Friday, July 23, 2010

Patience Is A Virtue

Patience is a virtue...I do not possess. I have very little patience and what I do have is used up trying not to drop "F bombs" while driving with 3 tiny men as passengers and refereeing when those same 3 tiny men feel the need to torment each other (and me) and fight.

I can't wait in lines. I go practically insane staring at the back side of the person in front of me. I shift from foot to foot. I roll my eyes when stupid people do stupid things to hold things up. At stores I mentally critique the cashiers technique and organize how I could do it better. I try my best not to breathe heavy and huff and puff. I hate lines.

My computer forces me to wait when I can't. I swear the lower my patience the slower the damn thing loads a page. The sight of the little loading icony thing by the mouse pointer makes me a little bit angry. I show my love for its little slow loading game by calling it nasty names.

My patience while driving is practically non-existent. My leg shakes while I hold down the brake pedal and wait for red lights. If the person stopped at a light doesn't start to drive through the second the light changes I have to fight the urge to honk and usually do growl "go!" at them under my breathe". When I drive somewhere that takes more than about 10 minutes I constantly look at the clock in the dash to see how much longer until I'm there and then add a few more kilometers to my speed.

When I worked at the Donut Shack I almost had to hold my own hand down from plucking the change out of people's hands when they stood there flipping the coins around in their hands trying to count it out. I don't know how I ever managed to make it almost 12 years without screaming at an indecisive customer "what the *@#! do you want already?!". Or to the customer that ummmm...ummmmm...ummmms, "ummmm...t-t-t-t-today jr!". Thinking back now, perhaps that is where all of my patience went. It got all used up on all those hundreds of patience stealing creeps I was forced to serve in a day.

Poor Papa Bear. All of the projects he starts I want done. Done like the day after regardless of the project. He is in the middle of a project he says will take 3-4 months. I know Papa Bear speed and I say 5-6 month project-we shall see which is more accurate. This project may just put me in a straight jacket and drive me all the way to the nut house and drop me in a padded room. Building the addition sounded like a great idea until it started. When we talked about building it I was all for it with dreams of a second bathroom (without pee on the seat), a walk in closet (Papa Bear still hasn't told me where he is going to keep his clothes yet), a basement with a playroom (thank the lord, I'm sick of tripping over tractors in my kitchen), a new and larger family room (where the whole family can actually all be without sitting on top of each other) and renovating our existing family room into an much needed office for Papa Bear and I (the corner of the kitchen counter, in front of the dishwasher isn't really cutting it for my business space) all dancing in my head. Now I just want it done. Yesterday. Done.

I try, I really do. I just can't wait..for anything. It drives Papa Bear nuts. I hope patience (or lack of) isn't something that is hereditary or contagious, I don't want my boys to catch it and if it is something that is learned could someone please come over here and teach them so they don't have to worry about how red their face is turning while they wait for their turn on a roller coaster please?

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Close Quarters

Today we reached the point in our renovations that I knew was coming and I dreaded its arrival. Today was the day that Fuzzy's room needed to be evacuated and he would have to share a room with Little Bear likely for a couple of months.

I love my sleep and therefore not at all looking forward to my best sleeper being bunked up with my worst (although Wee One is in good contention to take over the title as worst...). For their entire lives all 3 of my boys have had their own separate rooms in my home. This is a big adjustment for me..err I mean them.

Little Bear is less than impressed to have his space invaded by a pint sized intruder. Fuzzy on the other hand couldn't be happier. It is like he won the lottery and was lifted up and dropped right in the middle of Big Boy World and surrounded by all that used to be forbidden fruit.

In Big Boy World there are real Lego - not that Megablock/Duplo block crap. The real deal, choking hazard, build a tower more than 10 blocks tall stuff. There are books with paper pages instead of cardboard (easier to digest after chewing half a page though not as filling). There are pencil crayons and scissors and all kinds of things that little boys aren't supposed to touch. There is a whole other pajama drawer to explore when the mood strikes to wear half a dozen different jammies to bed in one night. There is an alarm clock just begging to have its buttons pushed and time changed. Poor Little Bear.

The 2 boys had barely shared a room for more than a few hours when the fighting over territory started. Little Bear screaming at Fuzzy to put his blankets back on his bed and Fuzzy looking bewildered by the request. How are you supposed to tunnel through the blanket and pretend you are a caterpillar or such while the blankets are still on the bed? As if it was an unheard of request.

Today was just the beginning of hearing things like "he's touching all my stuff", "its my stuff too now", "he's making a mess!", he won't stay on his side" "that's mine!" among others. Oh how I long for this renovation to be complete! I can't wait to have an extra room that isn't full of stuff. I don't know why we didn't think of doubling up the boys to make room before - oh that's right because it is INSANE.