And tomorrow, hopefully, will be incrementally better than today . . . .
With help from both kids, we unpacked a decent number of boxes yesterday, after Mom went into the office for awhile and attempted to work. (Dad, apparently, took a well-deserved face plant into his pillow while Mom was gone. Well-deserved, but ill-timed in one respect; see below.)
After a couple of hours of unpacking, Mom hit a wall and declared that it was time for a family game break. Cranium Super Showdown was unanimously selected as the game of choice. By "unanimously selected," I mean "Cranium Super Showdown was the first game to be unpacked from a box."
We played the game - Dad included. Mom was judge and referee. It was fun, and I think that both the break and the family time were appreciated by all.
Then we played charades for awhile - and then Mom proclaimed that it was time to take a face-plant of her own. Dad shooed the kids out of the master bedroom (we played on the bed, because that was the only reasonably spacious continuous seating surface available) and managed to:
(1) Locate - and actually reach - the TV/VCR combo that used to be C's but is soon to be PJ's (maybe - he is lobbying for a satellite hookup, and the TV/VCR, which was a hand-me-down from a neighbor, plays VCR tapes and can be hooked up to a DVD, but it doesn't receive TV broadcasts).
(2) Set up the TV/VCR, and a DVD player, in a location that both boys could view from C's bunk beds.
Full harmony was restored. Evidently, while Mom snored away (and I'm quite sure that snoring was involved, although Dad was too polite to say anything), they watched Justice League and Men in Black.
Everyone woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (well, relatively so). After nine-plus hours of sleep, Mom actually deemed herself competent to operate a motor vehicle and set out to get herself ready for an early-morning meeting with a potential client.
I managed to find a blouse, skirt and shoes that all matched, plus appropriate undergarments. I even found earrings. So far, so good.
Because of Dad's hibernation on Monday, the plumber didn't get called to be reminded that he needed to turn the hot water back on. No problem - I don't know much about the new old house, but I have figured out how to operate the microwave. And, also, an Igloo beverage dispenser (like a Thermos on steroids?) was one of the first things to be unpacked. I boiled water and transferred it to the Igloo until it was full. Just like the pioneers did - or would have done, if they had microwaves and Igloo products.
I went into the boys' bathroom, intending to shave my legs in tepid water.
Problem #1: Um, where's my razor? No idea. Spouse ran up to the corner Walgreens and bought me a package of disposables.
I shaved my legs in tepid water, and then I bit the bullet and turned on the (cold) shower so that I could wash my hair.
Problem #2: Um, where's the shampoo and conditioner? Spouse packed it. Spouse had a hard time locating it and seriously considered another Walgreens run.
Problem #3: While Spouse was searching for hair care products, the pipes in the boys' bathroom started making a horrible groaning sound. The kind of sound that does not sit well with someone who just spent ten months out of her house due to a broken pipe.
Me: HELL TO THE NO!!!!!
Spouse (running around the corner with shampoo and conditioner in hand): Maybe you have it set on hot. Maybe there's air in the pipes. Make sure that you have it set on cold.
I adjusted the settings. Groaning stopped, and I sudsed up my hair.
Problem #4: Water slowed to a trickle. What the WHAT? Admittedly, user error may have been part of the problem. The water controls are space-age, and I have not yet received a tutorial.
But in the meantime I had a sudsy cranium.
Me: Get the litter box out of our bathtub, 'cause I'm coming in!
(The litter box is temporarily in our bathroom, on account of the fact that we can't access the space where the litter box would normally go.)
Spouse moved litter box. I dripped a path of soapy water onto my new wood floors. I turned on the water - at least THAT shower worked fine.
Except . . . .
Problem #4: Shower curtain is in a box. I elected not to hang it, because I didn't want it to smell all litter-box-y.
Think, Kathryn, think. Eureka: ridiculously deep kitchen sink with pull-out sprayer. I ran into the kitchen, clutching a towel around me. I let go of the towel so that I could use two hands to wash my hair.
And then I remembered that we have not reinstalled the kitchen blinds, and that there are contractors outside building a frame for our next-door neighbors' home addition.
Me: P, I NEED YOU TO HOLD MY TOWEL FOR ME!
Spouse stood behind me and held my towel closed while I bent over the sink. A friend pointed out that, if the workmen were watching, this set-up might have been far more titillating than if I'd just given them the full Monty. Point taken. Oh-so-happy to entertain.
I decided to dispense with conditioner, on account of how it was several rooms away, and I was now pushing the outside time for me to leave the house and make my meeting. I also decided to let my hair air-dry en route to the office. If I put it in a ponytail, it wouldn't look that bad, right?
Problem #5: I own, roughly, 200 hair elastics. None of them were immediately accessible. Not even one stinkin' elastic in my purse, or in my car cup holder.
I pulled into the downtown Walgreens (not the friendly and oh-so-convenient corner Walgreens, but the one that I hate, because I'm fairly sure that I narrowly avoided a carjacking there once) eight minutes before my meeting, grabbed a package of hair elastics, some avocado oil leave-in spray to apply to my frizzy ends and another glossing product that looked reasonably helpful and was conveniently located next to the avocado oil. I primped in the car. No one tried to carjack me. And I got to the office with a minute to spare.
Like I said, today has been better than yesterday.