So why the heck do I bother with a garden if it means I don’t get the fruits of my husband’s labor? He worked very hard to grow such a nice garden and, sure I got some tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, corn and eggplant out of the deal, but why no squash?
At first I thought that perhaps the squash that he had been bragging about must not have been put in the right place, namely my basement, and perhaps they were still in the garage. Then I checked around and they were nowhere to be found, but on a visit to my mother-in-law’s house, I spied them by her kitchen door.
While I so kindly offered the complete summer months of my support, offered no cost supervision, and bought ten tomato stands at considerable expense, I apparently am not getting any squash. (Perhaps if I had actually helped in the garden I might have rated some squash?)
When the kids were home, I would make them weed, hoe and water the garden as part of their daily chores. It was hard work too, getting them to do physical labor in the hot summer sun, so I definitely did my part back then. But, now that they are gone, it’s come down to doing it myself with so many things. It just doesn’t seem right. I miss them AND I get extra work? Where’s the payoff?
Well, they tell me they will be cleaning my house and helping with the Thanksgiving meal so perhaps I might see something deposited in my empty nest account this week.
I am off the the store to get some squash for Thanksgiving. I guess I pay for it one way or another.
“A man’s children and his garden both reflect the amount of weeding done during the growing season.” ~ unknown
Where has all the free time gone? It’s Friday of the week off and it’s time to check in to see what got done.
I got nothing done. I am way behind because having kids at home when you are supposed to be working is counterproductive.
My son did clean his bedroom because another kid was coming to sleepover before this youth convention they were both going to. Since this Monday, it has returned to its former state. To say my son is a sentimental slob would be an understatement. This kid keeps the plastic wrappers on items for mementos and actually has a Tupperware container of receipts for fast food he’s gotten when out with friends. I think he will grow up to be one of those people that ends up with a house that is so cluttered that there is only a pathway to the refrigerator, the bed and the bathroom that is clear of crap and he will go on Oprah for help. The learned psychiatrist on the program will probably say it’s his mother’s fault.
I did order a book on time management and I hope they have a chapter about cleaning your work area that includes your children. My guess is that there will not be so I will probably have to write that one myself.
The girls both got sick – really sick – so they got nothing done. The one is better now and went back to her normal routine today. The other child is asleep on the couch, which she hasn’t been able to get off of for about 4 days now. She is my organized one and is slowly curdling inside because she has been too sick to get her work done and is “way, way behind”. Needless to say, I am a bit curdled too because I am also behind and I am worried about her as she is one step away from pneumonia.
The weather today is very windy and snowy and below zero. The power has gone out once today due to the wind. With this in mind, my sick-o is arguing with me about driving back to college today because she is sweating about her assignments. I am picturing her crying because she is sick and has gotten lost in the sub-zero weather. No, wait. That was her 4 days ago when she drove here as sick as a dog. Thank God for Google maps and cell phones. I am getting that kid a Garmin for her graduation present.
So it hasn’t been a very productive week, but it has reinforced my strong belief that older children should get summer jobs, full-time jobs. If not, they become them.
“In the depths of winter I finally learned there was in me an invincible summer.” ~ Albert Camus
I don’t know what the problem is. The kid just can’t find a job and he has been trying so hard. We have been everywhere and he is clean, polite and persistent.
He was a bit frustrated, but now is very frustrated as his two friends got summer jobs and didn’t even try. Both friends had a mom who knew someone, so they didn’t even fill out one job application or go inside one store and ask if they were hiring. I guess I have failed as a mom because I don’t know any such people – just another item to add to my listÂ of shortcomings. With thatÂ said, I feelÂ pretty good.
Why? Because of this note I got when I came home yesterday to find a very clean kitchen and newly vacuumed rugs.
Note he spelled “bearer” wrong – barer. I assureÂ youÂ thatÂ I did not bare myselfÂ toÂ anyoneÂ in any inappropriate way. (Perhaps we can work on spelling this summer?)
While he can’t find work, this might work out for me.
â€œPsychiatry enables us to correct our faults by confessing our parents’ shortcomings.â€ ~ Dr. Lawrence J. Peter