Monday, August 17, 2009

Blog to Survive...a Monday in the Life of the Scats.

I don’t really need a jungle urban or otherwise. I have an office full of men. And, though we have more computers and accompanying paraphernalia than we could all use at one time, this is truly the wilderness. Workstations, laptops, file servers, speakers, printers, plotters, drafting tables…you name it, we’ve probably got it. Then there are all the disks…..blank, written on, music, movies, drivers. Documents, well logs, maps of every sort imaginable. Somewhere under all this paper is even a queen sized bed!!!

But what are the two wise men guffawing over this a.m? Microsoft “find and replace.” God himself only knows what sordid thing they have learned to do, but HEY!, it’s keeping them busy. There is a lot of merit to keeping Buddy and PaPa busy. Believe me.

Baba left about an hour ago to apply for a job. Yes, she’s 83…I know that. But the Senior Citizen’s Center has asked her to come out of retirement and teach exercise classes again. She agreed and so had to go officially apply. Not to be outdone, she decided to fall outside the Center when returning to her car. Came home with a giant goose egg on the back of her head and a gouge out of it. I just got finished mopping up the back of her head and cleaning the wound.

Got to LOVE Mondays!

Back to the office where the two wise men are hollering unintelligible strings of numbers back and forth (this usually means an upcoming mapping session). And here I sit, blogging to survive the insanity and staring at seismic on the computer wondering where the rest of the day will take us…hang on…keep reading!

The joy of starting a business is that there is never a finish. You are always starting it. So all those neat little goals that you have of finishing thus-and-such-a-task on thus-a-such-a-day and then feeling relieved or maybe just mildly happy no longer appeal to you as goals. They’re merely points at which you recognized just how much MORE you have to get done. I have been slaving for some time over a particular task, we’ll call it “A,” and finally announced not minutes ago that I had finished it. Not even a “yeah!” There was just one resounding immediate question to tamp down any feeling of accomplishment I could ever have had: “So, what else is left on project B that you could get done today?”

Wumph. Task A immediately scrapped as important in lieu of tasks B-infinity. YOU CAN NEVER DO ENOUGH! It makes accomplishment feel like a failure. Why on earth did I even mention it? Such a silly girl. Perhaps I should have held off on the whole thing and gone to Facebook and played on my much-neglected farm. What I SHOULD have done is put on my boots and hauled off into the woods. I’m still itchy enough to have a healthy respect (ok, paranoia) for what’s out there, though.

So, here I sit admittedly stewing in my own juices and thoroughly hating this particularly 3D seismic survey with an unbelievable passion.

So I took a nap!!!! It was lovely and then my ex called. Which was fine, just no longer the person I want to wake up to. Great news, though, Squash Blossom is coming home early! Tonight rather than Thursday. Apparently the ex Mr. Scat doesn’t relish the thought of waiting until Thursday to relinquish SqB. Ha! Gotta love that. He said (and I love to quote) “He won’t have had a nap, it’ll be late, and he’ll be pissy, but I'll get ‘im there.”

Just guessing that Sqb’s dad is a WEE BIT tired….hee hee. He couldn’t even be sarcastic about it. And for once I didn’t get the litany of days off from him. He’s wearing down. It’s getting to him. The four-year-old drama king has worked his magic and is trampling the earth in one wide swath from Radiator Springs on south to his dad’s house. Ha!

Poor widdle four-year-old. More power to him!!!!! That kid will own the world one day! It thrills my soul to hear his little matter-of-fact voice and authoritative manner cut through the day like a hot knife through butter. The little dictator will be with us for some time and I just love it. Every day you not only get to prepare and participate in everything he does, but you get the blow-by-blow afterward because he just loves to rehash the events THAT MUCH. And he doesn’t really breathe when he does this.

“Momma (huff) I loved breakfast because I really like cheerios and I got to (huff) have two whole bowls!!!!!! of them and then ONE piece of toast with butter and jelly and Papa fixed (huff) it for me and I ate-ed it on my stool at the counter and now I’m watching my favorite movie (not listed here because he has at least 20 favorites) and playing (huff) trains wanna come see? oh and I’m poopy.”

Gotta love that. Especially that last sentence.

Don’t even get me started on toilet training. Beanstalk is well on the way to toilet training. He pretty much is, he just gets interested in the day and it’s events. Typical stuff, but really he’s trained. SqB believes that toilet training is a diabolical terrorists’ plan to rob him of his very life. We have the regular toilet, the little ring to put on the regular toilet, a step stool, AND a little toddler-sized potty that even plays music when you do your thing—though I have not personally tested that one.

We’ve bribed him with candy, parties, toys, big-boy underwear, privileges, etc. He goes in the bathroom when we all go to see how it’s done. He loves to flush….but that is now something he must sit on the potty to get to do, so he could care less now. When he goes in his diaper he has to get his own diaper and wipes and rash cream and bring it to me. He’s also learned how to dispose of his own nuclear waste and all he has left to learn is how to wipe his own bottom and he’d be self-sufficient in the diaper department.
That’s just ludicrous! So I’ve quit asking him if he needs to go, or if he wants to sit on the potty ‘cause I already know the answer….. “N-O!”

I’ve backed down to my original theory. His high school girlfriend will eventually find out and relay the message to him that diapers on a 15 or 16 year old are very “uncool.” Grammi has told him unequivocally that he’s got to learn to change his own pants ‘cause she’s too tired of it. I’m all in there for that method as well. I just don’t want to be the one doing the changing. But I’d be SUPER happy if I didn’t have to pay for the diapers any more!!!!

And if you have any doubts that Squib arrived in rare form, well, doubt no more!! He fell asleep about five minutes into the trip and then woke straight up (it's his signature move) as he hit my driveway wanting something that was left at the ex's house. A sticker book this time. So he was non-linear by the time I made it out the door to the car. Poor little guy. Just beside himself. He let me hold him, but he was NOT to be consoled. Once ex left, we fit SqB into our regular routine and there he is, now in the bed talking to his stuffed Blue and flopping about and I expect that his day (and consequently mine) will end here in about 5 min.

Not mine, really, because, ya now, I lead a really exciting life (HA!), but when he sleeps, so does my last responsibility for the day and I can exhale and take it all in.

A Bang-Up Day!

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