Scott mentioned offhandedly last night that he has Monday off. I am SO EXCITED, you guys. I don't know why, but days off just seem like the best thing ever now that I'm all grown up and stuff. (Probably because they're scarcer.) He was also nice enough to point out that stores might be closed on Labor Day so I might not want to schedule my shopping trip then. He was right, Aldi is closed, so we are going to have a romantic grocery shopping date tomorrow.
Scott and I had a "discussion" about chores last Saturday (and by "discussion" I mean "I said things and Scott agreed with them"). We came to the conclusion that he gets weeknights "off" because he works all day while I stay home and take naps, so I shouldn't feel it's unfair that I then have to make dinner while he zones out at his laptop.
However, I still have my whole normal workload on Saturdays, while he has nothing to do but play videogames and write brilliant philosophical treatises or whatever it is he does when he's typing away in the evenings. So I figure it's only fair that he does chores. Plus, there are certain things he needs to do/help with anyway, and if he does them on Saturdays then he guarantees himself nag-free weeknights.
(Sundays, I do just enough dishes to keep them from overrunning the apartment and eating us alive. I have already pretty much trained myself not to nag on Sundays, other than all the nagging I do about how we're going to be laaaate and how can it take so loooong to get ready for church?)
Please note that I am not making him work like a Dickensian orphan or anything, either. This past Saturday he took out the trash (which I had already bagged up and placed by the front door), finished assembling the nightstand (which I couldn't do because the last step took some upper body strength and I have the upper body strength of an abalone) (I have a real nightstand now, yay!), and did some dishes (he scrubbed out a couple of muffin tins that needed scrubbing before they could be put in the dishwasher--and somehow managed to cut his thumb and expected me to be sympathetic, which I wasn't really--please note he did not even have to load the dishwasher; he just had to pre-scrub some dishes). Three things. Because you can never go wrong with threes.
He also made dinner, with a little help, but that doesn't count because he did that autonomously. (I put beef on the stove to brown for stroganoff, and he was apparently very concerned that I was going to burn it like I did last time because he went into the kitchen and started stirring the beef and such. I must be becoming less of a control freak, because I totally let him take over instead of getting offended. Less work for me!)
Anyway, there have not been enough weekends to determine whether this is effective in keeping us both from feeling overwhelmed. So far my only take on the system is that it is really hard to not nag on weeknights. I really like to nag.
You'd never know that Matthew couldn't crawl 9 days ago. Reports on Facebook indicate that he is fast and into everything. I got to see him in action over Skype the other day. He's not content to sit still any more (though a month ago sitting up unassisted was the coolest thing ever); as soon as he hits the floor he's moving, usually making a beeline for the wires under the computer desk. (Mom obviously discourages this.)
This week's milestone was reportedly learning how to wave bye-bye, which he did three times yesterday. Apparently Thursdays are Matthew's "Hit a new milestone" days.
I demand partial credit for the waving; I read somewhere a while back that babies his age are supposed to know how to wave, so I started making a point of waving goodbye every time it was appropriate. I obviously primed his little brain for the developmental leap which he made when Dad left after his lunch break yesterday.
(Related: When Teresa was about 2, she was evaluated by the county for one reason or another and the evaluator noted that she should be able to stack blocks at her age. So Dad tutored her in block-stacking until she got it.)
There are at least two different topics I wish I could complain/vent about here, but I'm not nearly anonymous enough for either of them. I think that's one reason I complain about my poor husband so much; it's a relatively consequence-free way of redirecting all my whinyness. I mean, if I do it enough you all will think I'm a complete shrew, but Scott knows I'm only about 3/4 shrew and his is the only opinion that matters.
I wish more of my friends were on Skype regularly. I hate calling people up "just to chat" (i.e. to use them as free therapy) and Mari (the only other person who's on Skype every day) is sick of hearing about at least one of the unbloggable topics. She's probably sick of hearing about the other one too.
And no, I'm not doing paid therapy again. Really, nobody wins when I try to treat social anxiety by TALKING TO A STRANGER.
(I know, therapy is effective and helpful and all that. The cost/benefit analysis just doesn't work for me right now, so I cope with my mental health issues by making inappropriate jokes..)
I wish I had some kind of website or program to use to design and decorate houses. I have an easier time writing my novels if I can picture the place in which my characters live (otherwise the bedroom will be on the left side of the hallway one day and the right on the other), plus I just enjoy playing architect and interior designer for a day. But The Sims 2 is the only thing I have that can make 3-D houses and its ability to create realistic spaces is limited.
I am hoping somebody takes pity on me and suggests something. Last time I posted something like this I discovered MyHeritage family tree software, which has been exceedingly useful in creating totally fictional family trees. (Thanks, Melanie!).
About a month ago Mom brought me a box of random stuff. I need to do a longer post with all of the awesome stuff I've been unearthing, but here's my favorite. This is part of a story that I wrote when I was probably 8 years old. My favorite thing about this story is definitely the fact that I included deliberate spelling/capitalization/etc. errors in the composition by "Meg", because of course it's completely unrealistic that an 8-year-old would have a firm grasp of written English. ;)