More Time
I wish I had more time in the day to do the things I like to do. Sometimes it feels like I have no time for myself. I realize that having a big family and working so damn much is the reason why, but man it would be nice to be able to dig out my old Konica 35 mm SLR and take some nice photos again. There is so much natural beauty around here in Central Florida, not like back home in Washington, but it's still very pretty in the natural un-developed areas around here, of which are disappearing at a rapid rate, thanks to a housing boom that seems endless.
I guess I should just take the young'uns with me and just do it, as the old Nike slogan went. (or still does, I'm so out of touch.)
Even now back to working eight hours a day it just doesn't seem like there is a whole lot of time left to do anything. Yesterday I got home from work took the kids out to the park to fart around at the baseball field and the playground. Before I knew it, my watch was reading six P.M.
I still had to drive home, put the little guys in the bath and get them all to bed. I had not even fed them yet at this point.
The kicker though, was my daughter yelling to me that my youngest, C3, had something wrong with him. I figured he fell off the equipment or something. So, I find him under the play structure crying. He had an accident in his shorts. I figured everyone has accidents no problem, we'll get this solved in a hurry. As I walk, and he waddles, to the car, I tell my other kids let's go. They ask why, and not wanting to embarrass him (C3) I said don't worry about it, let's go.
We get to the van, and I realize I'm in a bit of a pickle. No wipes, no old T-shirt, nothing to wipe his butt with. This particular park does not have a restroom neat the playground, just porta-potties (WTF?) I find one of MY socks in my Sunday-going-to-meeting shoes. So I wet the sock down with ice water (it's all I had) and proceed to pull down his underwear, and wipe away the greenest poo, that only a three y/o little boy could manufacture, off his ass.
C3 had to ride home wearing nothing but his shirt, and I had to listen to the other kids bitch the whole way home because C3 was stinky. I guess they don't remember the accidents they had. Like peeing inside McDonald's playground tubes. Or pooping at the pool at an Orlando resort. (I will have to write about this one.)
Nobody was in bed before nine last night, I didn't get in bed before ten, and four A.M. came really early this morning, when the alarm went off.
I guess I should just take the young'uns with me and just do it, as the old Nike slogan went. (or still does, I'm so out of touch.)
Even now back to working eight hours a day it just doesn't seem like there is a whole lot of time left to do anything. Yesterday I got home from work took the kids out to the park to fart around at the baseball field and the playground. Before I knew it, my watch was reading six P.M.
I still had to drive home, put the little guys in the bath and get them all to bed. I had not even fed them yet at this point.
The kicker though, was my daughter yelling to me that my youngest, C3, had something wrong with him. I figured he fell off the equipment or something. So, I find him under the play structure crying. He had an accident in his shorts. I figured everyone has accidents no problem, we'll get this solved in a hurry. As I walk, and he waddles, to the car, I tell my other kids let's go. They ask why, and not wanting to embarrass him (C3) I said don't worry about it, let's go.
We get to the van, and I realize I'm in a bit of a pickle. No wipes, no old T-shirt, nothing to wipe his butt with. This particular park does not have a restroom neat the playground, just porta-potties (WTF?) I find one of MY socks in my Sunday-going-to-meeting shoes. So I wet the sock down with ice water (it's all I had) and proceed to pull down his underwear, and wipe away the greenest poo, that only a three y/o little boy could manufacture, off his ass.
C3 had to ride home wearing nothing but his shirt, and I had to listen to the other kids bitch the whole way home because C3 was stinky. I guess they don't remember the accidents they had. Like peeing inside McDonald's playground tubes. Or pooping at the pool at an Orlando resort. (I will have to write about this one.)
Nobody was in bed before nine last night, I didn't get in bed before ten, and four A.M. came really early this morning, when the alarm went off.
posted by Tall Molly Man at 6:36 AM
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