Well, it's 2pm and it's already been quite an eventful, educational and enlightening day for us.
It started with us (myself and the boys, Brian's out of town) waking up to a freezing cold house. It's always cold in Brian's and my room, so I didn't truly notice it until I went into Jonny's room...he was in relatively ok spirits, but seemed a tad bit ticked off about something. And holy shit...when I changed his diaper, his FEET were like blocks of ice.:(
So I quickly got him put in some super warm socks and comfy clothes...got Benjamin dressed the same, fed them steaming hot oatmeal, and hurried through half a pot of coffee for myself (had it preset from the night before...love that!).
The boys ate breakfast while I watched a brief bit of news on MSNBC...had to get caught up on last night's returns...but by the time I finished my own hot coffee and oatmeal, I realized how seriously fucking cold it was in our house.
And I went to get Jonny out of his highchair...and noticed his lips were getting a funny shade of BLUE.
So, off we went out the door to the MAC. Gratefully, their heat was working
just fine. The boys played happily in the nursery while I went to Body Pump, and then even had time for some cardio. In the meantime, I'd put a call into our heating guy (we've known him since our days in our old house, so I was comfy leaving the side door open for him) and was hoping he was working away on our furnace while I sweat it out to Eminem on the elliptical. No one gets it done like Slim Shady, it's all I'm saying.
Anyway, I go get the boys and see that it's now BLIZZARDING like a Steven King movie outside, and we have to hit the pediatrician's office in 15 minnies. Forgot to mention that we had a visit scheduled for Jonny C...I was convinced that he had yet another ear infection. Boy has been on me like flypaper lately, and fussy as HELL. Plus he'd just gotten over a cold, so I was more than certain the poor little dude's ear was totally effed.
We brace ourselves against the cold...the boys in their gear, me in my coat and workout SHORTS...and literally walk at a slant to make our way against the windy blizzard to our car. I'm buckling Jonny in, who now has boogers making their way across his pink, frozen cheek...and glance each way for Benjamin. I don't see him immediately, but within a few seconds see the tips of his snow hat bobbing up and down in front of the hood of the car. The snow is seriously blowing so hard that he doesn't hear me when I call to him...so I get Jonny buckled, shut his door, and hurry to the front of the car (did I mention I was in shorts?), where Benjamin's making snow angels in the parking lot.
Hilarious, yes, but holy hell...I was fucking cold. And the snow was now piling up in my ponytail so thick I looked like I was wearing a Bea Arthur wig.
I manage to coax Benjamin into the car with promises of suckers at Dr. Brown's office.
He's pumped.
We get to the doctor's office, and it's more of the same getting out of the car...hats and mittens are off again, so we do the whole ordeal out in the car before walking the short trek to the front door.
"Thumbs in the thumb spot,
here we go!" Benjamin sings...it's a song I made up for the "getting ready to go outside" process. But at this moment I'm wanting to adjust the lyrics to something a bit more fitting:
"Put your fucking hands in your mittens, thumbs be damned...we're gettin the F outta the car!"
Have you ever (if you're a mom) been in the waiting room of the ped's office, and some frazzled mom blows in with her kids--who aren't dressed properly for the weather--and you just know whatever's transpired for them in the last half hour, it wasn't anything
good....?!?
Well, that was us.
I was managing, despite the conditions, to sing with the boys, so as to keep their spirits level and upbeat. But when we bust into the waiting room, me singing "We're off to see the doctor!" (sung to "
We're off to see the wizard!"), Benjamin marching proudly in front, coat on, but totally unzipped...hat on, but gloves dropping--one by one, like afterthoughts--to the ground as he walks in the room...Jonny riding my hip, directing the orchestra in the air with one hand...and me, still wearing the Bea Arthur wig, wearing a coat...but no hat or gloves...and workout shorts......I got
just a few looks from the flock of moms in the waiting room.
Not that I took much time to pay attention, though.
We got through the visit pretty well, actually. Dr. Brown confirmed that I am,
in fact, a total lunatic...because Jonny's ears are fine. But turns out he is cutting his bi-cuspids (wherever the hell those are) right now, and one just broke through in the last few days, so it's no wonder the little dudes been in the dumper.
Lollies and stickers--
and one fabulous copay--later...we're back in the car, on our way home.
But I have to pee, and I haven't heard back yet from the heating guy.
So we swing by my parents and I run inside to pee...leaving the boys in the car, Dan Zanes blaring and lollies being smeared on cheeks and noses. My dad's in the office on the computer, having a "sick day" and looks at me with pity as I flail into the bathroom in my shorts. I reference these again, because as minutes go on, I'm seriously starting to feel like a total asshole in them.
Did I mention I'd stopped for gas on the way to the doctor's office?
Yeah, timed that empty tank
perfectly. Just when the wig had started to melt...a fresh layer.
