But I hate home improvement projects.
I mean I really hate them. Our day is already packed full of the kids. I mean I literally have a hard
time taking 15 minutes for myself every day I'm home. So throw anything at all on top of just trying toget through the day and household chores such as laundry, the kitchen and feedings, and I'm whipped
by 8 p.m.
But throw a big, frickin', huge pile of sand on top of that, and we're screwed.
And I'm sore.
We had a monster pile delivered to our house today so we could essentially create a big, mongo sandbox in the backyard. It's now our job to shovel that sand into a wheelbarrow and barrow it to the backyard, where we dump the load and start over, etc., etc., etc., until the pile is gone.
I realize this is the kind of thing that a man should love. It's a chance to show how strong and powerful you are by shoveling tons (literally) into a wheelbarrow. I even had my shirt off while working. But it, like most home improvement projects, is simply mindless, hot, numbing work, the kind usually reserved for prisoners or friends you've plied with light beer.
I'm obviously not lazy - anyone who considers running and climbing mountains a fun pastime can't be lazy - but I do resent being put to work like this. I'm really trying to get over it, but this is my flaw as a male. Throw in the fact that I'm hooked on BSG, I got a new cell phone (no, it's not the iPhone, dammit) and I just got the kids' movie done for the year and there's too much temptation to sit on the couch and play. Maybe I should tell Kate I need to go run 10 miles and hide out in the park with my new phone.
I love summer, but the problem with summer is Kate's at home, with the kids, because she's a teacher, and though there aren't many moments of boredom, when the girls are napping, she gets a tad bored and probably finds lots of projects that we suddenly need to do right then. She's already painted the deck and bought a bunch of frames to redo our "family picture wall," as she calls it. She's also talking about painting the house next summer.
If you need me, I'll be under the bed in the basement.
Seriously, I'm more comfortable with our other, more important home improvement project, and that's project potty. Times two. The girls have been out of diapers for a week, and surprisingly, they're doing great. Already they're telling us when they need to go. Diapers have their advantages - after we got our cell phones, Allie told me she needed to potty, and we were by the food court, and everyone, including me, was hungry, and the bathrooms looked a half-mile away.
But I haven't changed a shitty diaper in at least a week. I honestly forgot how nice it is to not have feces on your hands. It's really is kinda nice. It took Jayden at least three years before we started to even think about potty training, but the girls, because they're girls, I guess, are kicking ass.
Maybe we should throw a party. I'll try anything to get out of shoveling sand Saturday.