My birthday was last week. It was a big one too (agh!). Truth be told, I was starting to look forward to it. I have ignored birthday celebrations for years because QB thought it was dumb to have huge parties for an adult. I let it be known that I was expecting something more than a store-bought cake to celebrate my big day.
So, this is how it actually played out.
I got up with Captain at the normal 6am. Followed shortly by Prince at 7. No rest for the birthday girl. Meanwhile, QB lounged in bed (alone) until 8:30 while I prepared breakfast for the munchkins and managed to sneak a few bites here and there myself. QB finally appeared and announced that he was taking the day off work. I started to get my hopes up that he had big plans to celebrate my day, but disappointment soon set in, along with reality. He said he called off because he wasn't feeling well and took his ass back to bed.
So, along with normal-day chores and activities, I also had to answer the questions, "What is Daddy doing? When is Daddy coming down? Can I go wake Daddy now?" every 15 seconds.
When QB decided to join the human race again, he made it known that he was going to do somethings he wanted to that day and not to expect him to do anything with his kids. Nice...
I did get a few nice gifts from him and the kiddos. But for the rest of the day, I folded laundry, fed kids, cleaned the house, made beds, and all that good stuff while he dug in my garden (something I love to do, but can't with two kids hanging on me), washed his truck (not my car, however) and generally did what he wanted.
Come dinner time, I thought he must have plans, but as it got later and he never came in for a shower or to ask what I wanted to eat, I realized that there was a big fat nothing planned. I finally asked him what he was going to do about dinner and he looked at me like I had sprouted a second head. His response: "Well, what did you have planned. I was supposed to work today anyway and what would you have done then?"
I told him to order something and do it fast- before the natives got restless.
The next day (a Friday), I had wanted to go out with friends. I did all the planning, inviting, and getting ready myself. No one else had a husband coming, but he was insistent upon going. I tried to convince him that he would be bored with a bunch of women (which he was- hehehe). After all, what do we talk about when we get together- our husbands and our children. My parents babysat, and I asked him to go home and relieve then at a decent hour. My neighbor was there so I had a ride home. But he refused to leave so I ended up going home at 11:30.
So much for a big exciting birthday. Guess I have to wait another ten years to get the celebration I wanted.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Monday, July 4, 2011
Taking Flight
We have birds in our house. Not in the part we live in, but in the attic, and somehow one managed to find it's way to the basement also. This may seem like a general house-repair kind of problem, but let me take a moment and explain it the way I see it. Clearly, it's all QB's fault.
Three years ago, when we needed a new roof put on the house, I contacted a number of reputable local companies who did roofing work. After getting estimates, I allowed QB to make the final decision on who was going to do the work because I really don't know anything about roofing, the materials, or how much it should cost. I heard for months that he wished he could do it himself so we wouldn't have to pay someone to do it, but, of course, I would be waiting years for that to happen. He finally went out a hired someone to do it. Not one of the licensed contractors on my list, but a I-do-this-on-the-side-when-I-can-with-whatever-help-I-can-find kind of guy. Of course it was cheaper. But three years later, the gutters are about to fall off the house. Not that I'm a roofing expert, but it appears the man who did the work on our house wasn't either.
So, now we have problems with a three year old roof that is supposed to be good for at least 30 years. What would you do? Fix it, have it done correctly, make the original worker make the repairs? All of these would be correct answers. Let me tell you what is not an acceptable answer: nothing. And that's what was done.
After lots of snow, torrential downpours and a few frightening wind storms, we have holes large enough for birds to get into the attic. The spot the like best is in the corner above Captain's room and the time they are the noisiest is about 8:00 at night, when he has been asleep for about 30 minutes.
I've asked nicely. I've complained. I've made sarcastic comments. I've nagged. I've started asking my father-in-law to stop by and force QB to do something about it. And still... there are birds in my attic.
Three years ago, when we needed a new roof put on the house, I contacted a number of reputable local companies who did roofing work. After getting estimates, I allowed QB to make the final decision on who was going to do the work because I really don't know anything about roofing, the materials, or how much it should cost. I heard for months that he wished he could do it himself so we wouldn't have to pay someone to do it, but, of course, I would be waiting years for that to happen. He finally went out a hired someone to do it. Not one of the licensed contractors on my list, but a I-do-this-on-the-side-when-I-can-with-whatever-help-I-can-find kind of guy. Of course it was cheaper. But three years later, the gutters are about to fall off the house. Not that I'm a roofing expert, but it appears the man who did the work on our house wasn't either.
So, now we have problems with a three year old roof that is supposed to be good for at least 30 years. What would you do? Fix it, have it done correctly, make the original worker make the repairs? All of these would be correct answers. Let me tell you what is not an acceptable answer: nothing. And that's what was done.
After lots of snow, torrential downpours and a few frightening wind storms, we have holes large enough for birds to get into the attic. The spot the like best is in the corner above Captain's room and the time they are the noisiest is about 8:00 at night, when he has been asleep for about 30 minutes.
I've asked nicely. I've complained. I've made sarcastic comments. I've nagged. I've started asking my father-in-law to stop by and force QB to do something about it. And still... there are birds in my attic.
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