I receive a call from the heating guy, who says he'll be there in a half hour. So I decide to swing through the Bucks drivethru (boys are, at this point, relatively content). I get a hot tea, chocky-milky for Benjamin...and some milk for Jonathan.
Jonathan promptly takes his sippy of fresh, organic, vanilla milk (what was I thinking?) and dumps it on the ground. Benjamin works about the first 1/3 of his chocky milk box...and hands it to Jonny, who turns it upside down and empties it, little bursts at a time, all over himself and the back seat.
This makes him cold...so he starts to cry.
So I start to sing his favorite lullaby, and Benjamin starts yelling above me, saying "Mommy!!! I wanna talk to you!!!"
This is his latest way of staging a protest. Whenever I'm talking, or Brian's talking, or anyone
he wants attention from is talking (or in this case, singing)...he demands we immediately "talk" to him.
But when I ask him what he wants to talk about, it's the usual:
"I wanna talk you, Mommy. Stop _____." And this time, it was the singing.
So I stop, and Jonny starts to wail again.
Just a few more blocks, and we're home.
By now, Jonathan is seriously red-faced and pissed off. Face covered with snot. We trudge out of the car into the house...and there's no heat. Heating guy has not arrived, has not been already...and it's time for lunch and naps.
I crank the oven up to 450degrees--for heat only.
And suddenly I feel like the Ingalls family. I'm wishing for a wood-burning stove. Or better yet, a fireplace I actually knew how to use (gotta get that one figured out).
We make it through lunch, and the heating guy (today it's Jeff, the brother of our usual guy, Scott) finally arrives....seems he got lost in our neighborhood, since all of the street signs are covered in snow.
Jeff makes his way to the basement, stopping for a required interrogation with Benjamin, who puts the poor man through a littany of questions, all the while perched on his barstool at the island, eating a quesadilla like he's the first 2yr old ever to do this.
Jeff obliges him and heads downstairs.
By now I'm holding an extremely whiny Jonathan on my hip, who is PAST DUE for a nap, but I can't put him down until there's heat in his room...you know, our being out of snowmobile suits at that moment.
Within seconds...literally, seconds...Jeff calls up to me:
"Hey Meg? I think I found your problem..."
Having only taken seconds, I'm bracing myself for the worst. Clearly all he needed was two seconds to see how severely screwed up our furnace was...something of that nature.
But
no.
"Are you aware of the on/off switch on the side of your furnace?" he asks me.
"Well...um...no...?"
"Well, looks like it's been flipped
off."
I go down there, Jonny on hip, to investigate. Said "switch" is right at a certain 2yr old's height.
Hmmm. (insert wry smiley guy here)
"Well, Jeff?" I say. "Looks like you got to travel here from Hudsonville today in some of the worst weather we've had all winter...to fix the latest of Dennice the Menace's tricks."
He's fine with it, even laughs...but I'm embarrassed as hell. I usually keep on top of our "utilities", since I'm almost
always the one who deals with the service people during daytime house calls.
Scratch that.
Not almost. It
is me, every time.
So why did I not KNOW this about our furnace?
I have him give me a tutorial in how to diagnose problems---ranging from pilot light, ignition apparatus...to your basic, run of the mill SWITCH on the side of the furnace. He even goes through how to read the light on the inside, all of it's signals, etc.
By the time he leaves. I'm a total heating and cooling
pro.
And there's quesadilla smeared all over my kitchen island. But whatever...the heat is on!
I get both boys down for naps and marvel at the mess in my kitchen. I'm hardly able to get Benjamin to sleep for all of the "Jeff" excitement.
I hear him, upstairs in his crib, talking himself to sleep.
"Man came overrrr...and fixed cold machine. And Jonny warm again!!! Man funny."
Kid you not.
And so, as I clean up the kitchen...I'm awarded my first quiet moment of the day...and decide to be grateful for how
solvable my problems really are/were today. The gritty moments of my day today really were hilarious, if nothing else. And just think how unfortunate it would truly be if I wasn't able to get heat
at all in our house.:(
So I start cleaning up the kitchen and see the garbage men through our tv room window, one street away. They'll be at our house any minute. And I think about how grateful I am that I'M NOT out hauling garbage in this weather! Or delivering mail,
anything outdoors like that. So I quickly make some yummy hot chocolate, put it in a travel mug, and surprise the hell outta the garbage man when he comes up our driveway.
I'm pretty sure he wanted to hurl when he tasted the sugar-free swiss miss cocoa...but the thought sure put a smile on his red, chapped cheeks.:)
It's the little things that make a difference, right?
Happy faces eating oatmeal in a kitchen so cold you could hang meat...
Body Pump classes...
Coldplay on my ipod...
Boys giggling at my singing in the pediatrician's parking lot, even though their eyelashes are frozen...Switches on furnaces...
and
hot cocoa.
Shitty hot cocoa, but
hot cocoa nonetheless.
And my blog.:)
