Pigeon Butt

I started my final term in school last Wednesday and, although the classes are interesting, my back is not enjoying them. When I still lived at home with my parents, about 17 years ago, my room was in the dormered attic and the stairs had no carpeting or runner. While I was on the phone one day, I slipped and fell all the way to the bottom of the staircase, on my tail bone, and crashed into the closed door at the bottom. My arm, in trying to catch myself, got tangled in the handrail that ran alongside the stairs. While I had a couple of bruises, it was my back that was damaged the most. I had a huge black and blue at the base of my spine and it took me about a week to be able to walk again.

To this day, my lower back still bothers me if I sit or stand too long, and when I clean or do heavy lifting, I really feel it the next day. I cleaned the house this past Friday, to get the house ready for my daughter's third birthday party, and I had to do it quickly - before the boys returned home from school. Of course my back was going to hurt, as it always does. But dealing with the party and then having to sit at the computer to do my school work didn't help my back work itself out yet. The sitting is actually radiating the pain to my upper back. I am now walking around with what an ex-boyfriend affectionately called "pigeon butt."

Yes, it's funny, you can laugh. I start to stand up only to find out that I can't straighten all the way up, so I'm bent slightly forward at the waist with my butt sticking out behind me. Imagine a pigeon walking. Even though it hurts, I'm used to it but it's a sight to see me trying to do anything when I can't walk straight or quickly. My kids will be calling me from the next room, "Hurry, Mom! You have to see this commercial!" And there I am shuffling along like a 90-year-old woman - feet barely lifting off the floor, using doorjambs and furniture for balance, with my butt sticking out, saying, "I'm coming. I'm on my way. Here I come. I'm getting there. I'm running as fast as I can." :) When I go out in public it's even more amusing because of the looks that I get.

Anything can set it off, too; not just cleaning or lifting. One time I bent to pick up a towel off the bathroom floor, felt a sharp pinch, and that was that. That time I actually looked like I lost something on the ground and was desperately trying to find it; at least for the first couple of hours, anyway. After I could straighten up a bit, I couldn't stand for any length of time without rocking back and forth on my feet to take the pressure off my back. People are sympathetic, though - sometimes. I was standing in line at a donut shop later that day, rocking and rocking, and I must have had a pained look on my face because the man standing next to me asked if my back was the problem. At my ascent, he helped me order then walked me to my car. That was really nice. Other times people just get irritated that I'm taking up too much of their time. Poo on them!

I can laugh about it, though, but I have yet to find anything that will actually take the pain far, far away. Heating pads and ice packs work for a short time; exercise helps - when I can do it; and my kids will walk on my back for me, when I really need it. I've tried hanging, upside-down, from low tree branches; and twisting to try to get the kinks out; however, they're also only temporary solutions. I don't have the money for a chiropractor, and I can't afford gravity boots. So if anyone out there has seen, or knows of, a cure for "pigeon butt," please pass it along. I'm starting to collect birds at my window looking for food from their mama. :)

So Much for Relaxation

I was already here today and didn't think I'd be back for a day or so. However, something came up that I need to discuss and, as it's after 10:00p.m., I can't really call anyone. It's nothing detrimental but I won't be able to relax and get any rest if I don't put this out there. I'm not complaining mind you; I was laughing at myself the entire time this took place, but I still have to tell the story. First, though, why in the world do toy manufacturers make toys that have to be assembled but the instructions are impossible to follow? And why don't the pieces fit together as they should? Can anyone tell me that?

After all the cleaning I've done for the past couple of days, I thought I would have a relaxing evening sitting quietly, maybe have a drink or two, and just enjoy the silence of the night. That wasn't the case. Tyler, my seven year old, came to me with a prize he'd won at school the other day that he wanted me to assemble for him. It's a wooden 3-D puzzle of an eagle perched atop a globe. The eagle is leaning somewhat forward with it's wings high over it's head with feathers spread. The puzzle consists of about 55 pieces, all with grooves punched into them, in different places, so they can slide together quickly and easily to form the final product. Okay. I like puzzles and I like handy work so this shouldn't be a problem. Honestly, how bad could it be? I was quick to find out just how bad it was.

