Wednesday, October 15, 2014

That TIme I Vacuumed Under the Mattress at 11pm

Jon and Winston fell asleep on the couch. Winston got some not-great news today at the cardiologist, so I took advantage and went upstairs for a couple minutes of being alone. I lounged and read a little bit, but when I went to fluff my pillow, something moved. I wiggled the pillow again and It scuttled behind the bed.

It was a roach.

I hate roaches.

You guys, I might have a messy house in this three-kids-and-one-is-a-newborn stage, but I am NOT roach-dirty. And It was on my pillow. MY PILLOW! This is what happens when it's almost cold enough for closed windows, but not quite, and Nate learns to slide the screens up and down. Naturally, they never get slid back down all the way.

I hate roaches.

I tried to consider forgetting I had seen It, but that's ridiculous. Some things cannot be unseen. I found It hiding in between the bed frame and the mattress, so, considering my bookshelf, I picked a book that was just thin enough. It was a Bible study on the book of Daniel. You guys, I was going to KILL this spawn of satan with THE BIBLE. I needed a win today and this was it. I aimed and JAMMED God's holy word down the crevice.

Only, the book got stuck and It got away.

So I stomped downstairs, grabbed the vacuum,  hollered to Jon that there was a roach in our bed ("What? A roach? IN our bed?"... snore...), and clomped back up to take the entire bed apart. I contemplated how my husband had failed me as I pulled off the mattress and the box spring. I moved Winston's bassinet into the other room. "You have TWO JOBS, Butterfield. Paint the high spots on the walls and save me from roaches. That's ALL... nothing more do I ask of you..." I vacuumed crevices and hollows. At one point, I heard something go into the vacuum that I hadn't seen. Clearly it was the roach. I continued vacuuming to be sure. I sucked out under the nightstands and the rug, in the corners and behind the headboard. I told God that a partial win didn't count, because I didn't SEE the roach go into the vacuum, so I wasn't safe or satisfied. Maybe I could switch beds with one of the kids for the night.

I turned the vacuum off, wound the cord, replaced all the bed parts, and went to grab Winston's bassinet to put the room back together.

From the middle of the dark room, the roach winked at me. He was large and quite blatantly evil. I stared back. One more chance at that win. I grabbed a photo album and slammed it's full weight down on top of the roach, positive that I'd gotten It. It was so cathartic, that slamming. I even (not kidding) jumped up and down on the album to make sure he was good and dead. Then, I stood back, contemplating the book. What if it wasn't dead. What if (HORROR) I moved the book and something scuttled?

I moved the book.

It scuttled and I screamed, but stifled it. There is no crying in a holy war.

I was about to grab Jon's mandolin to crush it, but, thankfully for Jon, the spawn of satan scuttled away. I located it and tried to jab it with the vacuum, which was now plugged in and engaged like a heat-seeking missile. I missed. It ran. I cornered it again and, this time...

This time I sucked up that disgusting excuse for biodiversity and I watched It's hopes and dreams shrivel and die. I expected a rush of relief, but I was sure it wasn't actually dead... and now it was in my vacuum...

Now what? I left the vacuum running, so that it couldn't crawl out, but that wasn't much of a long term solution. I can't really go buying a new vacuum every time I suck up a bug, either. Therefore, I did the only rational thing. I threw the vacuum onto the front porch and informed my now-awake husband that he needed to change the bag -outside- before coming to bed.

And do you know what? He lived up to his purpose.

I love him.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Lest I Forget

My mom keeps warning me that if I don't write things down, I'll forget. She's right, of course, so amusing to people who aren't Nathan's parents or not, here it is.

We don't normally allow Nathan to stay up late enough to watch the beginning of Dancing With the Stars, but I'm not really going to defend myself on that or anything else below. If you have the time to judge, then I won't begrudge you something to do. In fact, my life would probably keep you very busy, so read on.

But late it was and he was awake and Dancing With the Stars came on. Before I shuffled him off to bed, we watched one routine, where the scantily-clad pro led whatever star she was escorting around the dance floor. Nathan stared in wide-eyed wonder and pronounced, "Mommy! I want to dream about HER tonight!"
He's three. Lord help me, I don't even know what to say to that.


The kids don't listen to a lot of kid music. I just can't take most of it. I mean, we'll sing "Twinkle Twinkle" once every month or so. They Might Be Giants has a great album called "Here Comes Science" that we like, and sometimes I remember to TRY to be age appropriate, but in general, he just listens to whatever we listen to. His current favorite songs, in order, are below:

1. She is Beautiful
2. TNT (by AC/DC)
3. Jake and the Neverland Pirates theme song (SCORE! A real kid's song!)
4. Rumour Has It
5. Anything by Louis Armstrong (Another score, because Louis is always appropriate)

Anyway. He was requesting "She is Beautiful" the other day, so we listened to it. The music video is kinda weird for a three year old, so we only ever listen, instead of watch it. Plus Andrew W. K. sticks the mic in the waistband of his jeans to make a smoothie in the middle of the video and, let's face it, Nate doesn't need any encouragement to hide things in his pants. It's already an issue in our house. Regardless, it's a good song. It's sort of how I imagine Nate will sing a love song when he's older. Super intense and full of yelling. He may never get a girlfriend, but he'll have fun trying. As the song ended, Nate informed me that when he grows up, he wants to be "Andrew double-K" (Andrew W.K.).

Ooops. We're forming role models. Time to listen to Bach. The early eighteenth century was pretty appropriate.


Coffee is an acquired taste, true. But the time it takes to acquire a taste is variable. Nathan's average is once. One sip. When he was little, he chewed on the rim of beer bottles and, therefore, Jon let him have a tiny sip (judge away, ye judgers), with the idea that, since beer is bitter, he'd stop wanting to chew on the rim if it tasted bad. Instead, he licked his lips and lunged for more. Fail. Same with coffee, which, despite his desire, he has been banned from drinking.

He ran into the room the other day from the kitchen, with a full mouth. I asked him what he was drinking and he smiled (awkwardly, because his mouth was full) with an evil twinkle in his eye. Daddy's iced coffee is what he'd been drinking. When asked why (NOTE: the only real "why" question to ask is why on earth parents of preschoolers think asking them "why" is going to come to a logical end), he answered that it was because he wanted hair on his chest and belly, like daddy... and mommy. Say WHAT?!

I set him straight. OH. I set him straight.


Some children have trouble paying attention for an entire two minutes. That's why things like this happen:

Driving home from Bible study, I asked Nathan what he learned in his class.

"God died."
"Oh... you mean Jesus died on the cross? Yeah, He did. Then what happened?"
"Oh, then we had a CRAFT!"
"Uh, yeah, but then what happened in the story? After Jesus died?"

He didn't know. He didn't pay attention that far in. There were goldfish crackers to eat. So I enlightened him and emphasized to Nietzsche Jr. that God isn't dead, he rose again and is alive and that's why we can pray to Him, etc.

The next week, when he got into the car, I asked what he'd learned and it started much the same, "Jesus died."
"Then what happened?"
"His friends couldn't find Him and some mans pushed the big rock away."
Oh! This is pretty accurate! I got excited, "Yes! His friends couldn't find Him and the angels pushed the rock away from the tomb. Why couldn't they find Him?"
"Because His stomach was missing. Somebody took His stomach and nobody could find it."

Try as I might, Nathan still never caught the end of the story, so I re-enlightened him. 

Boy, is he going to be surprised at Easter.