Today marked an annual tradition at Chez J-E, spring cleaning. No, not of the house (shame on you for even THINKING that), but of the outdoor toys and paraphernalia. Because spending three hours outdoors in early spring is JUST what the doctor ordered for those suffering from sinus issues. Ahem.

Anyway, for the past few days the kids have been playing outside with all of the shovels and pails and golf clubs and trucks and balls that encompass our slightly eccentric collection of toys that live in the great outdoors. And every day, I look at the filth and think “I really need to clean those.” And then I think “Next fall, I must remember to clean the toys at the END of the season and then store them IN the garage instead of leaving them strewn all over the lawn and deck for squirrels to play with, because really, it would be SO much easier to just open up the garage on the first nice day and have clean toys.” And THEN I sit there and ponder why our lawn is such a squirrel magnet and forget all about the toys that need to be cleaned.

But it was finally nice enough today that I got inspired and decided that instead of sitting in the window contemplating the filthy toys, I would join the kids outdoors with a bucket of sudsy water and a box of Mr. Clean Magic Erasers. And so I began to scrub. And scrub, and scrub some more.

Of course, once I got going, the kids decided that they were done outside and headed inside to wreak havoc in the playroom and wave out the window every few minutes “Mom! It isn’t sparkly shiny yet! Keep scrubbing!” They are so helpful, my kids. But then I realized that it was kind of nice and peaceful out there all by myself, and if I just ignored the fact that every indoor toy in the house was being assembled into a “gigantic contraption of amazing proportions,” I was actually having a lovely afternoon, sinuses and all.

Since I was having such a peaceful afternoon cleaning, I started scrubbing the outdoor toy box, the windows, and the folding chairs. I even thought really hard about starting in on the picnic table and chairs, but then remembered that oxyclean spray had done wonders on the chairs last year, so continuing would require a run to the grocery store. And I wasn’t THAT inspired to continue scrubbing. Thus ended the annual spring cleaning day.

So come, play in our backyard! The toys are clean! A few are verging on sparkly shiny! You can even sit on a clean folding chair! But please, don’t use the bathroom, OK? Better if you just go at home…

Dear Sinuses,

I know not why you hate me so. I thought we had finally reached a truce this winter, I made sure to drink lots of tea, I tried to sleep in a more upright position, and I indulged you with steam treatments on a regular basis. You rewarded me (so I thought) by remaining somewhat clear and allowing me to breathe through at least one nostril at a time. I could live with that. I wasn’t asking for perfection.

But this morning when I woke up, Left Eye and Teeth registered a formal complaint. It seems that overnight you decided that your working conditions left something to be desired, and you made your displeasure known. Was it the new tea I tried yesterday? I know it wasn’t what we were used to, but I thought Tastebuds might want some variety. Or is it the fact that I commented on how well-behaved you have been? I was just trying to pay you a compliment.

Whatever I did to upset you, I deeply, deeply apologize. Please let me make it up to you, just let me know what you need. I truly hope we can resolve this misunderstanding before the trees start blooming.

Sincerely,

Chichimama

For some reason I found this article fascinating. I include the link with apologizes to Undercover Angel, who is battling the louse (of the head variety) as I type…

I can’t go back to work, I can’t even manage to keep my kids dressed in clothes that fit them. A came up to me this morning after getting dressed an announced: “Mommy, these clothes are too small on me. I tried on every pair of pants in my drawer and they are all too small.” And, indeed, I looked and all of her pants are capri length at best. How did I miss this one? It is not like she grew three inches overnight. C, when asked, admitted the same thing. “But that’s OK mommy, they don’t really hurt my tummy that much.”

I bet you anything the kids shoes are too small too. Because I tried to remember the last time I took them to the shoe store and couldn’t, which is never a good sign.

A job. I think I am applying for a job. (Good morning honey, I would have called you but you know, the time zone thing…). I’m spinning around my kitchen in a tizzy, trying to figure out how one goes about doing such things since it has been eight years since I did my last job search. How do I do this? Did I bother to update my resume before I left my old job? I bet I didn’t. A cover letter. I am pretty sure I need one of those too.

It’s not a big job, only a 12-15 hours a week, work from home most of the time, position. Which is, well, perfect. A way to ease back into the world of paid employment. A job that I am, on paper at least, well qualified for. Responsibilities that line up with my former ones. An organization that does advocacy in an area that is somewhat interesting to me, but will send M screaming up a wall in a conservative rage.

A job. I think I am applying for a job.

like finding out your former apartment in the city you love is worth almost three times what you sold it for. Especially right after you sell the house you bought after selling said apartment for less than you paid for it.

We never, ever, should have left the city. With that kind of profit we could have afforded private school. Green grass is soooo over-rated.