Update From the House of Poop

AH yes, just when it seemed things were finally calming down, that the major poop (at least animal related poop) incidents were mostly behind me, I got a big stinky smack from reality, courtesy of Pippa, and some certain spouse who shall remain nameless.  And apparently being in the 3rd trimester of pregnancy and in more or less constant pain relegating me to the couch all the time gets me no sympathy either.

You see, it’s been rough to keep things together around here when I can’t be on my feet for long.  I spent all day Sunday cleaning, and I mean ALL day – on my feet for 15 minutes, off my feet for 20, and so on and so forth.  Makes for a long day of getting not enough done.  Being alone during the week means constant vigilence against mess (in other words, me screaming from the couch for the kids to clean up after themselves for once), and using up whatever energy I have to take Pip out in the extreme heat to do her business (takes her forever – I generally feel the beginnings of heatstroke by the time she gets around to finding the right spot to “go”).  SO I have a rule I have been using, and I thought everyone knew it.  Basically, she poops twice a day – after breakfast and after dinner.  SHe is not allowed off leash in the house during the day until after her morning poop.  Then after dinner the same rule applies – once she’s had her dinner she cannot be off leash in house until after the poop.  It’s worked perfectly for me.

Well, this evening that somehow did not happen.  Paul took her for a nice long evening walk, brough her in and let her off leash.  I assumed she pooped, since they were out for about 40 minutes and she’s almost never failed to produce after a nice walk.  I assumed wrong.  Therefore, it came as quite a surprise when I began to smell a certain bad smell emanating from somewhere near the front of the house.  I snooped around, and there, of all places, was a big pile on the top stair going up to the second floor, just in front of the baby gate keeping her from going upstairs.  WTF?  Why there??????  How did she manage that?  Was that some not so subtle message for the cats that taunt her from their relative safety up there on the other side of the gate?  I don’t get it.  And the timing sucks because I am out of my all purpose spray cleaner.  Good thing Paul had some Simple Green cleaner in the garage.  Which brings me to my next frustration – why did I have to be the one to clean it up?  Hello???  Pregnant???  In pain and discomfort?  Not supposed to clean the cat litter????  What makes dog poop safer than cat poop?  At least I know all the cats eat is their bagged food (indoor cats – they’re never outside), which basically looks the same coming out the other end.  And no, my cats dont’ drink from the toilet.  The lids are closed at all times, because I use bleach in them, and therefore do not want the cats to drink it.  Hell, the dog eats anything she sees, inside AND outside.  God only knows what the baby and I got exposed to.  Well, actually it’s probably fine because I didn’t breathe the entire time I was cleaning, perilously perched over the top step trying to conrol my retching.  But still!!!!!!!!!!  What happened to the days when a pregnant woman could expect some pampering or sympathy???  Did those days ever actually exist? And if so, how do I go back to them????????  Will my days of poop cleaning ever end?  Or will I progress from cleaning baby and dog poop to elderly parent and spouse poop??  Will my children be doomed to clean my poop when I am elderly?  Because somehow that is not preferable to having my own poop cleaning days behind me.  Dear lord I would never have survived life before indoor plumbing.

Crossdressing Papa?

Up until now both of my kids have drawn one type of picture almost exclusively: princesses.  Or, themselves in full princess regalia.  They love drawing dresses and jewelry and long long hair.  So I guess it’s not too surprising that Neve has decided that the only fun way to draw pictures of her papa is “wearing mama’s dresses and high heels”.  She’s given me like a dozen pictures now.  And the more she draws, the more hilarious she thinks it is.

Poor Paul.

Here Knitty Knitty

So I decided to actually listen to my body today and take it easy.  And you know what?  For the first day in several weeks I did not experience debilitating pain.  Unfortunately it also means that no laundry or housewoek got done and I had to rely on Emily for a lot of things.  But I also got quite a lot of knitting progress made.  The girls have been bugging me for ages to knit them some “rainbow socks”, and they picked out colorful sock yarn for the project, and today I got halfway through with a Neve sock.And it’s nice to have a day where I am not boning up on my labor breathing.  I made the mistake of preparing lasagne for dinner last night – god forbid I spend 40 minutes on my feet!  I was in agony for like 2 hours after that.  Not cool.  That’s when I decided I’d better try to be more lazy.  I’ve been on my feet very little today (mostly to let the dog out) and it’s worked.

The moral of the story is that I just might get a lot of knitting projects done by the time this baby comes.  And that’s a good thing, because I have sooooo many Works in Progress on the needles that it’s ridiculous.

On a random note, I am totally addicted to Deadliest Catch on Discovery.  I would’ve watched it all day yesterday if the girls had let me.


I don’t know if it’s the hormones hitting me particularly hard, or if it’s just my usual semi annual bout, but I am feeling massively homesick lately.  It’s kind of hard being an artist that is mostly inspired by the terrain of the northest while I am living in the south.  Mostly it’s the eastern part of upstate NY, which is where I grew up.  We moved a lot when I was a kid so it’s really the whole region rather than a particular town.  I spent a lot of time in Kingston, and though I would never want to live there again, I definitely have the urge to go for a visit and see how things have changed.I guess it’s funny what sticks in your mind as you get older.  Now that it’s summer I am nostalgic for the many summer days I spent at my aunt Phyllis’ house in Tappan with my cousins, playing out all day in her yard with our Barbies.  And then there are days when what I’d really like is to go hang out at the picnic grounds overlooking Lake George in Lake George Village.  I liked watching the steamboats coming and going from the dock, and there’s nothing like a big bowl of freshly made ice cream at Wagar’s on the strip to wind down the day.

I really am a New England girl at heart – I like foggy overcast days and the smell of salty sea air.  Paul’s convinced I was a New England fisherman in a past life.  Maybe I am just weird.

Paul and I are headed to Martha’s Vineyard in July – I am hoping it will really feed my soul being up there for a few days and hold me over for another few months.  I’ll take plenty of pictures and spend time when I get home turning those into paintings.  That should help anyway.