4:21 a.m. — Awakened by Flamingo Joe clomping down the stairs for a drink of water.
4:30 a.m. — Complain to Flamingo Joe for being so loud when he crawls back into bed; go back to sleep
7:14 a.m. — Wake up, look at clock, remember we have a full day to do school today; go back to sleep.
7:34 a.m. — Get out of bed, note that Flamingo Joe, who normally gets up before 6:00 to try to go to the gym, is still asleep; let dogs out; feed fish; note how quiet it is; get cup of coffee, read Moss Motoring Magazine while I wait for the rest of the family to wake up so that I can inspire my husband to fix Triumph Spitfire that’s gathering dust in the garage.
8:15 a.m. — Make protein shake for Casey, who has appeared and then disappeared again; take protein bar to Mace, who is watching Mighty Machines on Netflix in Grandma’s room and probably has been since 6:00 a.m. Grandma will never tell.
8:30 a.m. — Casey reappears from having been to my office to finish putting several large paper boxes containing my closed client files away — he worked on a filing project in my office last night to earn some cold hard cash and meant to finish up after dinner but didn’t; he remembered to go down this morning, however, to tidy up before my assistant came. Good boy.
8:40 a.m. — Head upstairs for shower, etc.
9:05 a.m. — Go into homeschool room to gather Casey’s independent work to assign and realized the light is out in the homeschool room. Stand on chair to remove light cover, remove burnt out lights and ponder where in our house we keep lightbulbs nowadays. Take a chance and walk 6 feet to closet in bathroom and am shocked to see two light bulbs way up high, but cannot quite reach them — only manage to push them further back into the closet when I stretch to reach them with my fingertips. Go back into homeschool room, retrieve step ladder, fetch the lightbulbs. Decide to start this blog post.
9:15 a.m. — Put new 100 watt old-fashioned lightbulbs in light fixture; hear environmentalists screaming in pain around the world; hear angels singing when I turn on the lights and they don’t have to warm up; regret that we did not buy out supplies of incandescent lightbulbs while they were still available; resume homeschool day prep.
9:20 a.m. — Casey appears at door of homeschool room, wondering why we haven’t started school yet. Send him to brush teeth to buy more time.
9:25 a.m. — Give Casey his assignments while he’s trying to read this post; brush Mace’s teeth. Start Genesis study with Mace.
9:26 a.m. — Stop Genesis study because Mace refuses to do it. Do math and go back to Genesis study.
10:06 a.m. — Stop so Mace can visit the bathroom. No one is happy with the results. As Grandma would say, “Mace has had a touch of dysentery for the past two days.”
10:10 a.m. — Thoroughly clean and sanitize toilet.
10:12 a.m. — Start spelling/reading with Mace.
10:22 a.m. — Start folding clothes so Mace can have his hissy fit over segmenting words in private.
10: 40 a.m. — Casey comes back to homeschool room, having completed his independent work; tell Mace he can finish his schoolwork after Casey is all done for the day; Mace hates to do school after Casey is done, so he starts crying; send him to his room.
10:55 a.m. — Checking Casey’s independent work; Mace interrupts with loaded Nerf gun, comes in firing; tell him if he is in the room to learn, he may stay, but if not, he needs to leave and will have to finish his work later.
10:57 a.m. — Start Prairie Primer work with Casey while Mace hovers outside the door pretending that he is not listening to me reading the chapter from Little House in the Big Woods. I gradually start reading softer and softer so he has to come all the way into the room. Eventually he sits down and starts doing his copywork while I’m reading. Start getting cocky about what a clever mom I am.
11:15 a.m. — Finish reading chapter and begin review questions. Mace answers at least half of them, thank heavens. Start studying respiratory system. Casey researches some on his own to report to us and we cover some material together. Mace figures out that fish do not breathe out of their mouths, but through their gills, and tells me that he has felt Campbell’s (our dog’s) gills before. We explain to Mace that those are Campbell’s ribs, not gills, and that dogs breathe like we do, through their mouth or nose.
11:45 a.m. — Break for lunch so Mace can stop asking when we’re breaking for lunch.
11:50 a.m. — Prepare and eat lunch.
12:35 p.m. — Discuss jealousy, gaiters, and how long it takes food to pass through your body but elect not to do the gastrointestinal experiment (ick).
12:45 p.m. — Send Casey off to research rabies and write a report. Attempt to have Mace read a book he has already read twice before. Decide I will kill myself before he ever learns to sound words out on his own.
1:00 p.m. — All cockiness from earlier in the morning dissipates completely as I exercise great self-control in not strangling my five-year old.
1:10 p.m. — Casey comes into the room and reports that based on his research, “squirmish” is not a word. I remind him that he’s supposed to be researching rabies.
1:16 p.m. — Finish the book with Mace and tell him to leave the room quickly as I am tempted to spank him.
