Friday, July 8, 2011

The Princess and the Poo

I am having one of those weeks days where I just am feeling, "blah". Today has been one of the days to really top things off. 
When Mr. T bought our house, he decided it would be a "fixer upper". At the time I thought, "ohh that will be perfect. We can buy a house for cheap, make it the way we want it to be and sell it for more than we bought it. That's perfect!"
Then reality set in. The house was built in 1936 and was in great condition, minus the 6 layers of wall paper and the outdated kitchen and bathroom. After almost 2 YEARS of fixing this bad boy up, it is about done. F.Y.I. If you enjoy arguing with your spouse and want to understand what extreme frustration is a fixer upper.
Now, don't get me wrong. I love the house and all the changes we have made. Mr. T has done everything as quickly as he could, considering our past couple of years but since the house is older it seems like there is ALWAYS something that needs to be done.
Currently, our plumbing is backed up. When I run the washing machine gross, smelly stuff comes up from the toilet. TMI?! Too bad..this is my blog and my rant:) 
So we have the Poo Rooter man coming over. He tells us he will be at our house anywhere from 12-5. Awesome, thanks for the small window of time buddy. I have nothing else to do but wait. It seems like I am at mercy to them and they know with a disgusting bathroom or waste your afternoon waiting on them.

Not Actual Plumbing van. But that name is a little ironic (my name is Melissa..a.k.a.Mel)Stay with me folks!
So now, the nice man that reeks of cigarettes decides that his good time to show up is RIGHT in the middle of my cranky baby's nap time. He sort of resembles Linus from Peanuts because there is hazy cloud around him from cigarette smoke, but I still like him. Anyone that knows how to get poo out of little pipes (insert a million jokes here) in 105 degree weather is okay in my books. I do, however, resist the urge to yell "wake the baby and I'll break your arm" to the man, so instead I simply invite the strange random man into my house while calmly saying, "sorry it took me so long to answer the door...I have a sleeping baby in the other room." HINT, HINT. Clearly he wasn't getting my drift because he clamors through in his work boots and continues to not use his "inside voice".
Isabelle has amazingly slept through this entire thing and I think I'm in the clear when suddenly our two big dogs spot the man and go APE *crap* on this guy. I don't want to hush them, because they should be going crazy at a strange man at our house. So I let them bark. And bark, while assuring the man they are only attack dogs when I want them to be. Sorta joking. But my tiny lady is so used to them that she sleeps through that. Hallelujah!
No. The noise level doesn't stop there. The man then gets on the roof (Isabelle doesn't know who Santa is yet, so she would be terrified if she saw this skinny,smoky man on our roof) and puts this long grinder looking thing through our pipes. It sounded like an earthquake in our house, which you think would wake a baby...but no. Still sleeping.

Then, the man comes through the house again to turn on all the faucets and tell me that he's still looking for the problem. You haven't found the problem? After all that ruckus and stomping around, we are still clogged? Awesome.  As he stomps out of the house again in his combat boots, Isabelle screams a scared scream and I of course run to her room to find her terrified because of the weird noises coming from the rest of the house.
Now, I have a confession to make. I was ticked. She desperately needed this nap and she is NOT a happy camper when she wakes up too early from her nap. When I picked her up she was scared and clingy to me. Isabelle is generally not a cuddly girl. She pushes me off when I try to hug her and now that she is a walker, she always tries to nose dive when I am holding her so I will let her down.
This time, because she was terrified, she clung to me. She stopped screaming, she just clung to me and buried her head in my chest. I loved it. I loved the loud, smokey plumber for making all that noise and I loved our backed up plumbing for making the man come out to make all that noise. It all became worth it when she just hung on to me. Am I a bad mother for loving that my daughter was terrified and only wanted me to hold? Who cares? I loved it. Thanks Poo man. You're the best.

1 comment:

Mama G said...

Oh man, Momma, that is just awful. Still clogged? I am so sorry all around. I hope someone can figure it out soon.

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