What do you do with extra time on your hands?
First, there was the additional hour gifted so generously by the time change. That seems like forever ago, right? I'm all adjusted now, but for a few days it threw off my sleep patterns like I was a two year old. I was awake at 4 am on Monday. Coach's alarm went off and I sprung out of bed ready for the day.
As an aside . . . I agree, it is crazy that my husband wakes up at 4 am. His commute is less than 7 minutes, and it takes him less than 20 minutes to get ready for work. I know what you are thinking, because I've puzzled over the same thing. Are there really patients in need of physical therapy before 5 am? The answer is 'NO'. He does get a few patients showing up insanely early, like 5:30 or 6. He goes to work in the middle of the night when his schedule isn't overflowing with patient care to address his managerial non-patient crap. Yes, I consider leaving for work before 5 am the middle of the night. Duh.
Oh, how accomplished I felt by the time the kids left for school on Monday. I wasted no time and cleaned out the basement fridge. This was quite an undertaking. Living with two kitchens set up on two different floors has been nothing short of chaotic. It is quite easy to lose track of food when operating out of two fridges. To clarify, I always operate out of two fridges. One is typically more of the family 'cow' if you will. It's where I keep our 6 gallons of milk for the week. I won't gross you out with some of the treasures I stumbled upon in my long-overdue fridge clean out.
|I love how the floors turned out!|
Since we returned to our home after the floor refinishing ordeal, I have chosen NOT to reconstruct the kitchen in the dining room/living room area. Those rooms looked so pristine. I couldn't bring myself to introduce boxes of cereal, a toaster, cutting boards, a vinyl backed tablecloth, and dozens of abandoned plastic cups. I banished all eating to the basement mini-kitchen. Translation: I needed the basement fridge to function. The formerly 'main' fridge is now located in the family room instead of in the corner of the dining room. It's become the 'cow'- storing our milk and crock pots. I'm trying to avoid having it serve in a mainstream fashion, because my kids drop things out of the fridge every hour like clockwork. Um, the family room is carpeted. No thanks.
Once the fridge was organized . . . a real shock to my system, I washed all of the dishes. Then I decided to make bacon and eggs. I knew the kids might think they had been delivered to an alternate universe when they woke up a few hours later (like normal people enjoying the gift of an extra hour of sleep), because while I am able to cook in the basement it isn't a regular occurrence.
|We rarely eat at this basement table, |
because it's where we dry our dishes.
I just realized, I still haven't shared with you the breakfast sandwich adventure I launched early on in our kitchen-less state. I promise - that is coming. I guess I got sidetracked when I felt compelled to report about the puke, the floors, and my family dynamics.
When Reggie started throwing up at 4:20 am yesterday, I found myself wide awake once again. There was an entire week between when Mini, Eddie, myself, and my Mom were sick, so this was unexpected. I assume he dragged this delightful stomach bug home from school on Wednesday night. The kids had no school on Thursday (yesterday) or today, so he doesn't even get to miss school. Instead he is missing one of his good friend's birthday party/sleepovers. Yes, there were tears.
I got Reg comfortable, and decided to clean the bathrooms. Another great way to spend a few hours early in the morning. Tank, Curly, and Coach were the only family members still standing strong against the bug. I was hoping to cut this thing off in its tracks.
No such luck. Tank started throwing up at 2:30 am THIS MORNING. Unable to go back to sleep after he popped into my room to share the latest puke update, I decided writing would be a great use of this legitimate middle of the night free-time.
Of course Coach scooted out of the house at 3:00 am yesterday (an hour and 20 minutes before Reg hurled, in case you are counting) to catch a flight. He is in Arizona for 4 days at a conference. He wanted me to go. Since the grade school had a four day weekend, I had to pass. I couldn't pawn the kids off on friends for a four day weekend. Damn it.
Oh yippee, Curly just burst out of her room sobbing (it's now 4:20 am). She is the last kid to fall to the bug. This actually comes as a relief to me. A few days after Thanksgiving, Curly and Mini are competing in the Midwest championships for Irish dancing. I was starting to worry that Curly would get sick closer to the competition. Coach is the last healthy family member -unless he's losing his lunch in his Arizona hotel.
Maybe for the rest of my non-sleeping, free-time, I will just sit in the bathroom holding Curly's hair back and think about Arizona.