I can’t seem to get through one complete room without the vacuum clogging.  At first it just gets a little louder.  I ignore that.  Then it sounds like legos are rattling around in there somewhere.  I try to ignore that, too.  (And, not it’s not legos.  The legos are all in Jack’s room and you can’t vacuum in a room where the carpet isn’t visible.)

It’s when the vacauum cleaner starts spitting all the carpet fuzz back out at me that I have to give up.  I mean, what’s the use in vacuuming when you’re spreading dirt rather than cleaning it up?

I keep hearing the Dyson guy’s accented voice in my head proclaiming that a Dyson vacuum won’t ever clog.  Wanna bet?

Anyway, I guess vacuuming will have to wait until Dan gets home and can unclog the darn thing.  I tried, and got a large dog’s worth of synthetic fur out of it, but it’s still clogged.  I’d hate to keep at it and break the darn thing and never be able to vacuum again.  *Ahem*

This morning, Luke and Sam were the first ones up (as usual).  They came downstairs, ran into the kitchen and Luke informed me that he’d brought his clothes and Sam’s clothes downstairs.  That way, Luke explained, I could help them get dressed without having to go upstairs!  Lukie even thought to bring a diaper for his brother.  Sweet.

Then you want to strangle them…

After dropping Jack and Maria at school this morning, I resumed my work in our backyard.  I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but the previous owners let a lot of weeds and wild bushes grow up around the side and back of the garage.  In addition, they so thoughtfully left us a huge mound of… dirt/debris/trash/glass, etc. back there.  I’ve been working to dig up all the roots, pull up weeds, throw away the trash and smooth things out.  It’s a LOT of work.

Anyhow, as I worked, The Little Boys played.  They threw sticks for the dog, dug in the dirt and played some imaginary games.  Occasionally, things would get out of hand… someone would throw dirt in the hair of the other.  Luke and Cheerio fought over a stick (Cheerio won).  Basically, though, I was able to get some work done and they were able to get in some outdoor playtime (yay fence!)

However.

As I was toiling away at some cedar roots (damn, those are a bitch), I heard an awful lot of silliness going on.  The we’re-doing-something-we’re-not-supposed-to-be-doing kind of silliness.

I peeked around the corner of the garage and found them grabbing ash from the Weber grill by the handfuls and dumping it onto Cheerio’s back.  Then rubbing it in.  (That blasted dog will get attention any way she can.)

Needless to say Sam was covered from head to toe with ash.  As was Luke.  No need to comment on the dog.

Furious, I put both boys in timeout along the new fence.  As Luke claimed to disown me as a mother and Sam cried, I put some more work in.  It’s amazing how much stronger you are when you’re pissed.

After the longest timeout they’ve ever had, I finished up for the morning and ordered them to the back deck to strip.  I marched them to the basement shower (the only working one) and ordered them clean.

Now I just have to deal with the dog, dammit.

“Mom? Do you know what my favorite letter is?”

(For some reason I just assumed it would be “J” for Jack. I mean, don’t you think that most kindergarteners’ favorite letter is the first letter of their name? Heck, I think that goes for most people in general – no matter what their age.)

Rather than guessing, though, I just asked Jack, “What’s your favorite letter?”

“It’s ‘D’. Do you want to know why?”

“Why?”

“Because ‘D’ is for DIRT! And I LOVE dirt!”

Once Sam can talk, I have a feeling we might be having a similar conversation…

Be sure to click on the picture so you can get a good close up view.