Ty had already punched out all the pieces, which he delivered to me on a paper towel, along with the assembly instructions. Why he punched them out I'll never know. Maybe it's just a kid thing. They feel like they're helping with the project in some way, even if they can't do the actual assembling. Whatever. I could figure it out. It's a puzzle for crying out loud. So I put the instructions on my newly-cleaned desk, spread the pieces out, got some Elmer's Wood Glue and sat down for a nice, easy job of puzzle assembly.

What I soon found out was that the instructions weren't exactly instructions on how to put the puzzle together. It was a single sheet of paper with a diagram of all the pieces, not in any particular order, with each groove, of each piece, meticulously numbered. Mind you, some of these pieces have only one groove, but others have anywhere from five to fourteen grooves. That's because anywhere from five to fourteen other pieces are supposed to be stuck to that one piece. The exact instructions read: "Pick up two pieces which correspond with each other by number and assemble." It would have been great if it were that easy. First of all, there were, at times, more than just two pieces with the same corresponding number. It was up to me to actually figure out which C1 attached to that C1, and where the other C1s actually fit in. Not so easy after all.

Okay, I get started with the base - the globe. I've got the bottom circle and the top circle attached to two of the side pieces and the bottom ring in place. All of them are glued nicely together and I'm pleased so far. Then I glance at the opposite end of the diagram and find that four of the other base pieces are listed there. Oh good grief! Now I have to take apart the pieces I've assembled just to slide these other pieces in place. Breathe. I can handle it. Done. The globe is together. Then I notice that there are grooves on the top of two of the side pieces, and grooves on the bottom of the other two side pieces. Is it supposed to be that way, or are the grooves all supposed to be on the top or all on the bottom? Check the picture of the finished product on the other side of the instructions. Guess what? All the grooves are supposed to be on the bottom. Disassemble the whole thing to flip these pieces around, but now the top is where the bottom is supposed to be and vice versa. Holy cow. Now I'm getting annoyed. Okay. Take it all apart again flip everything one more time and, voila, the globe is now together and ready for the eagle.

There's another problem, though. Not only are my hands now covered in glue from all the taking apart and putting together, but the grooves that are machine-punched into these puzzle pieces aren't fitting together as they should. Some only slide half way in, some slide too far, and others are so narrow that I'm afraid they'll split if I force them to fit where they belong. Well, I'll do my best. The glue should hold each piece in place - even if it doesn't fit exactly right.

So, onward with the eagle. This part wasn't too bad until I realized that the base doesn't stand solidly on the desk. It's a bit wobbly because of the aforementioned faulty groove system. No matter. I keep going. The leg/body pieces seem to fit nicely. The grooves on the tail piece, though, are too close together so I have to squeeze the body pieces inward to fit the tail on. Still, it's working. The neck piece is the same as the tail piece so the head pieces don't fit properly and the back feathers are too wide now to fit at all. Get the scissors and cut them slightly so they fit. Great. Done. Now for the wings. These wouldn't be too bad except for the fact that they're the pieces with the fourteen grooves I mentioned earlier - each groove holds a small feather piece. Put the feather pieces on the wings, some of which have to be glued in place because the grooves are way too wide, then set the wings in place on top of the body. Wow! My masterpiece is finished.

Three, two, one...the whole thing topples over because the base is wobbly - remember, I mentioned that earlier also - and the eagle's wings are heavier than the globe. Now I let the expletives have their place in my living room while I scramble to pick up all the individual feather pieces that have bounced themselves loose with the eagle's nose dive. Glue those pieces back in place, replace the wings, and see if I can adjust the stand a bit so it stays upright. It'll stand for a while - as long as nobody touches it, or breathes near it. It's going to have to stand on a bookshelf with its tail against the wall just for balance, but, it's done. If Ty, or anyone for that matter, actually touches it, I'll lose my mind. I can't stand the thought of gluing more feather pieces on if they fall off again. If he ever brings home anything like this again, I'm calling the manufacturer and having them send someone to my home to put the thing together.

