I’ve been such a lazy blogger this week. In my defense, I’ve been alternating between helping Mr. Clean pack for his trip and trying not to cling to him like a baby monkey. Normally, I do not exhibit baby monkey clinginess. It’s really not my style. I embody the rub-purr-cuddle-now-quit-touching-me lioness approach more often than not. So the clinginess? A little embarrassing for me. But hey, it’s Mr. Clean and he’s stuck with me so he sucked it up, tried to hide his snickers and smiles about it, and then distracted me with something shiny.

I’ve been nervous (err.. stressed to the point of nerve pinching knotted muscles in my neck and shoulders) about this whole trip – mainly the arriving part. See, the second airport he’ll be landing at (it takes two Long flights to get to his destination) is currently in the midst of a strike/protest. We’ve been assured that it’s not as bad as it sounds but as far as I’m concerned? When you have to wait until four hours before your flight to find out if it’s safe to go… umm, probably not the best of conditions. Add in my overly dramatic worst case scenarios and the condition levels just reached Critical Mass. So what do you think I did all day yesterday? No, really… Guess.

If you guess that I stayed up until 3am rabidly alternating between looking his flights and his destination up on the Internet and watching Fox News for any news alerts of significance… well, OK, you’d be half way right. I did manage to get in a couple of movies from Netflix. And also? I baked a cake at 2 am. French Vanilla with Strawberry icing.

I did not sleep well, though. I think, perhaps, I should have recorded Mr. Clean’s snoring to play in the background while he’s gone. It was just too stinking quiet to get any semblance of decent sleep. Even having the sheets all nice and warm from the dryer didn’t help. I kept imagining I heard someone sneaking about just outside my window. Every time the horses whuffled I shot straight up and peered out the blinds. And certainly, the dogs were not barking at deer This Time. No, this time it was definitely a murderer coming to kill me in my bed.

I have a friend who will think this is downright hilarious and possible blackmail material. Her ex used to work overseas for months at a time and she was famous for calling me at 1am to tell me she was hearing things outside. Once, I actually had to DRIVE OVER and see if someone was lurking about outside her house because there was definitely Noise. Someone was going to break in. She Knew It. It ended up being good that I came over as the noise turned out to be a sick horse in the barn behind her house, but still. Undoubtedly, she’ll enjoy the heck out of my admissions here and then call me to tease me about them for the remainder of Mr. Clean’s absence.

Today, I woke up and had a revelation that proves my mental illness quotient is high, high, high. I decided I needed to clean. Everything. Definitely not normal behavior. I’m one of those slightly domestically challenged women. [EDIT: Ok, I admit it. I’m Seriously challenged in this area.] Mr. Clean does the dishes, and the laundry, and umm… anything that involves chemical cleaners. I cook! I vacuum! I… I give Mr. Clean lots of hugs for everything else. [grin]

My inner clean freak is showing today. I plan on stripping everything down until it sparkles and shines. The spawnlings are not appreciative of this New Mom Attitude. They are giving me odd looks accompanied by under-the-breath grumblings about it being Saturday and they never have to clean their rooms on Saturdays when DAD is here. Just now, I overheard them whispering in Shaggy’s room. It’s very possible a coup will be attempted before the day is out --- unless you can think of a use for duct tape and rope that involves cleaning? Yeah. That’s what I thought.

But! I am ready for battle! I will don my Field Marshall Mom stripes, pull on my combat boots, and arm myself with cleaning supplies. Then, I will apply my quick wit and cunning skills…

And bribe them with dinner out. And maybe even a trip to Best Buy to spend the remainder of our gift cards from Christmas. Because when you’re nervous and stressed and acting abnormally… nothing fixes it like Shopping!
| edit post
0 Responses