April 2, 2003

Well, yesterday got worse before it got better.  Signed off the computer, got ready for a great evening (and it was) and set about my cleaning.  Did the dishes, noticed a smell, but didn't think much of it.  Ran the dishes and started cleaning the oven.  That's right.  Cleaning the oven, which I never do.  I figured if I was to spend the night relaxing, I'd be more likely able to enjoy it if I'd put forth some reasonable effort.  On that note, I should interject something of fantastic interest that I learned.   My friend, Kate (yep, THAT Kate from "A Cynic Soaps Up") sent me some of this stuff, Greased Lightning, as a gift.  She knew my extreme handicap in the area of ovens (usually I clean them when I move out of the house) and told me this stuff was incredible.  I used it for everything BUT the oven and it worked great on carpets, countertops, walls, etc.  Even with her promise of how easy it was, I couldn't be lured into oven work.  Yesterday, when I wanted to grandstand great cleaning moves, I squirted some of this on my 2 year dirty oven and used a paper towel to wipe it away.  I was reminded that the original color of my oven is dark grey. 

While I was marveling over this major miracle, I noticed my feet were wet and turned around to find that the dishwasher was flooding out suds.  What I'd smelled before was regular (sink) dish soap and evidently, Nathan had poured a full bottle of it way down into the bottom of the dishwasher, along with a half box of salt.  I tried to think fast, but my tired old brain seized up.  I hurried to my alterative brain, the internet.  Nothing on how to counteract the suds, just lots of advice to never, ever do this.  Great.  I remembered something about baking soda.

No go.

Remembered something about soap being base.  Maybe adding vinegar, an acid, would kill them.

No go.

What I ended up doing was shoring up with every towel and flannel sheet in the house and continually running the "drain me" cycle, which isn't marked and has to be found each time.  When the mess finally cleared, I went back to cleaning the oven, which took a record 15 minutes to spray and wipe right off.  My oven is spotless (well, comparatively) and it only took a few minutes.  I mean it when I say that it was truly horrendous before and this stuff was magic.  I only coated it once and wiped with paper towels.  THANKS, KATE!

Eric came home and was as good as his word, which was worth the world to me.  He got home at 4pm and I went straight to bed.  He made a nice dinner for the kids and for me and took care of them until they went to bed.  I napped, watched TV, did my nails... it was great.

Don't know why I'm still so tired today, but I feel really worn down. 

Had a nice walk to school with Dylan.  Each day, we play "the game" where I interview him with a standard set of questions (What's your name?  What's your FULL name?  When's your birthday?  How long until your birthday?  How many brothers do you have?   etc etc).  Every now and then, I'll throw in a wild card questions he's not expecting, but it's usually the same 30-40 questions.  Once a month or so, I'll have him ask me questions instead.  He's come up with some good ones.  Today, I asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up.  He thought for a minute and said he wanted to be a Dad (Thank God!  None of my older kids are scurrying to make me a gramma!)  and wanted 6 kids, 5 boys and 1 girl (aww, just like Mom!).  I asked him what he wanted his wife's name to be and he told me he didn't want a wife, just 6 kids.  We didn't go much into the logistics and ethical implications of that.  He said he wanted his kids to be named as follows.  Boys:  Hidey (who likes to hide), Yakky (likes to talk), Karate (good at Karate), Grassy (likes grass - like Grandpa, I guess) and Friendly (he's very nice).  Girl:  Karate Girl.  :-)

On my way back, I finally registered that SMUD (believe it or not, that is our Utility company:  Sacramento Municipal Utility Department - where I live, SMUD handles the electricity and PG&E - of Eric Brokovich fame - handles the gas) has finished cutting the trees in the area.  Usually, they totally rape the trees that the electrical lines run through and leave them looking like sad little Treenus deMilo sculptures.  They were a little more reverent this year.  Fortunately, none of the trees in our yard are near power lines, so we get to keep them whole and full. 

The shoes are still hanging on the power lines.  >:<   A friend wrote to tell me that where she's from, it's code for a drug selling hotspot.  I hope that's not true because on one side is a retired postal worker (definitely a possibility) and on the other side is the school.  Yikes, dude.

And with that, I am going to go give the house a straighten and think about doing some laundry.  Wish I had some Greased Lightning for that.

*sigh*  I hate laundry.

Why can't I have some house elves or something?