Tragic Sandwich

Tag: laundry

  • A Day in the Life

    Here’s a thing to know as you’re picturing this: Baguette needs me to sleep with her. We are working on it. But it is hard, because I am tired.

    Clocks

    04:30
    Wake up. No reason. Try to go back to sleep. Probably fail.

    05:30
    Hear Mr. Sandwich feed the dogs.

    05:40
    Mr. Sandwich comes into the room to say goodbye to me and Baguette (who is still asleep). Get up.

    05:41
    Brush teeth, etc.

    05:50
    Go to back patio, take laundry out of washing machine, hang to dry and/or put in dryer. Bag any dog poop. Toss bag over gate so that it is near trash can.

    06:00
    Wash hands. Fix the fresh parts of Baguette’s lunch, such as berries or yogurt. Wash some dishes.

    06:10
    Wake up Baguette, get her to move to the sofa, make her breakfast (macaroni and cheese).

    06:15
    Get Baguette to move to the kitchen table. Make tea. Wash a few more dishes.

    06:20
    Stir macaroni and cheese in bowl to make it look more appealing.

    06:30
    Hand-feed Baguette, who is able to eat independently, but many mornings is simply too tired. Hopefully she will muster the energy to eat on her own after a few bites. Give her iPad or coloring materials if she asks. Drink tea.

    06:45
    Get Baguette to move to the bathroom. Put lunch in her backpack.

    06:50
    Check weather and lay out Baguette’s clothes for the day.

    07:00
    Supervise hand-washing and tooth-brushing. Brush hair. Let her play on the iPad or color.

    07:15
    Make sure Baguette gets dressed, to shoes. Let her play on the iPad or color.

    07:20
    Get slightly more dressed than pajamas. Start another load of laundry in washer. Get laundry out of dryer and bring inside.

    07:25
    Open blinds to see when bus arrives.

    07:33
    Bus arrives. Get Baguette to put down the iPad and walk out the front door. Walk Baguette down driveway to bus and hand backpack to driver. Pick up bag of dog poop and put in trash can.

    07:35
    Bus departs. Go back inside. Wash hands. Check work schedule and emails.

    07:40
    Fold laundry and put away, or at least put in correct bedroom. Finish getting dressed. Maybe eat breakfast. Maybe not.

    07:50
    Apply lipstick. Turn off lights. Start dishwasher (delay start because washing machine is already running). Wonder if there is time to clean kitchen floor. There is not. Ignore papers and markers everywhere.

    07:55
    Make sure everything that needs to be locked is locked, stove is off, microwave and refrigerator are shut, cabinets are latched, dog gate is closed.

    07:58
    Set alarm, exit house, lock door.

    08:00
    Get in car. Get out of car. Confirm that door is locked. It is. Get back into car. Check Google Map routing.

    08:10
    Call Mr. Sandwich and tell him how morning went, and how Baguette’s mood was.

    09:00
    Arrive at work parking lot. Walk to office building.

    09:10
    Turn on computer. Work.

    17:00
    Shut down computer, put phone in bag, walk to parking lot.

    18:00
    Arrive at home.

    18:05
    Put down bags and keys, greet Mr. Sandwich and Baguette.

    18:15
    Prepare dinner.

    18:35
    Put dishes in sink.

    18:40
    Make macaroni and cheese for Baguette, which she may or may not eat.

    18:45
    Move laundry in washing machine to dryer, start dryer.

    18:50
    Tell Baguette that in 10 minutes, it will be time for an iPad break.

    19:00
    Do some homework with Baguette.

    19:20
    Let Baguette have iPad again.

    19:40
    Give Baguette 5-minute warning on bath.

    19:45
    Tell Baguette that, yes, her idea of going to the bathroom now is a good one.

    19:47
    Unpack Baguette’s lunch bag.

    19:50
    Plug in iPad, get Baguette into bath, wash hair, condition hair, let her sit in the tub, rinse.

