Boys Like to Get Dirty!

Boys Like to Get Dirty!

In the end, that's what it all boils down to.

Boys Like to Get Dirty!

Our friend Tony came over the other day to clean our windows before the Realtors came to preview the house we didn’t want to sell.

It was one of our first beautiful mornings, where the temperature hit the 60s before 9am, and I sat down to face the large stack of bills sitting ominously on my desk.

Glancing outside my window I saw two buck naked swamp monsters flash by. I should go supervise, I thought to myself with an addendum of, being a mother is an incredibly difficult job where we are in a constant state of dealing with an incomprehensible amount of overload and I need to remain sitting.

Unable to continue to concentrate, I raced to get my camera and felt my toes sink into something soft, smooshy and warm. “Shiiiittttt,” I screamed, with Tony as my witness.

“Welcome to my life, I said to Tony who had caught on film the monsters running around. He replied, “Yeah, that’s why I’m not getting a dog, but there is nothing like seeing children completely free at play, and by the way what radio station are we listening to?” I told him, “That music is coming from my iPod, which means that you are also inside my head right now,” and he admitted that he liked the mix which is on the extreme side of eclectic ranging from Pearl Jam to Sidney Bechet.

This house showing thing is no picnic and one thing I am most certain of is that realtors enjoy toying with people by doing things like scheduling a showing the day before the Open House and not showing up. I really want to know what goes behind the logic of “forgetting to cancel”. Are they just thinking to themselves, “She’s a mom, she is always cleaning anyway,” and my retort is a huge NOT!!!!! Cleaning is a complete waste of time when you have children and puppies and I would prefer to be doing about a thousand other things, thank you very much you inconsiderate breed of worthless earthworms. I think I’ll send a fart in your general direction! Of course I’m not talking about all?realtors. Some of my best friends are realtors.

I woke up early to let Muki do her business, get the kids lunch together and clean the house and I was feeling good that I had everything under control until Tucker said, Uh Oh Mommy, and pointed, and the shit went down. Muki had drank too much water from our creek and had deposited wet, smelly squirts everywhere. Gagging, I began attempting to pull the squirt out of the fringe of the carpet and scraping up the mess with a metal spatula while screaming, Waaaaaadddddddeeeee. I neeeeeeed you this morning. Please don’t leave me. And, Booooyyyyyyyyssss, make your own breakfast and lunch this morning, which you should be doing anyway at this point in your livessssss as I am not your frickin’ servant. This goes for you too Hootie-Hoo, and I heard a little reply, “but I don’t know how to make my own lunch.”

As I cleaned up I asked Baddy to get me a bucket and he looked blankly at me asking, “What kind of bucket?” “…. I certainly don’t need a beach bucket or a bucket to throw up in. I need a goddamn bucket to mop the floor with,” that did not go over very well.

I threw lemon oil on the floor and mopped it up as quickly as I could, opened all of the windows and herded the kids into the car, still on schedule, until humbly, I called for Baddy, “ummmm, hi. It’s me. Welll, life can be sooo funny sometimes,” and he laughed at my levity until I told him that the car wouldn’t start and I needed rescuing. Youre shittin’ me, he remarked, and I mentioned that shit seemed to be the theme of the morning.

Finally, we got on the road and as we passed our resident fox with her chocolate pawed kits, I mentioned that this was a good example of how sometimes you just have to let go of the plan and be good about switching tracks and not behave as I just did. The boys agreed whole heartedly. Suddenly a deer bounded across the road directly in front of us. “See,”I said, our luck is turning. If it were a really bad day we would have hit that deer…” Looking for something to know on wood in Vini-Man, where was that trail of wood that was always blanketing the floor? Thumper cheerfully stated, “I feel like we are Texans because, for some reason, I feel that they have bad luck.” ???

Listening to the signs, I am scheduling an appointment with a financial adviser to see if there is any way that we can do some creative financing to hold on to the house for just a bit longer and in the meantime I think that a night out on the town with Baddy is in tall order.

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22 thoughts on “Boys Like to Get Dirty!”

