(No, we don't have the flu. That was two weeks ago and it was just as unpleasant as you think it would be. Times five.)
There aren't a lot of photos this week and that's because I've been back at work. That's not one of the catastrophes-- I actually like my job and don't mind working. I spend my days with some of my best friends in the world and a group of kids who can tie their own shoes and take themselves to the bathroom. But my return to work also means less time for sewing and crafting and all of those other photo worthy endeavors that lead to good blog photography.
The bad luck streak began with the fucking Volvo. You remember that piece of shit car that I'm always complaining about? The one that we've poured buckets of money into? The one that's been spewing black smoke? Well, we finally decided to rid ourselves of this burden and sell the damn thing. So Brent listed it on Craigslist and we started getting some pretty low ball offers. Now mind you, we were trying to sell it for a fraction of the Blue Book price because of the whole spewing black smoke thing. Brent was pretty sure we could hold out for a higher offer and so we kept at it and blah blah blah. Long, predictable story short, the car died on us and we ended up selling it for a fraction of that fraction of the price. So pennies, really. But honestly, at this point I am just glad to see it go. Fuck that fucking car.
Then some good luck came our way thanks to Uncle Sam. Having three kids and living off one income is all starting to pay off! Oh yes, it's tax return time! The one time of the year when we can feel rich for a few days before we blow it all and then go right back to squeaking by. Brent had started complaining about our mattress a few weeks ago and how his back was hurting in the mornings. And I was like, "Hello! My back has been hurting FOR YEARS thanks to this stupid mattress!" We've been sleeping for the last five years on this hand-me-down mattress from my brother that, in addition to being totally uncomfortable, makes this horrid creaking and groaning noise every time you move. Which means that getting up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night has the potential to wake up everyone in the house. And, uh... those other things that you might do in a bed... well, let's just say that this mattress totally sucked it.
So Brent, the shopper in the family, started frequenting the mattress stores and he quickly found THE DEAL. A closeout/floor model/ultra clearance mattress extraordinaire. And of course it was The Last One. EVER. And of course he was going out of town the next day and so in the spirit of getting THE DEAL, I had to drag three kids to the mattress store by myself to make the purchase. AND THEN I had to come home and entertain three kids while simultaneously hauling the Shitty Mattress from Hell out to the garage and then evicting a burrow of dustbunnies from under the bed frame before the delivery guys came. (This was a two beer kind of evening, if you know what I'm saying.)
But this mattress? OH MY GOD. I had no idea how much having this mattress would change my life. It's so fucking amazing. I just. I can't. Words don't even. Ahhhhh.
And so it would seem that things are looking up for the Rosses.
Ha ha ha. Also that day, in addition to dealing with the mattresses, I built a fire in our fireplace. We have ceiling heat in our house, so in other words, we have NO HEAT AT ALL unless the fireplace is going. Then we bake like potatoes. It might surprise you to learn that I am actually pretty good at building fires. This talent comes from years of being chronically cold and living with this useless ceiling heat. I can almost always get a big old rager going and heat up the entire house pretty quickly. But on this day something wasn't right. I got the fire going, but the flames looked funky and big clouds of black smoke came pouring out whenever I opened the door to add more wood. On the plus side, our smoke detector works just fine, apparently. I eventually got the fire going well enough to take the frigid edge off but managed to set off the smoke detector just often enough to wake Clementine during every single one of her naps that day.
In addition to purchasing the mattress, being in charge of three small children, and nearly burning the house down, I managed to find the time to bake some cookies. After all, this was our first night with the new bed and we needed some celebratory dessert! I occasionally make the Oatmeal Scotchies from the back of the butterscotch chips bag and I always have to wonder what the hell the people at Nestle are thinking when the recipe call for two sticks of butter. Are you kidding me? I use one and guess what? The cookies are absolutely delicious. Anyway, I like a chewy cookie and I'm all about pulling the cookies out of the oven before they get too brown, but I noticed right away that these cookies were coming out pretty raw. And then I realized that the oven wasn't hot. The oven wasn't hot because THE OVEN WAS BROKEN.
Fuck.
Okay, fine. These things happen. But does everything have to conspire to break at the same time AND to coincide with our tax return?
After what can only be described as a heavenly night's rest, Brent and I were congratulating ourselves on our steal of a deal on this mattress. And again, in spite of our broken oven, it would seem like blue skies were perhaps still heading our way. No more back pain! No more creaking and groaning!
Then Brent went to build us a cozy fire and discovered the black smoke phenomenon for himself. First the Volvo, now the fireplace! What's with all of these fire hazards in our lives?! Brent is a lot smarter than I am because instead of just piling more wood into the woodstove and hoping the black smoke plumes would miraculously go away, he decided to investigate. Turns out our chimney cover is clogged up with a bunch of chimney crud, so we should probably feel lucky that we didn't actually catch the house on fire. Instead I was just irritated about having to get the chimney cleaned, because my god, one step forward and two steps back. ALWAYS.
This is before a multiple bandaid collision. Those razor scooters are much faster than you think they are when you are contemplating buying one for your almost four-year-old.
In other news, Clementine has discovered her thumb.She gets more giggly every day. I have never seen such a happy baby.
Sawyer is always up for a game of Sorry. He cheats and he can't shuffle cards, but if you can get past that he's pretty fun to play with.
And Jack got a pretty awesome first report card AND he lost his first tooth.
And so it would seem that good things also come in threes.
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I just found your blog and so far, I am hooked!! You have three cute little children. I feel your pain with the tax check, usually it is spoken for before you ever get it, never can be used for a good ol time or maybe even a vacation. Thanks for allowing me to become a follower.
ReplyDeleteI read back a few posts and the hat/cap that you made for the twins do you sell them or just make them for family? They are so cute and I have a little grandson i would love to get one for. Thanks again for allowing me to become a follower.
ReplyDeleteHi Tammie. Thanks for your sweet comments. I do only make the caps as gifts (the tutorial says not to sell them), but if you can sew a seam it's actually a pretty easy hat to make.
ReplyDeleteI'm exhausted just from reading all that! I am really glad your house did not go on fire and especially since your new mattress would have been destroyed...that would have sucked. I definitely would have had more than 2 beers.....
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