Diary of a Provincial Lady

Book group was at my house today.  I read this book a couple of months ago and really enjoyed it.  Delafield was very witty and made me laugh.  If she had been a blogger, I would have eagerly checked her blog daily to see what she had to say.  As it is written in dairy format, I asked each participant to come with a diary entry on their own that we could share with each other.  I enjoyed what the other women wrote and sharing my own entry, a report of last Friday's activities.  Here is what I wrote:

Friday, 15 October

The day began too early for a couple of people.  Brandt woke at 5:30am with pee pee leakage and congestion.  Kent had to change sheets, get Brandt vitamin C laced orange juice, and help him fall back asleep.  Kent, unfortunately, did not.  When woke, felt somewhat guilty that Kent is parent Brandt always wants when he wakes during the night, and asked what time he (Kent) wanted to be in bed tonight, lights out and everything.

“10:30,” he replied.  “It’ll never happen.”  Could just sense a touch of sarcasm in his voice as though it is my fault we always get to bed late.  Probably is my fault, but always have much to do of an evening after children have gone to bed.  Will try not to resent the fact that Kent tends to spend evenings sitting on the couch reading newspaper and watching TV. 

After Kent went off to work, started a load of laundry, and then began the daily breakfast struggle.  (Query: Why is mealtime a constant battle?)  Filled cereal bowls, cut fruit, offered toast and scrambled egg and received in return whining and/or disappearing from the kitchen. 

Change in weather has necessitated new clothes for both children.  Out with the shorts, in with the long sleeves.  While Brandt and Blythe tore apart the living room playing train and going on adventures (Query: Why am I never invited?), emptied Blythe’s dresser and closet of summer clothing and restocked with new, cold weather togs.  Fall means a new outlay of cash for clothes the children will wear until it turns warm and will have to shop again.  Looking at own closet later in the day, promised self several new articles of clothing so would look less frumpy next to two-year old daughter.

Changed loads of laundry before jumping in shower and realized too late error when partway through, shower turned very hot as the rinse cycle began downstairs.  Put self together and encouraged children to get dressed so we could go to Costco.  More whining ensued.

Brandt announced, upon arrival at Costco, “I want a flatbed cart.”  Discussion followed about the need to remain on the car,t complete with a serious threat of strapping both children into regular cart if they leapt off flatbed cart.  Discussion proved valuable as both children remarkably well behaved.  Each took turns selecting needed items and tasting all samples on offer.  Delicious chicken pot pie for sale.  Unfortunately would need four additional children to have adequate number of people to finish said pot pie without having left-overs for three days.  Did not purchase in the end.  More whining when smoothie demanded by son was forgotten and line to purchase one proved too long.

Lunchtime struggle began shortly after return home.  Both children starving because of lack of smoothie, but would not sit still long enough to eat turkey lurkey sandwich and apple lovingly prepared by self.  Put Blythe down for her nap while Brandt watched TV upstairs.  Changed laundry yet again (large pile to be folded accumulating on the couch upstairs) and began cleaning out bathroom linen closet and medicine cabinets.  Emptied everything creating a large mess, wiped down shelves, then sorted contents.  (Query: How many pilfered miniature bottles of hotel shampoo does one family need?  Answer: None.)  Am now hoping that two-year old daughter will stay out of cabinets so newly neatly arranged contents will remain neatly arranged.

Changed another load of laundry.

After having sorted out the closets yesterday, discovered we must own 1,362 hangers, only slightly more than we actually need.  Metal hangers followed miniature shampoo bottled into trash.  Do love a good purge.

Blythe awoke and together she, Brandt, and self watched two episodes of Phineas and Ferb.  Can this be considered a guilty pleasure?  Think not, funny as it is.  Felt it necessary to get out in the sun and after much whining (can you sense a pattern in the day?), managed to get socks and shoes on children’s feet and get them out the door.  Played “Tag, you’re it!” with Brandt while Blythe trimmed bushes with Play Doh scissors.  Or tried rather. 

While outside, suggested walk around the block.  Brandt rode his bike, and Blythe her trike.  Brandt pushed his bike all the way up the hill inside the complex far outstripping self and Blythe who did not want any help from me.  Once Brandt got to the top of the hill, spent the remainder of our pleasant walk yelling at him to wait while plodding along next to Blythe who said, “No help, Mom.  I do it.” 

Dinner preparations began following a change in laundry.  Tonight was G food dinner: gnocchi with gorgonzola sauce; greens with Granny Smith apples, green pepper, garbanzo beans, and Gouda cheese; green beans; grapes; garlic bread; and grape juice.  When giving Kent a tantalizing preview of the menu last night, he said, “Our children are only four and two.  Are you overdoing it?  Is it worth it?”  Considering the end result, maybe not.  Was unable to find prepared gnocchi and when finally decided could just make my own, consulted a recipe to find needed to bake potatoes for one hour.  This discovery made at 5:23pm—too late for potatoes.  Rather than actual gnocchi, improvised with shell pasta which is about the same size and shape as gnocchi, still topped with gorgonzola sauce.  Distinctly grey tinge to sauce; not wonderful, will not make again.

Dinner struggle commenced.  Brandt ate no greens, Blythe only the garbanzo beans.  More time spent on the floor than in chairs, and the grape juice was the star of the show.  Perhaps am overdoing it.

While cleaned the kitchen, the children retired with Kent to the bathroom for a tub.  Changed over and began another load of laundry.  When wet, naked bodies were finally bejamed, graciously left kitchen to read stories.  Brandt caught me putting vitamin C in his orange juice (in an effort to combat the cold), and accused, “You are stupid Katherine.  Dad is nice Dad.”  With that, efforts with the children over for the evening.  All done! 

Finished cleaning kitchen in time for prayers.  Gave in and rocked Blythe while singing Primary songs.  After leaving her, went upstairs to begin the “big fold.”  Did indulge in guilty pleasure of watching Burn Notice without feeling one bit guilty (thus rendering the watching a mere pleasure).  Finished enormous pile of folding as program came to an end. 

Time now 9:46pm.  Quickly put clothes away, brushed and flossed, got in own jammies.  Checked on Blythe and put last load of laundry for the day in the dryer.  Found 39 cents at the bottom of the washer.  Hardly felt like adequate reward for hard day’s labor.  Actually in bed by 10:03 when could begin diary entry.  Kent at last ready for bed, prayers, and scripture reading at 10:26.  Felt smug sense of superiority that ready and waiting for him after morning’s snide comment. 

Following prayers and scriptures, turn off light at 10:37.  Kent says, “You aren’t going to read a chapter of Bertie (current book we are reading out loud together)?”  Feels Bertie deserves attention of at least one chapter, despite lateness of hour.  I oblige.  Lights out for good at 10:47pm.  Exhausted but generally pleased with day’s accomplishment.  Two additional loads of laundry await tomorrow.