It's a jungle out there

mood: tired, but still feisty

and it's a jungle in here, too.

I got home from work, no Mr W in sight.  "Where's Daddy?" I ask Audrey when she nearly knocks me over, saying hello.  "In his room," she replies.

Down the hall I go, wondering why the dog's crate is in the front room.  Oh, great, I think, Shadow blew chunks or something unpleasant, and he's dealing with that.  I assume a defensive pose (ready to run/duck) as I poke my head into the room and ask him "Whatcha doin?"  He's sitting on the floor of our bedroom, with the steam cleaner in pieces around him.

"Look in the bathroom," he says.  I look, see nothing too unusual...Audrey's Spongebob flipflops, the steam cleaner solution..."What?"  "Look at the bottoms of her flipflops."  I flip them over, and lo and behold, they are magenta.  Oy.  He continues: "Look at the front of her little ballerina outfit, her hands, her legs..."  I see the residue of magenta all over the place.  "What happened?"  "She colored the bottoms of her flipflops and walked all over the house.  I wiped down the toilet seat lid, but I think it may be stained.  I'm working on this carpet next."

"Please tell me that you didn't blow a gasket when you saw all this."

"No, I didn't yell at her."  "Good, because it's not like her brothers haven't done this too.  Remember the time Nolan and Ben made a map line from the living room down the hallway with black crayon so they could 'find their way' to their room?  That came out, I'm sure this will too."  Audrey is hugging my leg, shaking a bit, because she knows we're talking about her, and she did something wrong.  I take her to change her clothes, so I can try and remove the marker from the ballerina outfit.  Mr W gets the steam cleaner rollers working so he reassembles it and starts cleaning the rug.

It doesn't take long for something like that to happen.  Luckily, most of the time, you can take it in stride as one of those surprises you get from a two year old (or kids in general.)  I try really hard not to get worked up about these events, because it's not worth it in the grand scheme of things.  "It's washable" comes out of my mouth more often than a screech about how "it's ruined."  Let's just say there are no Persian carpets, Ming vases, or white couches in my house.

The jungle out there would be my backyard.  Yesterday, I went to put the dog out, and I swear I heard something say "FEED me."  Seriously, there are weeds out there that are as tall as Audrey.  Shadow stalks around like she's on the savannah hunting zebras.  "F**k,"  I mutter under my breath, but loud enough for Mr W to hear.  Biting my tongue to keep from really letting loose, I manage to clench out that I'd probably better call the service I used last time to come and take care of the yard before someone hides a body back there.

Mr W was not amused.  But hey, I've not nagged him at all, and I've watched it get worse, knowing full well I'd need to call for reinforcements. 

Surprisingly, after he finished the rug, he went outside to work on the yard.  He had said something that annoyed me but was bugging him, so I went after him to sort it out.  He asked me if I'd come outside to help him.

Damn it!  Trapped.  He asked nicely, so how could I refuse --can we say 'sucker?' I grabbed a shovel and started talking to him about his little comment that set me off.  It wasn't that big a deal afterall, ahem, just a little discussion about what it is that I do, exactly, with all this computer time...  Guess I'm back to incognito, everyone-but-Audrey at home online time (lol, just kidding.)

I kicked some serious ass in the yard, too.  Even though I really hate it.  I can't fault Mr W too much for not tending to it, we both are landscape-challenged.  Of course, I just realized this recently.  I couldn't have realized it when we were building the house, and had to have a big backyard.  I was envisioning swing sets, children playing, a dog or two, barbecue space, and maybe someday, a pool. 

Instead I got a fertile yard and man, so while I've definately got the 'children playing' part down, and a dog, the rest of the picture is still being penciled in amidst three foot tall weeds, stray trees, and the broken sprinkler heads.

Yard improvements can get expensive, and something else more urgent always comes up-- things like car repair, sick animals, new babies, or someone needing a vital organ replaced, lol.  I've got that 'new babies' thing under control now, so I've decided that we'll tackle this yard business next, one step at a time.  I'll try not to hiss at Mr W when he can't get out there, and try to help him out when he does.  

But I'd like my own machete first.