Starting up again... and again...

"Stormcrow!"



"Stormcrow!"

My son calls for his dad at least once every 5 minutes for the entire time he is within vocal distance of him. This drives "Stormcrow" nuts! Bats! Up the wall!

I have a different perspective: first, at least the boy-child leaves me alone most of the time. Second, being removed from the situation, I get to swoop in and solve the problem. And I do. I pop right into the situation and tell everyone what needs to be done in order for life to continue in a happy direction.

The problem arises, then: Stormcrow wants the situation to be taken care of with maximum speed, but he doesn't necessarily look at how that will progress in the future.

For example, how do you solve the not-going-to-bed-until-I-get-"x"? Give the boy-child "x". And then boy-child will believe that asking for something will get him a bed-time deferment. I can see that giving the boy-child a granola bar will lead to bed-time snacks EVERY NIGHT. But Stormcrow needs a reminder.

I am also struck by the fact that my relationship is a bit gender-switched. This leads me to think that it really doesn't matter who does what aspect of parenting, so long as all of the parenting is somehow done.

So, here I sit, watching Stormcrow answer the boy-child's summons while rocking the baby-girl to sleep.

No Longer the Single Parent: Getting a Houseboy, or How to Keep a Home Clean with a Preschooler

Ok. The title is a joke. It's meant to be funny.

Not because I use the term "houseboy," but because anyone with a preschooler knows, there is no keeping the house clean.

Wow, it's been about 3 months since I made the decision. I decided to get back together with the father of my youngest (almost a 6 mo). He moved in within a few weeks and I began the way I always begin - with complete honesty.

I said, "Honey, I'm a demanding bitch. But you will always know where you stand."

I think he thought I was joking. Or at least exaggerating.

Nope.

So now I have a full grown man to chase my son, watch my daughter, clean house and cook meals. I know, right? I've got it made in the shade.

Well, except he doesn't know much about raising kids, cleaning house or cooking.

I get mad sometimes, frustrated often, and I praise him whenever he does good work. For example, I told him that dinner tonight (baked chicken, mixed veggies and stuffing) was wonderful. And it was.

However, three hours ago, I looked up how to cook a chicken cuz he put it in the oven at the temp he thought it should be and for the time he guessed was right. B'gak!!

Two days ago, I gave him the eyebrow (left eyebrow raised in the WTF look) because he wanted to actually cook the stuffing inside the chicken. As in, put it in the raw bird. Something that nutritionists everywhere have warned against for decades, now.

I may have told him his idea was quaint... Or antiquated. I'm not sure which. I'm pretty sure I didn't call him names... Pretty sure...

I also remind him frequently that messes should be cleaned immediately unless you want stains. Skid marks don't belong on the toilet seat. And thou shalt not soak the cast iron in water with the wooden utensils. Gah!!

But all Mr. Mom-humor moments aside, he is totally invaluable to me. He likes to grind wheatberries and use the sifter to sift out flour for REAL whole wheat bread (which he loves to make - though I need to get him to understand that rising times are not just a kinda-suggestion).

He thought it was the greatest thing since (whole wheat) sliced bread when I bought, not one, but TWO meat grinders AND a shoulder roast for him to make ground beef. At this rate, his birthday gift is gonna be a breeze!

Oh, and he's super sweet, and cuddly too! (Though the bastard has lost more than 30 lbs since moving in... Grrrr! I've only lost about 5 lbs.) He makes me coffee in the morning while I take a shower and turns on the news for me. He makes lunch for me to take to work everyday. He has supper going when I get home. He brings in the mail every day. And he takes bug to the park (an event of epic proportions in and of itself).

So, all in all, I think we are a happier, more smoothly-running family because of him. And he's warm. He warms my butt at night.

What? You've never had a cold butt at night? It's a serious medical-ish condition.