I'm irritated. No good exercise programs are on FitTV when I feel like working out. There's the "Caribbean Workout," which comes on at Sam's naptime, but then I'd have to fret with getting a bath while he's waking up. Actually, just about any exercising while the kids are awake and Eric's at work has that same problem. I could work out after Eric gets home, but then there's dinner and I'm just so tired. My only real option is early in the morning, before he leaves, but not only does that sound masochistic (get up earlier than anybody else, after being up with Gabe's nursings?!), but nothing good looks to be on then. Freaking central time zone.
Oh. Wait. I'm an idiot. I was adding an hour instead of subtracting. If I want to get up at six in the morning, I can have Gilad. Am I sick enough to do this? Somehow I doubt it.
Okay, how's this for a plan instead? I work out in the evening after dinner. Eric takes the boys upstairs (I hate audiences), and I...find a video, because apparently FitTV thinks that nobody wants to work out in the evenings. Drat! I don't want to spend money! And I can't really go out to walk because it's cold, and I'm a big whiny baby.
How do people do this? Gyms are expensive, and I can't really leave Gabe yet for that, anyway. Maybe I'll buy a farging jumprope and just put in some quality time with it every night. That's cheap, and it worked for Rocky.
What I suppose I really want is some way to exercise while I sleep. Is that so much to ask?
And while I'm griping, let's throw in a gripe about my tooth. Now, what did I predict would happen? I hate being right. Not only is there pain in that tooth again, but I think the infection is running rampant; I now feel tenderness all the way up to my freaking eyeball. It's bizarre, and it hurts when I forget and try to wipe my nose. A couple of days ago, I opened my mouth wide to try to pop my ears, and...
"The infection's in my jawbone! I can't open my mouth all the way!"
So I tried to call the dentist this morning to see if they'll just prescribe me some more antibiotics and let me keep my appointment on the thirteenth, but they apparently don't open until noon. I'd like to know how a medical professional can stay in business this way. (Oh, yeah; by getting appointment times confused so that people end up coming in over and over and over for what should have been a quick couple of trips.) I'm trying back in a bit, but in the meantime, I'm wrapped up with other phone calls, as well. Fisher-Price doesn't seem to want my business any more than the dentist does; their customer service line keeps telling me that they have an "unusually high call volume" and then hanging up on me. How do you even build up a high volume of calls when you assume that people won't want to stay on the line and would prefer to be dumped back to a dial tone? I'd rather be one of the glorified elect number of people who get to listen to "Lady in Red" and other light favorites while trying to keep their children mollified using one hand and a hushed tone.
I don't think I'm in the right frame of mind to deal with the public today.
Also on my call list are structural engineers; Eric wants all his ducks in a row when he talks to the lawyer, so he wants somebody to examine the cracks in our stairs and walls to make sure they're not structural. Is this something people do? I've never heard of it. Anyway, he's got me looking up engineers in the yellow pages, and I could only find two who were answering their phones, and they practically want me to give them Gabe in exchange for a trip to our house. With those rates, I'm not surprised that I've never heard of anybody I know doing this. "Three-hour minimum," indeed; that's probably to deal with people like me, who'd otherwise refuse to even say "hello" to avoid being billed for that wasted time.
I just want to get this stuff done! I can't put up toy shelves downstairs until we drywall, and we can't drywall until the plumbing is done (big freaking pipe that's been concreted into the floor in the middle of the room, and of course it needs to be replaced), and we can't do the plumbing until we talk to the lawyer, and now Eric wants to do this first, and while he may be right, I'm just ready to start throwing things.
Yesterday, though, Sam pooped in the potty. It was the bright spot of my day.
one year ago:
There were even a few things that had antique masking tape with prices on them, written in my mother's hand: obvious yard-sale failures that had been returned to storage.
two years ago:
It's Christmas, and if they want to put him on a permanent sugar high for the occasion, well, it only comes around once a year.
three years ago:
Sometimes I wonder whether the scent of evergreen acts upon the little ones the way catnip does on those of the feline persuasion.
four years ago:
Finally she reached the very top of my uterus, an inch or so to the left of my navel, and we heard it: Thump, thump, thump.
five years ago:
Here's the question, though: do you keep sending cards to relatives by marriage with whom your blood relative has separated?
In the ears:|
On the Bookshelf:
A Wizard of Earthsea