Recipe For Freakness

I am a freak.

You should figure that much about me by now.

I do pity BDD, as he has to witness the majority of my freakness.

Sometimes freakness is a good GOOD thing.

Sometimes, not so much.

Take when we are having a new babysitter come over to sit for the boys for the first time.

I get quite, well, FREAKY!

Forget about the fact that I've known this girl for awhile now, as she is one of Sullivan's HS student Child Development teachers. She is a darling High School student who without a doubt works her little Jewish Tushie off. Yes, you read right, there is actually another Jewish family living in this very Christian town. Take note and please while you're telling everyone about this amazing discovery, please include a ring ring to my mother in law.

I have this picture in my head that my dear mother in law views our town as an elephant running bible thumping extremely conservative place, where the first person to land on the moon-er, town soil of Jewish descent, was in fact her son.

Well, not really!
But when I get freaky, I tend to get dramatic too.

Bear with me.

So, this sitter, she'll be "in charge" of our three boys this evening. So my BDD and I can go and enjoy some Greek food-SLURP! and conversation that most likely will take us down the road to child rearing, but that's okay. Because, it will be conversation not met with interruptions.

I'm so excited to be able to go out for a dinner date sans children, that I am even willing to have a discussion about the different metrics of boy toddler poops.

But because this will be her first time here, I have launched myself into this frenetic freakshow of a woman, cleaning the house literally from top to bottom...

BIGDOGG: "Why are you organizing your sock drawer, Elizabeth?"
ME: "uh, because the sitter is coming tomorrow night, and I have to get ready."

BIGDOGG: "get ready for what?

ME: "well, say during the boys bedtime snack, Ben throws his sippy cup off the highchair, and what if it happens to hit Sullivan's good night glass that is on the table. The glass tips, the drink spills over the floor, and the sitter, not used to the craziness that only this household can bring, while bending down to pick up Ben's cup, she steps in the wet mess that was once considered Sullivan's goodnight drink. Therefore having a wet sock, and being utterly grossed out over the wet sock, she pulls open my sock drawer, my nice CLEAN sock drawer that has readily shown folded up,matching socks with the ones that have the holes stuck neatly in the back.

BIGDOGG: "unreal." **Shaking his head side to side**
ME: "You never know, she could be one of those types that isn't comfortable walking around barefoot in someones home."
BIGDOGG: "So, she'd rather risk her own mental issues of barefootitis, by going thru your underwear and sock drawers for a pair of clean fresh socks?"

ME: "you never know, and at least the drawers will be nice and prepared, and organized."
BIGDOGG: "you never cease to amaze me..."
ME: "What, would you have rather I said that I am intentionally straightening my top secret drawers in a certain fashion, so that I will know if she's a snooper? So that I will know if she decided to go rummaging through my drawers in hopes of finding ALL my unique top secret sex toys, instead?"

BIGDOGG: "I fear you sometimes." **walking away still thinking about the last bit about TOP SECRET SEX TOYS!**

So, yes, I tend to get a tad overdetailed when there is something new or someone new coming into our home.
This afternoon I labeled all our kitchen drawers and cabinets with pink rectangular shaped cut out pieces of paper, that read what is in each cabinet or drawer.
Figuring, should she need something quick, everything is labeled and she doesn't need to take the extra time to go searching for it.

The refrigerator is cleaned too.

I can't help it! I did the same freakish things back when we had a housekeeper.

And that is the absolute truth.

After we had Sullivan in July of 2004, we had a housekeeper come in for a few months, to help with keeping things up to par, mainly because I was yet again, enjoying the walks of life with Post partum Depression. Just so you know, I hated the fact that there was a housekeeper cleaning MY dirt off of MY floors. I like to do things myself. But it was a gift from a family member, and I can't deny the gift, right? But I did clean the house as freakishly as I could, while nursing my ever hungry Sulli off my right boob. That's right, my right boob, because he never liked my left boob. Which is a funny thing in itself because my dear Sullivan is a lefty.

Go figure.

WHY WOULD YOU EVEN WANT TO BABYSIT IN THIS HOUSE?:

I will allow our sitter to have a friend over as long as I'm aware of it ahead of time.

I will give them pages of detailed information "just in case."

I will order a pizza for them prior to us leaving.

They can drink all the pop that they want.
They can watch any movie they want.

They can play on the internet.

I do however, have "ways" of watching though so,

As long as they do a good job watching our boys, I will give them all the freedom in the world.
Plus we pay them a decent amount of money to do so.

So, yes I am a freak.

I ramble.

I am entirely way to detailed.

I go GOLDIE HAWN OVERBOARD when there is a new sitter coming to our home, and I know that it's a bit neurotic. But, that's okay, because believe it or not I can still remember what it was like babysitting when I was in high school. I can still remember the families I adored sitting for, and the families that I couldn't care less if they ever called me again.

Wanna know why??
Because I could never find where their dish towels were.

Welcome TO Crustybeef~
Pardon me, I have to go sweep the floor of our lower level crawl space now.

You never know if she'll have to go in there, you know, if there's a tornado warning or something.

SHUT UP!
By the way, I will be posting Frankie's Fabulous Baked Spaghetti Recipe in the next day or two, so come back for more, and bring empty belly's, you're going to love this recipe!!