    20:05
    Help Baguette dry off (but not her hair–NOT HER HAIR) and move to bed.

    20:10
    Give iPad back to Baguette.

    20:12
    Sort laundry.

    20:15
    Put load of laundry in washing machine. Pack non-perishable portions of Baguette’s lunch. Wash some dishes.

    20:25
    Persuade Baguette to come to kitchen and have ice cream, which she may or may not eat.

    20:30
    Remove laundry from dryer. Take clothes off of line and tumble for a few minutes. Remove that laundry from dryer. Fold laundry.

    20:50
    Heat up rice packs in microwave and put in bed.

    21:00
    Clean up dessert dishes.

    21:05
    Get Baguette dressed for bed, comb hair.

    21:15
    Get Baguette into bed. Read aloud.

    21:45
    Turn off lights, hopefully sleep.

    Photo by Giallo, via Flickr. Public domain.

  • Our New Normal (For Now)

    “Normal” is open to interpretation. That’s true for every family, but I’ve really come to understand the concept better since Baguette’s autism diagnosis. Actually, I knew it before her diagnosis–but that’s what made it okay for me to say openly that my normal is different from the normal you experience. Or you. Or that person over there.

    I came across a post about what “normal” means for one family dealing with ADHD, and it got me to thinking about what is normal for us.

    1) The house is always messy. Between work, commute, and ABA, we do not have time to clean. Mr. Sandwich does the laundry and I do the dishes, but the rest of the place is profoundly cluttered.

    2) No “me” time. This isn’t exactly true. I get my hair colored and cut every six weeks, and about as often I get a massage. Mr. Sandwich has a (sometimes) regular Sunday morning bike ride. But with Baguette’s long-standing distaste for sleep, I can’t even read a magazine in one sitting. Recently, it took me three weeks to finish streaming a movie. We have literally years of “Castle” in our DVR–or at least we did until we gave up and deleted them, with plans to buy the DVDs at some point in the future.

    3) There’s an awful lot of screaming. Baguette is frustrated by her inability to communicate. She’s also frustrated by the incessant demands of her ABA schedule. And sometimes the only way she can express that is to rage and rage and rage. As far as I’ve been able to figure it out, the only thing I can do is be there with her, as calmly as possible, and let the rage burn itself out. Friday was one of those days. After at least an hour of crying and screaming, she wore herself out until she was able to say, “I want carry me,” and I stood there with my arms around her, rocking her back and forth for at least 15 minutes. Then we sat down on the couch, and I held her on my lap until she slid down on the floor, still with her shoulder against my leg. I didn’t move until she did, because when she moved away, that meant she was feeling better. (Sorry, neighbors. This is just how it is.)

    4) There’s probably a #4, but I’m too tired to come up with it.

    5) The surprises never end. Baguette loves the water. She’s been teaching herself ASL–and now she’s teaching me, too. Lately she tells me she wants to play with her by saying, “Come along, Mommy,” and I have no idea where that phrase came from.

    All of this will change with time. And that’s normal, too.

  • Why My House is Messy

    I know my house is messy. I’m not a good housekeeper. I never have been, and neither was my mother. I know she would have recognized herself in Claire McCarthy’s Huffington Post piece.* Also, there’s this.

    I do want my house to be clean. It’s so much more peaceful and comfortable when it is. Mr. Sandwich and I agree on this (For the record, if you come over to our house? He’s the one who cleaned it for you.) And we really want to have people over, but we’d feel so much better about it if we were more orderly.

    messy kitchen table
    This is our kitchen table after Mr. Sandwich has taken some stuff off of it.

    And, honestly, “orderly” is key here. We have too much stuff, and we have no organization system. But there aren’t dirty dishes lying around (seriously, I feel like I am always washing dishes), and the laundry is either clean or in the hamper (Mr. Sandwich is always doing laundry). We’re neither hoarders nor a hotbed of disease.

