Rainy morning

Just a quick post before I start work. We had a dreadful time getting the kids off to school today, so I'm a little shell-shocked and need to decompress. I knew it wasn't always going to be as easy as it was the first week, but it seems unfair that things are already starting to disintegrate.

At six am, Rocket Boy and I were jerked out of sleep by the sound of the sprinklers coming on. This was fine except that we've had over an inch of rain in the past 12 hours and it's really stupid to spend the money to run the sprinklers when the ground is already saturated.

So Rocket Boy got out of bed, pulled on a pair of shorts, and went outside to turn off the sprinklers. I snuggled under the covers to sleep for another half hour, until my alarm went off at 6:30 and I got up for the day. (RB slept in for just a few more minutes, which seemed quite justified since he'd been the one to go out at 6 am and turn off the sprinklers.)

Our cat, Pie Bear, as I have mentioned before, has diabetes and weighs 20 lbs. So in addition to giving him insulin shots twice a day, we have also put him on a diet -- something that he is NOT happy about. Not one little bit. (Nor has he lost any weight.)

He demands food constantly throughout the day, though fortunately not at night. But when my alarm goes off, he feels that it is time to be fed. I dressed quickly and dashed into the bathroom, but while I was in there Pie Bear began meowing. Meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow. "Shhh!" I hissed through the door. I can only pee so fast. But Pie Bear feels that it is necessary to keep up a steady stream of meows the whole time I am in there. And the bathroom is right across the hall from the twins' room. So by the time I came out, and fixed his breakfast, the twins were awake, 15 minutes early, 15 minutes which I had planned to spend eating my breakfast.

Stupid cat.

The twins had not wanted to get up that early, so they were grouchy, and they started off the day with Baby A hitting Baby B and Baby B hitting him right back. Baby A can dish it out, but he can't take it, so he ran in the living room and began crying and yelling about what a terribly mean person his brother is.

"You shouldn't have hit your brother," I told Baby B, as I tried to get him dressed. I was out late last night at my book group meeting, and Rocket Boy put the twins to bed. That meant that no one chose clothes for today before bedtime, so we had to do it at 6:45 am when everyone was mad.

I always have to pay for my little treats.

Baby B got dressed without too much trouble, though he insisted on wearing shorts even though it was predicted to rain much of the day. Rocket Boy fixed him a piece of toast while I struggled to get Baby A calmed down and ready. Then it was time for Baby A's breakfast, which is always a challenge. I wouldn't describe him as a picky eater, exactly, but he would happily live on sweets (including good sweets, like fruit and milk, but also less good sweets, like candy and cookies and ice cream...). Also, often he just doesn't want to eat at all, especially in the morning. This was less of a problem before school started, but now I feel that it is my duty as a Trying-to-be-Good Mother to get some sort of nourishment into him before he leaves the house. I'm willing to be flexible: a banana and a glass of milk works for me. But sometimes he just won't eat at all, and this was one of those days. He finally agreed to let me fix him a piece of toast with honey and a glass of milk, but then he wouldn't take a bite or a sip.

"I want a granilla bar," he said sulkily ("granilla" being his pronunciation of "granola").

I had chocolate-chip granola bars in the cupboard, but those are intended for snacks, not breakfast. In fact, there was already one in his backpack, waiting to be taken to school for a snack today. So I did the dangerous thing: I drew a line. "You can't have a granola bar," I said. "Those are for snacks. Eat your toast."

I'll spare you the drama that followed, but it was bad. And it ended with Baby A getting a granilla bar after all, so why couldn't I have said yes to begin with? Is it really so bad to eat chocolate chips for breakfast? I don't know. Big sigh.

Then it was time to walk to school, but by then it had started to rain again. Our route to school involves walking across a grassy field which they never seem to mow, and we just knew it would be awful to walk across it this morning, with the ground soaked and muddy. So we went the street way, which we've never done before. It turned out to be much longer. Fortunately we arrived just as the line of kids was preparing to walk into the kindergarten room. Whew, one hurdle achieved.

Then Rocket Boy and I walked back home and he got ready to go to Canon City for the day. We own a house there which we have decided to sell, so he needed to go down to set things up with the painter. Not a good day to go, supposed to pour all day.

But he'd arranged to go, so he went, after much hemming and hawing and backing and forthing. And now I am alone in the house as it continues to pour outside. I like rainy days, except for ONE little thing: we need a new roof. The bathroom leak was going strong last night and I can hear it again now.

The water drips into the bathtub, so that's not a big deal. What is a big deal is that a leak in the bathroom ceiling means a serious problem with the roof. We NEED A NEW ROOF. But instead we are paying $9000 to have a roof put on the Canon City house, because our Realtor tells us it won't sell without a new roof. There is no guarantee it will sell WITH a new roof, but maybe it will.

All summer long I kept nagging Rocket Boy to go up on the roof and see if he could do something -- a little tar, maybe? All summer long he kept putting it off, too many other house-related things to do, such as repairing broken windows courtesy of our first "housesitter," and endless pruning.

Well, I think I have played around on the computer long enough and it is time to get to work, so as to be able to pay for things like granola bars and new roofs. I'm sure the sound of the leak in the bathroom won't bother me at all.