  1. It is very scary to see that the sister in the family (well besides Michele) who has always had it totally together and under controls life is slowly turning into her eldest sisters life. Unfortunately, welcome to my world!!!!! What a day you had! Usually only happens in Melanies life or comedy shows!! Ha…you are human after all! Although I still think you are super mom and wife!
    Those pictures are hysterical. Timing is everything! Maybe these signs of chaos and mishap mean that you are not meant to sell your dream home and has pushed you to go back to financial advisor for better advice. If there is a will, there is a way…how about a bake sale!
    You have a family of foxes living at your house as well. Scary that our lives get more parallel everyday! My fox family has seemed to have move back into my shed in the backyard. (they moved after my first attempt of mowing the lawn) After Hayden and Tasha rescued a 2 week old sparrow whose mother was run over a car and he fell out of his nest in search of food. I know birds well because as you remember our family dog growing up used to bring home baby birds all the time. I knew this poor little thing did not have long to live on its own. We made it a nest out of a shoe box (thankyou Jimmy Choo) and fed it with a dropper…gravy from Summers cat food. Then I had to drive it 45 minutes away to a bird sanctuary as all local vets would have just uthanized it. The sparrow is now going to live a happy life.
    I am resigned to believe that I am the animal whisperer of Wellesley.
    Oh no…..just went off the topic….
    Any way, I heard some hamburger fast food chain is now selling candles to smell like there restaurants….., grease. (euuuuuu) I suggest you buy one of those next time buyers come thru. Oh. that defeats the purpose……..
    Keep your chin up! You will survive this period in your life
    Love you
    xo

    Reply
    • ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha you do make me laugh. Perfect my ass and I’m ready to reveal it, thanks to you.

      You are the one who is, and has always been, a little nature loving hippie dancing through the daisies of life, tucking all the black sheep of the world under your little wings and telling all the numnuts to F off, except of course for the ones you sleep with.

      Can you feed me with a dropper? I’m needing that kind of loving.

      Reply
  2. HI Jillian,
    Glad you did not hit the deer!
    Really funny, I know it is not always funny when you are living it.
    I could not watch the movie. It says to accept sender friend request, but there is no request.
    OXOX

    Reply
    • Katalin, the best part of it is that as I am dealing with all of this shit I am thinking, Man this is good blog fodder!

      Try the video now. I fixed the problem.

      Reply
  3. Next time you are cleaning up shit and need a bucket, look at Wade and say, “waffer thin dinner mint?”

    If he gives you a blank stare, say, “bring me a bucket”

    He understands this shit

    Reply
  4. I saw the Title on my blogroll and had to run over here to see what was going on. All the while thinking ‘Jillian let loose and got her rant on!’ Boy did you ever! Fantastic. And Hilarious. Love love love your swamp monsters. They look so free and happy.

    Reply
    • Vivianne, FYI I always repeat your name to myself like Stella in Streetcar Named Desire, for some reason. I saw the play with Aiden Quinn in NYC a long, long time ago… in my past life.

      Anyway, glad that you ran over to me as I am about to do with you.

      Reply
  5. Yeah shit happens, our composting toilet was full of it once instead of being digested and I might add, we were also not very diplomatic at that time. Shit had to be moved and strangely it moved into our language as well.
    The great thing is you are observing, staying humorous (wow) and not getting swamped by the drama of it all. In your situation that is near sheer impossible to do, a herculean effort and you are doing it! Congrats and I hope that the financial advisor is a genius, sees how capable you are and will find a way.
    If you can handle shit this way, you can handle anything. You go, Jillian, hugs for you even if you smell a bit, Wilma
    .-= Wilma Ham´s last blog ..Your ego can’t collaborate. =-.

    Reply
    • Wilma, I don’t even know what a composting toilet is…I have so much to learn.

      Yeah, without humor I wouldn’t certainly perish. The blog helps as I encourage all good blogging material to come my way.

      It’s funny but, in between the humps of despair I go through, I am beginning to like myself more and more, either that or being in my 40’s is a wonderful thing.

      Thanks for your encouragement.

      Reply
  6. Hi Jillian! I SO appreciate your rant blogs – its good therapy for you and great writing/entertainment for us! You gotta love 40! Forty is an “f” word – as is fifty – and both ages I let it rip and decided there was great freedom wrapped up in all these numbers and I really grew into not caring what anyone else thought of anything I said or did anymore. Quite liberating! Treat all shit with lavender and chamomile tea is all I can say, haha!
    Hugs
    suZen

    Reply
    • Hi SuZen,

      I am finding that I have a knack for ranting and I’m sure glad that you appreciate it.

      I’m going to follow your example and let my F years rip!

      The shit continues…

      Reply
  7. Loved this entry, made me smile ear to ear! After my mom, who never cussed, got cancer she started wearing a shirt that said ‘Shit Happens’. We were all shocked, and then realized those two words put all of our ‘powerlessness’ into perspective.

    Your boys playing in the mud reminds me to LIVE IN THE MOMENT, DO STUFF THAT FEELS GOOD, and BE SILLY! Thanks for the inspiration.

    Reply
  8. Loved this entry, made me smile ear to ear! After my mom, who never cussed, got cancer she started wearing a shirt that said ‘Shit Happens’. We were all shocked, and then realized those two words put all of our ‘powerlessness’ into perspective.

    Your boys playing in the mud reminds me to LIVE IN THE MOMENT, DO STUFF THAT FEELS GOOD, and BE SILLY! Thanks for the inspiration.

    Reply

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