So I took a brief hiatus from my blog... Since I am my only follower at this time I was not too worried that I would be missed. However, I did have a few friends who follow on Facebook ask me when I would have another installment of their favorite NON TV drama. In the three months I haven't posted, my whole life has completely changed. For the first time in 20 years, I am employed full time AND have become an empty nester. I hate one and love the other... the weird thing is, if you had asked me 4 months ago I would have told you that I hated the idea of going back to work and loved the thought of having peace and quiet in a house all to myself (and Wayne). This is actually not the case. Of course I have my days when I just want to crawl under the covers and not come out again but mostly I am just doing things one day at a time and adjusting to all the changes... not without a little help... meds are awesome! LOL!!
The job is great. I took a job as a legal secretary for a small, but well established, law firm in town, the hours are perfect for me, the location is 3 blocks from my now quiet and seemingly large house and I LOVE the type of work I do on a daily basis. There is a small amount of drama that comes with working in an office that I had forgotten about over the last 20 years but I am older, wiser and am learning to just let it go. Some days it is easier said than done!
The empty nest issue has been harder than I had anticipated. I thought, at one time, how wonderful life would be in a world where I could spend my time in peace and quiet with a CLEAN house and not have to put on pants if I didn't want to. I have been surprised at how much I hate the quietness in the house, I miss the sounds of the video game noises from the family room and the cuss words my son would shout in frustration at the game. I miss having the boys around to cook for and talk with. I miss hearing the front door opening and closing at random hours with the kids and their friends coming and going. I miss spending time with my son's girlfriend when she lived with us... we used to sit down and watch The Real Housewives of (any city actually) and marvel at the drama these women created for themselves! What I do NOT miss is having to be 'dressed' all the time, now I can come home and hang out in my underwear and a t-shirt all evening if I want to. Many evenings though I don't go home after work just to avoid the quiet. I visit friends or go grocery shopping and often stop in to see my mother-in-law until it is time to get Wayne up for work and cook his dinner.
I have come to the realization that the kids were not the problem with having a messy house... it is my husband. He REFUSES to pick up after himself. We are seriously near battle stage at this point. I don't ask him to do much around the house, but take out trash on trash night each week and take care of his dishes daily. I cook and wash dishes, shop, do laundry, vacuum, dust and take care of the animals plus work full time AND I pack him a lunch every night before he goes to work. HOW FLIPPING HARD IS IT TO PUT A DISH IN THE DISHWASHER? Apparently it is near impossible. Here is the situation: We do not have an eat-in kitchen and since there are only two of us I don't see any point in setting the formal dining room table for two so we eat in the living room in front of the television. A couple of weeks ago I noticed that his dinner dishes were piling up on the table next to his chair over a period of about 3 days... 3 cups, 3 plates, a couple of cereal bowls and various silverware. I took care of MY dishes... so I waited... I thought if he want's to play games then LET'S PLAY! FINALLY, after 5 days and more accumulating dirty dishes with each passing day, before I left for work one morning, I gathered the dishes up and set them NEATLY in his chair, so he would not be able to sit without moving them. He picked up the pile of neatly stacked dishes and moved them to the kitchen sink. REALLY?! The dishwasher is actually closer than the sink is. SO I told him in no uncertain terms that if he wanted me to continue doing things for him, ie. packing his lunch and cooking him meals every night he had to help me a little in return. Fortunately I did not have to go on strike... sometimes the dishes pile up for a day or two but he does manage to find time to drop them in the dishwasher for me. Now if I could only get him to load it properly... but that is a battle I have chosen NOT to fight.
So in a nutshell I seldom have time to post about the trials and tribulations of raising 3 teenagers, now almost all adults, and the crazy crap we have been through but with enough encouragement and maybe a follower or two I will be a bit more diligent in putting up some monthly if not weekly posts!
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Amityville Horror: The Downstairs Bathroom
I have chosen to start with the main characters that are currently in my life. I will save the drama and stories from my first marriage and our family “fun” for another blog/book... it will be more of a Peyton Place than this comedy of errors I presently call my life!
