Not So Monk-ish

I love the TV show Monk. It is one of my favorites. It's about a brilliant detective who has some pretty serious obsessive/compulsive tendencies and phobias and such. I recently visited the Monk website where they have a quiz you can take to determine whether or not you are "Monk-ish" and if so, how bad. I was shocked to see just how "Monk-ish" this quiz said I was. I know I have issues as much as the next person, but am I really that bad(that could just be obsessive denial talking)?

I think I can be honest with you, this is a safe place. I only have a few such phobias, and O/C problems. I don't even think these would qualify as phobias, like one of my worst: mint jelly. I am not scared or fearful of it, I would just rather scrape my fingernails over 15 chalkboards than look at it. There is something about the color of it that really makes me shudder. Then there are cars that just have a coat of that gray primer on them; it feels bad to even think about it! That is only 2 that's not so bad. I think Monk has a list of 100 at least. As far as obsessive things go, there are just a few things I can not handle. You know those bottles of stuff like ketchup with the lids made to be placed down for ease of flow? When people put the lids facing up so the labels are then upside down, I don't care who does it, I have to fix it. I could be at a strangers house and I wouldn't let it go. I would have to stop everything else I was doing to fix it.

But really, that is just like common sense, right? So I would have to disagree with the assessment given me by the website quiz graders (or whoever). I'm not afraid of milk or mushrooms or rabbits, so really I can't be that bad.

You Can Dress Them Up, But You Can't Take Them Out

So Zach had a Bible study tonight and I was all prepared to have to be by myself for the night. Luckily his parents felt sorry for me (or more likely, felt sorry the kids who would have eaten PB&J for the second meal in a row) and invited us out to dinner. Don't get me wrong, they would gladly eat PB&J three meals a day if I let them, but they have a healthy love of Cracker Barrel as well.
In the four and a half years now that I've had children, you would think there would be some lessons that I would have learned in this time. Take going to a restaurant for example; they have never behaved well when we go out to a restaurant. If one behaves the other doesn't, but never have they both been able to sit still in a chair like humans and eat their food with utensils. Tonight was no exception.
We sat down at Cracker Barrel and ordered our food; everyone ordered pancakes except me. I wanted a salad. If you have ever been to a Cracker Barrel you know that they do portion sizes to the extreme. So, my salad comes and I wanted dressing on the side because they literally give you a 3/4 cup of salad dressing (I mean really, who needs that much dressing) so, the nice lady is handing out the dishes and is about to hand me the vat of dressing when Corban reached for it--and it fell. But it did not just fall, it fell all over me. It happened almost in slow motion. It hit about a half inch below my shoulder and spilled all down my arm. Then, the bowl hit the side of my chair and spilled into my pocketbook hanging on the side of the chair. Then took a left and hit my hip and went all over my jeans. So, there I was covered in ranch dressing; it took a few napkins, 2 towels and a mop to clean it all up! Luckily I keep my pocketbook filled with trash and old receipts, so that took most of the hit in there. I like ranch dressing as much as the next guy, but it really did not smell (or feel) very good having it on my shirt all through dinner.
After we got past that, the kids ended up doing pretty well; they ate well, at least. It was difficult cleaning the syrup off of Corban's eyebrows, though.

AARP Here I Come

So I have decided to just accept the fact that I am OLD. Not really old chronologically, but just an old fogey, and I really think I have my children to blame. Zach and were talking about how before we had kids the day didn't really even start until 7pm. We used to do stuff, fun stuff, stay out past dark. We used to eat dinner at 8pm and laugh at the old people who ate at 5:30, now we are joining them for the early bird specials and complaining when the wait is too long. We used to think if there wasn't at least a 45min wait at a restaurant it was not worth eating at. Nowadays after our 5:30 dinner we don't even know what else to do but go home and watch TV.
Not that any of this is all bad, I mean who doesn't need extra rest and relaxation, especially when you have young kids. It was just something I needed to come to terms with. I don't mind being an honorary senior citizen, I just wish I could get the 5% grocery discount on Tuesdays.

Home Sweet Home

Yes, I have been home for almost a week, and let me say, it is GOOD. My house has never looked better, my bed never more comfy, my children never more likable. It was a long hard time, but I made it through with only 1 small melt-down, well maybe 2.
When I got home I decided to go on strike for a while, but after 3 days I realized that no one was coming to cross the picket lines, and it just meant more work for down the road. So I am back to my regular routine.
We had a busy week, even with just 2 kids, Zach preached the sermon on Sunday, and did a fantastic job, Corban turned 2 on Sun, and both the boys were baptized. Corban is still too young to really care about his birthday, but Calvin was quite jealous, he asked what he was going to get for Corban's birthday. I had to explain that we are not Hobbits, and only Corban got presents. However, all my words became pointless when someone bought him a new movie! I have come to the conclusion that Calvin really believes all the toys are his and he is just kind enough to let Corban play with them (sometimes). I am not sure how to go about setting that one straight, but I have considered throwing away all toys and letting them play outside with sticks.
Well, Zach and I are off on a mini-vacation, we are going out of town for 2 days, while the grandparents keep the kids. It will be a much needed getaway.

It's Like A Cup Of Coffee

I am still alive! That is about all I can say at the end of day 4. I have new list of noises from toys that make my head explode, and my patience is being tested in ways I've never dreamed of. I am sure I have cleaned snot by the gallon, diapers by the score and toys by the million.
I was reminded of a very funny Seinfeld episode, where Jerry is telling Elaine that they don't have to stay in Florida very much longer:
ELAINE: (to Jerry) Five more days?JERRY: Well today's almost over. And weekdays always go by fast. Friday we're leaving. It's like two days really. It's like a cup of coffee. It will go by like that. (snapping his fingers)

So I keep telling myself that it is almost over...and I almost believe it!