Life, laundry and the love of shoveling

The weather 'round here has been bizarre.  12 degrees Celsius one day, 8 inches of snow the next.  (Do you find it strange that as Canadians we flip back and forth between Metric and Imperial measurements without missing a beat.  Whatever.)  So that day I decide to do all sorts of outside things.  I strapped on the plastic hand guards (aka empty bread bags) and protective foot wear and waded into the dog run for a clean up.  Trust me, there is no quicker way to ruin an otherwise beautiful spring like day than cleaning up copious amounts of semi frozen dog turds.  Sure I still have to wipe little boy butt but ug... there was some gagging as I inadvertently could identify random things Lyric had indulged in (Tennis ball, lacy underwear (don't judge my laundry powress - I suck - and she found my white pile) and wooden train track just to name a few.)  This is an activity that doesn't require an audience or commentary but I had both.  The 4 legged turd producer stood guard at the top of the stairs flanked by her color commentary staff who gave directions and insight to my work.  I can't wait until he's old enough so that I can return the favor and give directions like "there is more Mama - get that one" or "It's yucky in Lyrics toilet - you clean it" After that it seemed fitting to reward my hard work with a nice BBQ of Corbin's most often requested meal "Hambuger and fwench fwies" (with a side order of Mama juice to toast the nice weather and hard work).  He was sitting at the table eating his salad and through a mouthful of spinach and tomatoes spewed, "DON'T TAKE MY FOOD OUTSIDE MAMA!!! WHERE YOU GOING WITH MY FOOD!!!" At that point it occurs to me that perhaps he didn't really remember me BBQ'ing in the summer but I flipped burgers with a smile and returned to a chorus of, "Where you cook my food Mama?" and "Deese Hamugers taste good from outside".  We woke the next morning to heaps of snow which for a 3 year old is a world of fun but for me means aw crap... I gotta shovel all that... TWICE.  It was good because it gave us a chance to practice the new found art of pizza making at the ski hill.  I'm not going to overstate his skills (or mine) - he's 3 - the fact that he LOVES skiing and tries hard to do what I ask is more than I could hope for and he does it with a smile.  The high 5's and cheers are more liberal and lo and behold, so are the snow plows.  Now back to the laundry for a moment because I have a question.  I'll admit, laundry has never been my forte - It gets washed but somehow gets stuck in a black hole between clean hamper and hangers.  This morning as I sorted through an inordinate number of dirty hampers I couldn't shake the question of, "Do tiny little white undies personalized by sir skid mark qualify as whites or darks?"  That may remain a mystery for life with the upside that by the time the bleach begins to fail me they are scheduled for being sized out and a new team of clearly white soldiers is phased in soon to befall the same fate of those gone before.  (EDIT: as I reflect on this statement I'd like to defend the wiper and my capabilities.  Over 37  a lot of years I believe I've mastered the art and when I leave him, the back yard is free from debris... perhaps the "wind" blows it in?)  As I sit now folding this heap, it's a little sad as I'm creating a pile of "that's too small" things I lovingly collected for years before Corbin came home.  He came home and I wanted so badly for him to eat and grow and prosper (and I still do) but in 7 months he has blazed from some stuff being 24mos to now wearing 3T all round.  So for those of you anticipating your little one coming home, don't blink. 

This blog entry was brought to you by the#6 which is the number of loads of laundry I've tackled today and the beep beep beep of my drier indicates that break time is over.  There is nothing more motivating than realizing that my supply of comfy yoga wear is all in the dirty pile and having your son go commando for the morning because the cupboard was bear of skid free undies.  And the cycle begins again. Stay tuned for more exciting adventures, next up is vacuuming and nanny recruitment (so excited and so close!).  Just a day in the life... of a suburban house wife.  Google it... I dare you ;)