My second husband, Wayne, had custody of his 2 children when we met and I have helped him raise them since the oldest, a girl, Tori, was 13 and our oldest boy, Justin, was 10. My son Brandon was 8 when all 5 of us moved in together into our 100 year old Victorian, 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom home. We live in a small city in eastern Iowa, just three blocks from the Mississippi River. I mention the age and size of the house because at many points in the last 11 years of my life this house became the bane of my existence.
This house was a work in progress when I moved in, with the second floor being almost completely gutted and unused for many years. Adding to that, the first time I entered the house, one would have thought it would belong on the show Hoarders! I spent 8 hours the first day cleaning the front sitting room, which my husband had been using as a bedroom (and I use that term loosely as he slept on a couch) for the last 5 years. When I happened upon the downstairs bathroom, which is located under the stairs, I noticed immediately that there was no door. In fact I thought perhaps there was just a random shower in there since the only privacy to be had was a shower curtain hanging in the door frame. Wayne is quite a modest man so his first order of business was to get an actual DOOR put on that bathroom. I have to say it was quite a fiasco! He and a friend purchased a pre-hung door from the local home improvement store and started what should have been an hour job. Let me tell you NOTHING is square in a 100 year old house. NOTHING is STANDARD size in a 100 year old house. So the one hour job became a half a day project. Of course the door did not fit exactly right in the opening, I mean how could I expect that ANYTHING would go smoothly. So the door molding was removed (some did not survive the removal process as it was so old and dry, not to mention they used humongous nails instead of finishing nails to put it up once upon a time) and then the attempts to square up the door frame and align the doorknob holes up so that once a door knob was put on it would latch were met with much frustration. At long last we no longer had just a crappy, blue shower curtain with a ruffle to give us privacy in the only working bathroom, we had a DOOR! There were tears of joy in my eyes... or sawdust... but either way we were somewhat happy. There was still the issue of no molding. IF one wanted to, one could look in between the opening and the frame of the door to spy on whomever was sitting upon the porcelain throne. Since we had 2 young boys who LOVED to get into trouble together and a teenage girl, whom to this day is extremely private, we felt that they would be better off at Grandma Jean's for the duration of the impromptu remodel. He did put up the piece of molding on the side of the door that exposed the toilet several weeks later. I will add that we purchased an unfinished door; Wayne wanted to stain and seal it to maintain the natural wood look instead of paint. The day this door was installed was the day after Thanksgiving 1999... it is still unstained and the molding still not completely done.
I thank God everyday for my mother-in-law, Grandma Jean, as most everyone calls her. She had been helping Wayne with the two kids for many years. He was a single dad, working graveyard shift, so the children lived with her mostly. She was gracious enough to take in my little guy too until the house was habitable for everyone. Jean is only about 5'2", smokes like a chimney, cusses like a sailor, protects her grandchildren like a mother bear with a cub and takes NO prisoners. She has this way of putting you in your place with just a look and can put the fear of God into most anyone. However, she will take in any stray (I lived in her basement for a couple of weeks after I split from my first husband and I wasn't the first nor was I the last) and she will give you her last nickel (but not her last cigarette as Justin learned very recently LOL) and the shirt off her back (provided her robe is handy! She is quite modest as well.) Everyone respects her like none other I have ever seen. She is the Matriarch of our family without a doubt. I would sleep with one eye open if I ever even THOUGHT about crossing her. As much as we drive each other crazy sometimes she has become one of my best friends and substitute mother, as mine lives so far away.
Well tomorrow is another day and another story... we move on to the kitchen to clean next...
