waiting to terrorize me. Fortunately, my 6-year old son is not afraid of any bugs and usually takes care of them for me. However, I did not want this thing in my kitchen so I would not let him take out the vent. I thought (prayed) it might be dead but to verify, I had him throw baseballs at the vent to see if it moved. This was exciting for him on multiple levels — not only was he mommy’s hero but he was allowed to throw a baseball! In the house?!

It did not move. Okay, must be dead. Now how to dispose of the carcass…

Pest control was already scheduled to come today to deal with the bees outside. (This would have been a much better story if they came out SOLELY to deal with the spider… You’ll see why in a minute.) So after the technicican knocked down our nests and sprayed outside, I asked him to come inside, take out our vent, and dispose of the terrifying arachnid giving me an ulcer. So he put his paper shoe covers on and entered my living room. He lifted the vent while I stood 20 feet away in horror.

To my surprise, he said, “The spider must have gone back down the air duct.”

What?! It was ALIVE?! I tiptoed closer to peer over his shoulder and saw it! It was right there in front of him!

“That right there! You don’t see it?!”

He then proceeded to pick up the “spider”, show it to me, and say, “Ma’am, this is a piece of lint.”

 

image credit: pixabay.com

My glorious kid-less Wednesdays

My new favorite day!

13 weeks from now, Wednesdays will be amaz…

(Excuse me while I clean my keyboard now, as my 2-year old just poured freezer pop juice on it)

…ing. Exactly. That’s precisely my point. Why will Wednesdays in the fall be so skip-through-a-meadow fantastic? Because for the first time in 7 years, I will have ONE DAY (5 hours really) without kids. EVERY WEEK. I will have a 1st grader, a preschooler, and the sticky-handed 2-year old will be in CDO (Children’s Day Out). This program is also known as SMS (Save Mommy’s Sanity) or MTAN (Mommy Take a Nap).

Several people have asked me what, on earth, I will do with “all of my free time?”

Hm. What on earth will I do with 5 hours once a week without any children clinging to my ankles, slamming my keyboard, throwing my phone into the toilet, or peeing on the living room rug? What. Will. I. Do…

So I’ve created a calendar, outlining my plans for said Wednesdays.

Wednesday #1: Sit on the couch with my feet up and do nothing. I mean nothing. Not blog, not work out, not pay bills, not catch up with friends. Just listen to and soak in the quiet bliss of an empty house.

Wednesday #2: Binge watch Netflix.

Wednesday #3: Paint toenails. Watch more Netflix.

Wednesday #4: Start being productive. Play on Facebook, reading blogs, brainstorming ideas, jot down a few notes.

On the 5th Wednesday, I believe I will start actually making constructive use of these 5 hours. It may happen earlier, maybe Wednesday #4, but maybe not. I am allowing myself the first 4 Wednesdays (5-hour blocks, remember) to do a whole pile of nothing. And I won’t feel guilty. (Yes I will.) But I am doing it! (No I’m not.) Shit, we all know on Wednesday #2 the kids will be home with the flu and on Wednesday #5 there will be a 1st grade science fair. But on some Wednesdays (dare I say most Wednesdays) I will truly have 5 kid-free hours. And regardless of how I spend those hours, even if they involve a root canal, I will be alone.

Cheers to Wednesdays! 13 weeks! But who’s counting? Me. I am counting.

 

 image credit: pixabay.com

Taking the kids to the pool

Aaaah… How relaxing it is taking the kids to the pool. Ha!

Like families across our great land, we are spending many of our hot summer days relaxing at the pool. (<<Hilarious.)

Remember going to the pool before you had kids? It looked something like this:

1. Put on swim suit.

2. Go to pool.

3. Don’t bother with sunscreen because tan people look skinnier, and you’re too young to worry about leathery wrinkled skin or cancer. That will never happen to you!

4. Enjoy fruity wine and leisurely magazine reading with girlfriends throughout relaxing afternoon.

Hmm… Things have changed (slightly) now that you are a parent. First of all, it is a flipping Olympic event to prepare for a pool visit. In fact, there is a mathematical equation to break down just how long this process will take. Multiply the number of kids you have x 20 minutes. Add 20 extra minutes for each child under 2. Add 15 extra minutes for a child who is potty-training. That is how long it will take you to prepare for a 90-minute pool visit.

1 hour and 35 minutes later, kids are sunscreened and in suits, 2 of the 3 are in swim diapers, extra swim diapers are packed, older kids used bathroom before leaving, snacks are packed, drinks are packed, water wings are packed, hats and sunglasses are packed, towels are packed, and Mommy is in her suit and obligatory “mom-pool-dress” over her suit. She, of course, forgot to put sunscreen on herself (but WTF ever) and… “Let’s go, kids!”

The only part of you that “tans” is your back and top of your head, which are really just burned. (You forgot sunscreen, remember). This is due to you spending the ENTIRE 90 minutes bent over a kid, making sure she doesn’t die, is hydrated, isn’t drinking excessive chlorine, and isn’t pooping through the swim diaper (which in no way holds in any child’s poop in any pool, ever).

After an hour or two, you are forced to make a difficult decision.

1. Do you change here in the slippery and slimy bathroom?

2. Or do you say screw it and let ’em change naked by the side of the pool and throw all wet clothes on your already disgusting mini-van floor?

3. Or do you change at home, thus putting soaking wet, shivering kids in their car seats?

You opt for #3 because you foolishly think it is the easiest choice. You try to lay down towels under your sopping wet kids first, but they keep falling down and bunching up under their butts. Therefore, your kids whine excessively because sitting on a bunched up towel in a wet bathing suit for the 9-minute drive home is complete torture and they’ve never experienced something so horrifically uncomfortable, nor will they ever again.

As soon as everyone is dry and changed, they are plopped in front of a movie. Mommy pours herself a glass of wine and drinks it by herself in her kitchen.

See, not too much different from before you had kids, right?