At least now I can relax, though. It's together, he won't bug me about it, and I did get one benefit out of the whole deal. I can sit in bed, tonight, peeling the dried glue from my hands, the way I did when I was in grade school. Remember how fun that was? That should give me a little bit of relaxation.

Spring Cleaning

My finals were finished last week and I've got a break from school until the 15th so I decided to do something constructive with my time - the dreaded spring cleaning. I did take a couple of days off just to relax and rejuvenate but, on Saturday, I began the process. My usual house cleaning is a once-a-week affair. On Saturdays I clean, top to bottom and then enjoy the scenery. I do straighten up every night, don't get me wrong, but nothing is more satisfying than seeing the house in it's, somewhat, pristine condition after it's been completely cleaned - furniture dusted, floors vacuumed, and all the rest.

On Sunday, though, while I was doing laundry, I got the idea that the kids' dressers needed to be raided for any and all clothing that no longer fits, or that they don't wear. I started with the boys, and, with their assistance, we gained three plastic grocery bags of clothing that I will take to my parenting group to let my comrades fish through in case their children are in need of whatever.

My daughter was a different story. I did her clothing alone. She's only two and would keep everything if I let her. She had nine bags of clothing that no longer fit. NINE bags. Good grief. There is a girl at my parenting group with three girls all under the age of three so she'll get those. I had a friend with two daughters my boys' ages and he was always donating his girls' stuff to my daughter. Once I got rid of the 18mo - 2Ts I began going through the rest of what he donated to me for Lettie. She's got one large drawer stuffed with 5s and 6s; another whole drawer and a shelf both stuffed with 4s; and there were so many 3s - which she now wears - that she's got an entire new wardrobe for this year. There was so much in size 3 that I had to put some of it in the bags to be donated to my friend. My daughter has more clothing than any child should have. She's got more than I've got. :)

Once that was finished I felt a twinge of satisfaction. I accomplished something that I can stand back and admire. YEA! Then I looked around to decide what needed to be done next. My desk, inside and out, was a must. My filing cabinet just off the kitchen is also needing some organization. I tend to just take papers, bills and whatnot and just shove them in drawers and piles until I've got a serious case of organized chaos. I can live with it, but, after a while, it tends to grate on my nerves. So, today, I got started.

The top of my desk was a complete mess, even though I knew where everything was. Pictures the kids make for me just keep piling up so they all got put in a keepsake box. I had another pile of stuff that actually needed to be filed but I couldn't really file them until I cleaned out the little filing cabinet. That was the fun part. I went through it, file by file, and tossed nearly everything. I had booklets saved from electronic items and kids' toys I'd once bought, but no longer have; resumes that haven't been used in over eight years; car repair receipts for vehicles that were sold long ago; and much more. I laughed at myself for keeping so much that I would never use again.

Part of it is because I'm just lazy about that kind of chore. It's tedious. Part of it is because, whenever I throw anything away, I inevitably need it a short time later. It never fails. Now, though, if anyone calls me about a replaced exhaust system for the 1990 Chevy Cavalier, or the instructions for the Fisher Price Kick and Play, they're out of luck. Everything has been thrown in the dumpster and I will not, under any circumstances, fish it out. They'd have to pay me some big bucks to get me to go dumpster diving for paperwork that's over four years old.

With that done, tomorrow I embark on yet another endeavor - the big filing cabinet: the one just off the kitchen that I mentioned previously. That, I know, is crammed with old bills, kids' artwork, magazines from who-knows-when and I can't even guess what else. That's a chore in itself but, once it's done, I can actually use it for filing. I'm excited about that prospect. More room is always a good thing.

I'll save the best for last, though. It's Friday's job. My bedroom closet hasn't been cleaned out in a very long time, and, rather than asking me what's on the floor of it, it's better to ask me what's not on the floor of it. I can't wait to find out what sort of forgotten treasures are lurking beneath the blankets and sheets that won't fit in the linen closet. Maybe I'll find something worth money - like a genuine Picasso, or something of that nature. I seriously doubt it, but, you never can tell. The excitement and anticipation are growing by the minute. I just hope I don't let me down. :)