    So is your house clean? I’d probably love being there. But if it’s a mess, I’m probably cool with that, too. Because I’m not visiting you for your house, I’m visiting you because it’s fun. So if I’m not judging you, why am I judging myself? You can schedule a consultation for low maintenance draperies or in-home covering from rescomdesigns.com.

    *That Dutch saying quoted in the comments? Yeah, the Dutch are a nation of people who leave their curtains open so you can peer in their windows and see how clean their houses are. My mother-in-law is Dutch. She’s the loveliest person, and yet she still can’t hide that my housekeeping pains her.

  • Grown-Up Day

    Mr. Sandwich and I both work for a state organization, which means that we get today off in honor of Cesar Chavez Day. Baguette’s day care, on the other hand, is open.

    Most of the time, if work is closed, so is day care. So that means that today is the only day when it’s just the two of us.

    Grown-Up Day!

    I woke up slightly later than usual, but still got Baguette to day care on time. And then I came back and slept until 9:30. Because I could.

    Mr. Sandwich did some much-needed car repair, changing the brakes on one of our cars. I filed our taxes, although as usual I had trouble finding one document. (Irony? It was right in front of me the whole time, behind some related paperwork in a folder. It was like it was The Purloined Tax Document.)

    I’m straightening up the kitchen in preparation for Easter dinner with Mr. Sandwich’s parents–there’s cooking to be done–and the hard-cooked eggs are ready for coloring (that, too, will be us, since Baguette’s not quite ready for that). We’re folding a lot of laundry.

    And we get to watch TV that we can’t watch with Baguette.

    I’m already looking forward to picking her up.

  • Why Our House Is a Disaster – Weekday Edition

    caution tape

    We’re refinancing, and on a recent Friday, we had a visit from an appraiser. The house was not even remotely clean, although I did set my alarm for 5 a.m. so that I’d have time to at least straighten up the living room (read: put things in stacks). Instead, I was so exhausted that I just kept hitting the snooze button. Sorry, appraiser.

    Mr. Sandwich and I are constantly evaluating the way we spend our time, particularly on weeknights, so that we can finish everything we need to and be ready for the next morning, while still getting Baguette to bed. What does that look like right now?

    5:30 a.m.
    Get up, wash face and brush teeth, unload dishwasher, wash any dishes in sink and put in drain rack to dry, give dog her medicine, open dog door, take one egg out of the refrigerator, put skillet on burner (which is not yet turned on). If it’s a day when we send lunch for Baguette, prep thermos with hot water.

    5:48 a.m.
    Finish bathroom routine. Shower if I’m lucky.

    5:53 a.m.
    Go back to bed to keep Baguette from rolling out; Mr. Sandwich gets up, gets dressed, and leaves for work.

    6:20 a.m.
    Get up, counting on Baguette to not roll out; get dressed, pull her pre-selected clothes/socks/shoes off of the shelf, get diaper and wipes and put them with her clothes, scramble and cook egg, heat up food to go in thermos, put egg in portable container, put food in thermos, assemble her lunch bag, put her breakfast in her tote bag along with anything else needed that day (set out the night before). Put yogurt and granola in my lunch bag if set up the night before; otherwise plan to buy breakfast at work. Feed dog. Make sure back door is locked, cabinets are latched, stove is off, and refrigator is closed.

    6:40 a.m.
    Unplug anything that has been charging overnight and put in handbag. Go back to bedroom and change Baguette’s diaper. Put her pajamas in the hamper and dress her for the day. Comb her hair. After she lies back down, sit her up and comb her hair again.

    6:50 a.m.
    Make Baguette stand up and walk to front door. Pet dog goodbye. Pick up bags, lock door, coax Baguette down steps, put her and bags in car.

    6:55 a.m.
    Arrive at day care. Get Baguette and her bags out of car, sign her in, drop off tuition or hot lunch money or other paperwork as needed, and walk her to classroom.

