Out of Order

That's what I'm dealing with. 

"Out of order" signs on Ari's bathroom sink. 

I couldn't remember what she told me was wrong with it. I ran the water and it drained painfully slow. I remember the problem now. Nothing a little Draino couldn't fix though. Half a bottle later and the sink was draining again. Not as fast as the other one but good enough until I can get the plumber out here. Besides, I've long learned that's life with kids - something is always broken or half-working. Something.

I've been trying to get Avery to spend more than five minutes without touching me. It's not working out so well. 

And let me tell you, I have a shit ton of patience with my kids. But last night when trying to put her to bed, it was wearing thin. Paper thin. So much so that I wanted Samuel L Jackson in the room to read her the first couple pages of a bedtime book my brother shared with me years ago. Shit gets a little intense even for my taste a couple minutes in...but up until about 1:10 I'm like, "Yes, Samuel! Preach!!!!!!"

We've lived in Europe for over two years now and I still can't get this radiator bullshit down pat. And it's getting chilly so I need to figure it out. 

Like, I know how to get them hot or not. I just can't find the right balance of warmth for each room. 

It's like, the hallway is the perfect temp, the girls' bedroom is artic cold, and the master bedroom is hot as balls. 

I miss central heating and a/c. 

Hell, I miss a/c period.

I'm trying to make time throughout each day to do something for myself. But the most progress I've made in that area on a consistent basis is showering. 

And half the time I don't even get to run a brush through my hair afterward. 

And makeup? Fuggedabouit. 

Because I put other things as more important like laundry. How is it that it never ends? Oh right, because each run cycle in these shitty European machines is over two hours long. Two hours! I got so accustomed to that nonsense that when I went home in February to visit my parents I started a load and came back to change it like half a day later and my mom had already washed, dried, and folded like five loads. 

I forgot how quickly laundry can be done in countries living in the 21st century. 

I know that last statement makes me sound like I'm a typical American asshole but I promise I'm not. 

I'm just an asshole that happens to be American.  

There's a difference.

Christmas is coming which means I need to order most the presents now because again...Europe. 

I'm determined to make everyone stockings this year but seeing how I just finished the baby blanket I began crocheting about a year ago I doubt the stockings will be ready for use this year. 

A girl can try though. But you best believe I'll have backup stockings. You know, just in case.

Samantha's started this thing where she'll dig in the recycle bin right in front of me. 

I'll call her name and she slowly walk away like Eyore. It almost makes me feel bad. But then I'm like I didn't do anything wrong. 

From there, she'll saunter over to the trash bin and nudge the lid up with her nose then cut her eye at me. 

If she had opposable thumbs she'd invert her drinking glass and tell me to look at her cup of care. 

I see you, Sam.

This morning I spilled coffee on my bed because I forgot I set it next to me on the bed. 

That's how bad my memory is. 

Luckily we have a mattress protector because that's just what you put on a $2000 mattress when you have four kids. 

And everyone things I'm insane for having all white bedding with kids but my colour choice is deliberate. I can bleach the shit outta white bedding and it looks new again. #AllTheChemicals

I'm trying to purge some of our material possessions. I'm determined to only own things we absolutely love and need. And last winter we went from a house that was 2600 sq ft to one that is 1800 sq ft so I got rid of like four rooms worth of furniture, no lie. As well as a shit ton of other smaller things. And after I stopped rocking on the corner from the shock of how tiny our current house feels compared to our old one I actually enjoyed having less. And now I feel like I need to do it again. Purge. Not move to a smaller house.

I almost killed our Beta fish, Cheetoh. You heard about his brave journey here. Yesterday I was cleaning his tank. Avery was in her bouncy chair just feet away. 

I was slowly pouring the old water out of his tank into the sink. I always do this with the fish still in the tank and then I plop them and the tiny amount of water left into a cup while I clean the tank. 

So I'm slowly pouring out the water when I heard Avery coughing. I turn my head to check on her for like not even a second. When I looked back Cheetoh was in the sink swirling to his death with his dirty water. 

I set the tank down and started grasping for him whilst yelling something like: Oh my God Cheetoh no no no no no no no no no no no...
You get the point. 

I grab him and he slipped from my fingers. 

Homeboy's lower body is under the drain. 

I grab the only piece of him I still see and let me tell ya'll that Jesus loves Cheetoh because I caught him. I threw him back into the dirty tank and looked over at Avery. She was giggling.

She likes to keep the mood light.

I finished up the cleaning of Cheetoh's tank and put him in an old one we have, his big one just isn't working great for him.

Now I suppose it's good the Draino didn't work as well as it should've, or that the kids somehow clogged the drain to begin with because then the sink would've drained proper fast and I'd have had to break some really shitty news to my kids.

But don't tell them that otherwise I can hear them retelling me this story anytime they break something from now on.

I can hear them now:

"But last time we ended up inadvertently saving Cheetoh's life, mum!"

No. I saved his life. Ya'll broke the sink.

Happy Humpday, Folks. May the rest of your week be less eventful than my last 24 hours.