Squid Widget and the Crawling Chaos of Childhood

It’s been a bit of an odd day. The atmosphere was charged due to the coming storms, and the Squidlets were squirrelly beyond belief. I hung out the clean diapers on the washline as a sacrifice to the Rain King. (side note – I find it incomprehensible that many American neighborhoods have covenants prohibiting clotheslines. To this I say WTF, people?! Because they’re unsightly? Your 3 MPG Hummer in the driveway is unsightly, to me. Your three-car garage full of gas guzzling “toys”? Unsightly. Your pesticide and herbicide laden golf course lawn? Unsightly. A clothesline, full of clean clothes airing on the summer breeze? Childhood in a (recyclable) bottle. ) Anyway.

Auntie M, the Squidlets and the clothesline

So Grandma Kay and Auntie M came over to take K to the park to swim in the little river that flows through our community. Not the Wisconsin River, this one’s a glorified stream, pretty much. K played with M’s friend’s son Orion, who pretended to be a sea creature and he and K had a grand time chasing around in the water. It’s neat to be able to take my kids to the park I spent my summers in as a child. K got back, forgot the swim diaper does not contain piddles, and promptly piddled all over the dining room carpet (another side note – carpeting and dining rooms are poor bedfellows indeed. Someday, this will all be cork). When daddy got home with pizza, she was pretty excited, and jumping around in her chair at the table. So much so, in fact, that she slipped and banged her head on the antique Catholic kneeler I had near the kitchen to serve as a “reading nook” for the Squidlets. It didn’t seem so bad at first, until we lifted her bangs and realized she’d cut her forehead open on one of the brass brads holding the burgundy velvet padding onto the kneely bit. Ow! Big red “O” on her forehead, like a Tesco’s Harry Potter or something. I put antibiotic ointment and a bandage on immediately, and there was much comforting to be given. Poor dear. I took a trip to Target while the Squidlets had their bath, and bought some various bandages, salves, and scar-minimizing goop to use after it heals. I don’t mind my facial scars, but they’re tiny. The one on K’s forehead could be a whopper if not attended to properly. So that’ll be my next month or so, working on getting that thing to heal neatly. She cheered up after a bit and started banging on her little xylophone piano, singing “I hit my head, you hit me on the head, I hit my head”. Charming, no? Vaguely reminiscent of the time we were grocery shopping, and she very loudly shrieked “Don’t Hit Me!” when I told her we weren’t buying the Dora the Explorer sugar bomb cereal. We most certainly don’t hit our children, and I have no idea where she got the idea to yell that, but it sure made me feel like I was about three inches tall and reeking of squirrel vomit.

Time to work on the mountain of clutter that the guest room vomited out when we moved K’s futon in there. Amazing how much detritus collects in the “unused” areas of a house when you’ve occupied it for 9 years. We’ve lived here long enough to have painted the outside twice. Mostly because I picked a dark color that caused too rapid an expansion/contraction of the masonite siding and kept squeezing the caulk out. Recaulking is a pain in the butt. Not to mention the excess heat inside the house with the dark siding. The portions of the house that are light green now are NOTICABLY cooler. Weird how that works, no?

By the end of the month, the pine plantation in our back yard should be gone. I think they were planted back in the ’60s as a way to perhaps make money for the homeowner, but that ship has pretty much sailed. Ten years ago, or fifteen, the paper companies might have wanted to buy the trees. Not so much, now. I bet we’ll find some use for them though. I am hoping to plant some Lindens from my in-laws, and transplant some of the “volunteer” sugar maples that have come up in flower beds, when the pines are gone. It’ll be bright back there for a couple years, but I think things should fill in nicely.

And last but not least, I was checking out the flower beds this afternoon and realized that the Anemones have fluffed out like little blowfish made of cotton. I never realized this was their seed distribution method. They’re adorable, little silky cottonballs full of seeds. I randomly planted some around the shade garden in hopes of having more in the spring, they’re lovely.

Wish us luck keeping K from scarring and becoming Harriet Potter.