Yay!
Because I wasn't able to get to the yard work on Saturday, I spent all of this morning out in 100 degree temperatures, mowing, weed eating and edging the stupid grass. I have half a mind to let it die just so I don't have to do this all summer. But I won't. I like having a nice garden and I really like telling anyone who'll listen that it looks good because of my blood, sweat and tears. And I do mean that literally. Last summer, I almost lost my index finger to the electric shrub clippers. Apparently you shouldn't try to hold them by the blade-especially when they're turned on! I've never seen so much blood, it was all over the drive way, a path leading right into the house, through the living room and into the kitchen. My three year old (at the time), kept saying "shhh, shhh" placing her little finger over her lips. As if silence would make the blood stop gushing through all of the paper towels wrapped around my finger.
Anyway, it was a typical, hellish time out there today. Untangling the orange extension cords that were just plopped down in the garage. I, of course, was the last one to use them. I spent that half hour basically swearing at myself under my breath. What was I thinking, I mean, come on! Why ever would I leave those cords in such a ridiculous state. By the time I finished getting them sorted, I had sweat dripping from every pore of my body. I could feel my long sleeved shirt and long pants clinging to my skin and I'm here to tell you, it was not a pleasant feeling. My floppy hat was drenched, stuck to my forehead and my sunglasses were threatening to slip off my nose. EW, disgusting!
My two youngest, the 2 y/o and 4 y/o, interrupted me so many times that I eventually turned the sprinkler on for them just so I could get started on the edging. But then there was that nagging fear at the back of my mind about getting myself electrocuted. I seem to remember hearing somewhere that water and electricity don't mix so well. I exercised a good amount of caution, keeping the cords away from the water. After about three minutes of edging, my four y/o was at my side again, tattling on her little brother for picking up the sprinkler, turning the water up, turning the water down, complaining how she was cold (this is where I stared at her in disbelief), insisting she and her little brother needed a drink, a popsicle, a Gogurt, Rice Krispy treats and watermelon.
These little interruptions add up and this is why it always takes me about 4 hours to finish the yard work instead of two. I definitely have a disadvantage as a mom. If my husband were to mow, it would take a fraction of the time-the kids never ever bug him. This is when I started feeling sorry for myself. (The pity party happens every time I go out to mow, like clockwork!) I'm a wimpy sort of thing.
By the time I had everything tidied up and looking nice, I was completely exhausted. It was all I could do to put everything away. But I pressed on, determined to get it all done so I wouldn't have to go back out there in the blazing sun. I practically had to lean my weight on the lawn mower to keep myself upright as I returned it to the garage. Light headed, with floaters in my eyes, I returned the weed eater and edger to their hooks. And the orange extension cords? Well, they're in a pile, ready to be untangled again next week.