My second husband, Wayne, had custody of his 2 children when we met and I have helped him raise them since the oldest, a girl, Tori, was 13 and our oldest boy, Justin, was 10. My son Brandon was 8 when all 5 of us moved in together into our 100 year old Victorian, 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom home. We live in a small city in eastern Iowa, just three blocks from the Mississippi River. I mention the age and size of the house because at many points in the last 11 years of my life this house became the bane of my existence.This house was a work in progress when I moved in, with the second floor being almost completely gutted and unused for many years. Adding to that, the first time I entered the house, one would have thought it would belong on the show Hoarders! I spent 8 hours the first day cleaning the front sitting room, which my husband had been using as a bedroom (and I use that term loosely as he slept on a couch) for the last 5 years. When I happened upon the downstairs bathroom, which is located under the stairs, I noticed immediately that there was no door. In fact I thought perhaps there was just a random shower in there since the only privacy to be had was a shower curtain hanging in the door frame. Wayne is quite a modest man so his first order of business was to get an actual DOOR put on that bathroom. I have to say it was quite a fiasco! He and a friend purchased a pre-hung door from the local home improvement store and started what should have been an hour job. Let me tell you NOTHING is square in a 100 year old house. NOTHING is STANDARD size in a 100 year old house. So the one hour job became a half a day project. Of course the door did not fit exactly right in the opening, I mean how could I expect that ANYTHING would go smoothly. So the door molding was removed (some did not survive the removal process as it was so old and dry, not to mention they used humongous nails instead of finishing nails to put it up once upon a time) and then the attempts to square up the door frame and align the doorknob holes up so that once a door knob was put on it would latch were met with much frustration. At long last we no longer had just a crappy, blue shower curtain with a ruffle to give us privacy in the only working bathroom, we had a DOOR! There were tears of joy in my eyes... or sawdust... but either way we were somewhat happy. There was still the issue of no molding. IF one wanted to, one could look in between the opening and the frame of the door to spy on whomever was sitting upon the porcelain throne. Since we had 2 young boys who LOVED to get into trouble together and a teenage girl, whom to this day is extremely private, we felt that they would be better off at Grandma Jean's for the duration of the impromptu remodel. He did put up the piece of molding on the side of the door that exposed the toilet several weeks later. I will add that we purchased an unfinished door; Wayne wanted to stain and seal it to maintain the natural wood look instead of paint. The day this door was installed was the day after Thanksgiving 1999... it is still unstained and the molding still not completely done.
I thank God everyday for my mother-in-law, Grandma Jean, as most everyone calls her. She had been helping Wayne with the two kids for many years. He was a single dad, working graveyard shift, so the children lived with her mostly. She was gracious enough to take in my little guy too until the house was habitable for everyone. Jean is only about 5'2", smokes like a chimney, cusses like a sailor, protects her grandchildren like a mother bear with a cub and takes NO prisoners. She has this way of putting you in your place with just a look and can put the fear of God into most anyone. However, she will take in any stray (I lived in her basement for a couple of weeks after I split from my first husband and I wasn't the first nor was I the last) and she will give you her last nickel (but not her last cigarette as Justin learned very recently LOL) and the shirt off her back (provided her robe is handy! She is quite modest as well.) Everyone respects her like none other I have ever seen. She is the Matriarch of our family without a doubt. I would sleep with one eye open if I ever even THOUGHT about crossing her. As much as we drive each other crazy sometimes she has become one of my best friends and substitute mother, as mine lives so far away.
Well tomorrow is another day and another story... we move on to the kitchen to clean next...
Introduction: Christine and her family!
I have chosen to write this blog with the strong encouragement and support of my friends. I will write about my experiences in life and with my children. PLEASE understand this is supposed to be humorous and entertaining. If you don't think it is entertaining or funny; don't read it. I am doing this mainly for me and my sanity. I feel that this will be very therapeutic for me and have hopes it will keep me as sane as I possibly can be!
First of all I am the mother of 5; 4 step kids and one biological son. My oldest boys, from my first marriage are now 30 and 31 and the eldest is a parent himself. Most of my stress/drama/trauma come from the 3 youngest and their friends, girlfriends and boyfriends but you know, life does get in the way sometimes and can be bring unexpected pitfalls and joy that contribute as well.
Second all my life I have only ever wanted to aspire to be a housewife and mother. I was never really interested in a career, I went to college for a couple of years but the only degree I earned was my MRS. (twice!). My only true goal was to be June Cleaver... and yet 20 years, one son, 4 step-kids, two husbands and a move from Buffalo, NY to Muscatine, IA and I wake up to find I am most definitely NOT June ... I am ROSEANNE!!
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