    7:02 a.m. If I’m lucky.
    Leave day care. Drive to bus stop. Park car, run across street, hope to catch bus. If I do, hope to get seat. If I don’t, drive to work. It’s an hour either way.

    8:05 a.m.
    Enter building. Buy breakfast and coffee, or just coffee if I managed to pack my own breakfast (lunch is even less likely). Go upstairs and work.

    5:00 p.m. Unless I have to work late.
    Leave building. Walk to bus stop. Catch bus home.*

    6:00 p.m. Unless traffic is worse than usual.
    Exit bus. Get in car and drive home.

    6:07 p.m.
    Arrive home. Pet dog hello. Change clothes. Put away any dishes in drain rack. Pour milk into straw cups for evening and next day.

    6:12 p.m.
    Mr. Sandwich brings Baguette home. Feed Baguette as much fruit and/or Goldfish as she will eat.

    6:25 p.m.
    Take Baguette and dog for walk around the block (1/2-mile distance). Discuss day. Encourage Baguette to walk, but carry her for intermittent stretches. Let her run back and forth when the impulse strikes her.

    7:10 p.m.
    Return home. Pull together some semblance of dinner for Baguette while Mr. Sandwich helps her play with the hose (it’s hot out). Start her bath.

    7:20 p.m.
    Change Baguette’s wet clothes and feed her.

    7:50 p.m.
    Mr. Sandwich gives Baguette her bath. Set out her pajamas and nighttime diaper, take dog out, feed dog, close dog door, wash dishes from her dinner, empty her lunch bag and clean containers, straw cups, and thermos, probably wash the skillet from that morning.

    8:05 p.m.
    Dry Baguette off, put her in nighttime diaper and pajamas, let her watch Sesame Street. Continue to prep for next day, gathering any paperwork or materials needed for day care. Eat tortilla with peanut butter (if lucky).

    9:10 p.m.
    Go to bed. All of us, because otherwise Baguette won’t. (Note: That’s “go to bed,” not “go to sleep.” There’s no telling how long that could take.)

    What’s missing from this picture?

    *This is when Mr. Sandwich does as much laundry as humanly possible in 50 minutes. Neither one of us has time to fold it or put it away.

    Photo by skyloader, via Flickr.

  • Why We Want Our Own Place, Part II

    My last post on this subject focused on the negatives of our current domicile. That shows what we want to move away from–but what do we want to move to?

    We want to live in a place that:

    • we can paint.
    • is more private.
    • has a garage, the better to store our sporting equipment.
    • has a space where we can install a clothesline.
    • doesn’t require us to share the laundry room.
    • has a yard in which we can start a vegetable garden.
    • we can make more environmentally friendly.

    That last item is a big one. We have lots of plans, depending on the house we find. But it will be wonderful to have a place that we can make our own, that will allow us to live the way we want to.

  • Why We Want Our Own Place, Part I

    So many reasons. Here are just a few:

    • The revolving crowd of guys who hang out back drinking. Who knew a dumpster could be so happening?
    • The consistently and creatively failing plumbing.
    • The five parking spaces for six apartments (two of which are 2-bedroom units).
    • The lack of laundry room etiquette.
    • The occasional lines of unidentified white powder on top of the washing machine (I’m not sure who left it there, but I know it wasn’t either of us).
    • The total lack of insulation.
    • The weird placement of the coat closet, which sticks into the living room and creates an alcove that is the only place to put the couch–perpendicular to the TV, meaning that only one of us can sit there to watch television. That’s right, in four years we have almost never been able to sit next to each other and watch TV.
    • Most recently, the neighbor’s relatives who brought their dogs over and let them deposit nasty piles behind our car–which they left for someone else (me, apparently) to hose off.

    So while the housing market may not yet have hit bottom, we’re satisfied with the fact that it’s no longer at its high point. Home ownership, here we come!