1:20 p.m. — I escape to my office downstairs and instruct Casey to come read his report to me when he is finished.
2:00 p.m. — Casey comes downstairs where I am diligently working when not distracted by titillating Facebook conversation regarding Eddie Money’s new Geico commercial; Casey reads report on rabies to me, I suggest revisions.
2:10 p.m. — Casey shows me his revisions and I tell him we’ll work more on this on Thursday because I cannot stop what I’m working on to address everything that I see in his shoddy excuse for a report.
2:30 p.m. — Flamingo Joe comes into the office to show me what he has purchased at the Army Surplus store for Mace’s birthday in March. We agree he should hide it very well as Mace has an ability to sniff these things out. Resume work.
3:00 p.m. — Try to transfer Carbonite subscription to my new office computer and laptop. Office computer transfer goes swimmingly; laptop — not so much as I want to transfer subscription from Windows-based laptop (Boo! Hiss!) to my new MacBook Pro (Yay! Huzzah!); call Carbonite in minor huff to cancel the subscription on my laptop and am told I can transfer the subscription, but I can’t transfer the data. Oh well, then, that’s fine, I say, because my Mac was able to transfer all my data from my Windows laptop in 2 easy steps and about 8 hours, so I’m good there. Decide I need to watch my tone a little on calls like this. We conclude our call. Resume work.
3:12 p.m. — Flamingo Joe comes into the office again to say he’s been called about a consulting job at Estee Lauder on Long Island. I try not to giggle thinking about him being surrounded by they type of New Yorkers who must work at Estee Lauder. They are totally going to be all over him about dying his hair, which he has, to my delight, finally let go all the way gray. But I did encourage him to apply so that I could get free make-up. Resume work. Decide to try to get quarterly tax forms prepared and filed.
3:56 p.m. — Finish tax forms; rejoice because paying less than $200 for taxes this quarter, but realize that’s only because I wasn’t able to pay myself all quarter, just my assistant. Ponder whether this work is worth doing anymore. Create two boxes for Casey to use when he comes to “work” tomorrow: To Be Shredded and To Be Filed.
4:04 p.m. — Stop to look up laws on child labor if child is member of your own family.
4:13 p.m. — Conclude research. Apparently, hiring Casey would be a great way to reduce my own tax liability for these vast sums of money I am making through my work as a part-time bankruptcy attorney. If I had actually paid myself any money in the last quarter this might be a compelling argument for hiring him. Resume making boxes and sorting papers.
4:58 p.m. — Stop sorting papers into shredding and filing boxes when I can see most of the top of my work table. Go back upstairs to start dinner.
5:08 p.m. — Stand in front of thawed chicken breasts and consider what to do with them. Decide to have a snack while I think about it.
5:10 p.m. — Look up recipes to use Cinnamon Chile Rub from Victoria Taylor’s.
5:12 p.m. — Decide to make Caribbean Chicken, even though only three of the five of us will actually eat it and I’ll have to make plain chicken and sweet potato for Casey and Mace. Commence making substitutions for the things I don’t have (chicken broth for vegetable broth, onion powder for an actual onion that I wouldn’t use even if I had it, lime juice instead of lime zest, kosher salt instead of sea salt, etc.).
5:25 p.m. — Determine that onion powder, which says it was “best by” Marcy 9, 2010 is too rock-like in texture to include in a dish I’m serving to my own family and throw it out. Make half-hearted attempt to find minced onion or even onion salt. Decide to use Steak n’Shake seasoning instead.
6:00 p.m. — Sit down to dinner; get up and cook Casey his own sweet potato in the microwave so he doesn’t have to eat this:
6:05 p.m. — Ate the sweet potato/black bean/chili rub concoction above and decided it definitely was fantastic without the onions and the Steak n’ Shake seasoning didn’t do it any harm. Had delightful dinner conversation with family which, for the first time in a week, did not involve Mace attempting to tell “Why did the <insert animal here> cross the <insert location here>” jokes that make absolutely no sense. It was a huge relief.
6:30 p.m. — Insulted Grandma mightily by asking her to let me just do the dishes by myself since she only has one useful arm right now (the dominant arm currently in a cast and sling). She said okay, but kept helping anyway. Flamingo Joe took the carton of ice cream out of the fridge and offered to share the last of it with the boys:
6:57 p.m. — Casey and Flamingo Joe went to borrow a friend’s truck to pick up 65 2x4s that he bought for 96 cents apiece from Lowe’s. Flamingo Joe is attempting several projects at once before he gets called for a new job. Some of the 2x4s are for the current renovation taking place in the Man Cave — this includes an expansion of the Man Cave into an area that was formerly tool storage. The men think they need more room to jam, apparently, since this is the room where the Porkbellies practice. Their equipment is beginning to overtake the space. The other 2x4s are going to be used when we replace the roof.
7:19 p.m. — Decide that no one in their right mind would actually have read this entire post all the way through and decide to hit publish.