My laptop broke. It is dead. It is an ex-laptop. (Does anyone remember the Dead Parrot skit?)
I haven't been doing a lot of blogging lately because the fairly new, fairly awesome desktop computer I have is upstairs in the office. And I have, you know, the two kids. If I pause in the office on the way downstairs in the mornings to do work or to blow a couple minutes reading a crafty blog about things I don't have time to make, they are hanging on my arm telling me how they're huuuuuuungry, or have to pee, or how they want to watch Max & Ruby doooooownstairs. Demanding little cusses. So down we all go, me having gotten one bill paid online if I'm lucky and NO CUTE PICTURES of the kids uploaded for you to admire.
I get them set up in front of the TV (judge all you want. It is a tool and I embrace it now. They got almost none before the age of two and a limited amount now) hit play on the DVR with the only current acceptable choice - Max & Ruby - and grab coffee and zip back upstairs. Gone are the days of Curious George love, Elmo appreciation, Barney curiosity. Only the cute little parentless bunnies will do now. I have a total of 4.8 minutes between segments before Pequita bellows, "Mooooooom, ADS!" like the commercials are going to jump out of the TV and force her to do something awful. Which is actually what happened, because she started to cut her dolls hair after seeing it done in an ad. So I run downstairs, fast forward through the ads, and come back upstairs to keep doing what I was doing. This happens over and over. Today, I ordered 3 Max & Ruby DVDs because I can't stand this anymore.
While Pequita can be counted on to sit on the couch and dress/undress/dress/undress her beloved Barbies while watching TV, some days Monito is feeling frisky and ventures off the couch. In the last week I've gone downstairs after my 4.8 minutes of televised babysitting to find him eating a stick of butter, playing with the jewel cases of my cds with all 800 cds splayed around him on the floor (note to self: investigate that iPod thing), trying to get himself a snack in the pantry by scaling a wall of shelves, and decorating a card to send to Grandpa with glitter glue in the living room. On the carpet.
Today at about 9:22 am I was just transferring money from one account to another so the mortgage payment on our rental house will be covered and both kids stomp upstairs, Pequita bearing a UPS box. Seems Monito had wanted to release his balloon into the air outside so it could fly to Grandpa's house. He let himself out the front door to do this, Pequita followed to monitor the launching. The UPS guy strolled up, gave them the package - I wonder if one of the kids signed for it? - and they brought it right up to me only because they couldn't get the tape off to open it themselves on the front lawn. Pequita took a few long minutes to relate this while Monito just jumped up and down in excitement about the package. She was very clear about the fact that she definitely THANKED the strange man who approached them with presents. When I stopped hyperventilating, we opened the box and played with the amazingly fun little wooden bits and pieces that will end up in their Christmas loot once I finish crafting it all. So I gave them cookies and play doh and parked them next to me on the upstairs side of the baby gate and ordered myself THIS for Christmas. It ain't fancy or expensive, but I can keep it downstairs and keep my kids from being abducted while I pay the cable bill. Homestead Mama will be thrilled to know that she doesn't have to buy me any more presents for the holidays.
I must point out, since many of you may not know me in real life, that NO ONE would accuse me of being a negligent or neglectful parent. I don't let the kids roam around dangerously unattended. Monito is in a developmental spurt that is changing the synaptic firings in is massive noggin (family trait, poor boy) and all the things I have been able to count on for the last 6 months or so have been rendered null and void. I am a tiny bit slow to accept this fact, but boy I'm on it now. And my new blogging tool, I mean netbook, will arrive in a few days and all will be right with the world.
I do have much to blog about, I'm just usually too tired to write it down after the kids go to bed and I've scraped the day off my kitchen table and picked the Hot Wheels out from between my toes. And really, the kids are cuter than ever.