I thought I’d take the weekend to get a handle on the fifty thousand aspects of my life which are slowly spinning out of my grasp, and then by tonight I’d be feeling so much more in control of everything.
(Also, a blind man walks into a bar. He says, “Ouch!”)
Anyway, I stepped away from the computer for two whole days, and my life is still… well… whatever it is. So apparently I cannot blame any of my current issues on blogging. Which is too bad, because 1) that would be easy to fix and 2) it’s always entertaining to read someone blogging about blogging, or, alternatively, reading the phone book.
I have a new leaky pipe. Rather, it’s been a bit leaky for a while and I was trying to WILL it into behaving. And while my magical powers appear to extend to real estate listings, they are all tapped out when it comes to the plumbing here at Ye Olde Money Pit. Despite my best efforts and eleventy trips down to the basement to check on the status of said pipe, it’s STILL LEAKING. Bastard.
For those keeping score at home, this would make my third plumbing issue in as many months. I’m not saying that God hates me, I’m just saying I think I may have pissed him off.
In other news, if you are a friend of mine, you have two choices in how to interact with me right now. If you live far away and haven’t been in touch for a long time, this weekend was your time to call me out of the blue and catch up. As a bonus, if you’re in the hospital, this will score you a care package from me. Nothing says “Gosh I really do love you and miss you and feel badly that we haven’t talked for six months and that now you’re stuck in the hospital” than a box full of cheesy novels and bright red nail polish.
If you’re a local friend of mine, I missed the memo (I am always missing these important announcements, dammit), but now that I have about four months left before The Big Move, it’s time to blow me off. I mean, why wait until I’m gone? Let’s just start avoiding each other now. That’s easier than dealing with any pesky feelings, after all.
(Yes, I know they love me. Yes, I know this may be temporary. No, I am not particularly feeling the love right now.)
Today after church I took the kids to see Bridge to Terabithia, which became an all-day extravaganza. The problem was that we were meeting a friend of Chickadee’s there, and a friend of Monkey’s was being dropped here at the house.
Monkey hasn’t had a playdate in a really long time, mostly because his behavior has been so unpredictable this year. And the excitement of having a friend! Come to the house! And then to the movies! With us! Well, it nearly caused his adorable little brain to implode. Fortunately for him—unfortunately for me—Monkey’s friend is a kindred spirit: the two of them bounced off the walls here at home until we got into the car.
There was a brief scuffle as we got everyone situated. Chickadee sat in the center seat. That’s a small space, anyway, but between two boosters it requires a bit of a contortion act to get belted in, there. (And when I have three kids in the car, and two boosters, the oldest child sits in the middle while the younger ones stay in the boosters. This is completely logical, but can be problematic when two hyper boys are separated only by an irritated older sister.)
Me: Okay, is everyone buckled?
Friend of Monkey: This is very crowded. You should consider a minivan.
Me: Ummm, yes, well, ordinarily I only have two kids in here. And minivans are expensive.
Monkey: I have a dinosaur! ROAR!
FoM: Can I see it, Monkey?
Monkey: Sure! *Monkey passes it over by making the dino walk across Chickadee’s head*
Chickadee: Can we have some music, please?
FoM: Let’s pretend he’s like those guys in Star Wars!
Chickadee: He doesn’t even know what you’re talking about. We haven’t SEEN Star Wars.
FoM: AaaaAAAArrrGGHHHH *walks the dinosaur across Chickadee’s head back to Monkey*
Monkey: This dinosaur says something SMELLS here inbetween us. *pokes Chickadee*
FoM: Yeah, what IS that? *pokes Chickadee*
Me: Boys, hands to yourselves, please.
Chickadee: Can you turn the music up, please?
*the boys gesture to each other and then simultaneously start poking Chickadee in the head*
Chickadee: This is not enjoyable.
Everyone did make it to the theater alive. Barely.
After the movie, Chickadee went home with her friend to play for a while, and Monkey and I dropped his friend at home with promises to have an at-home playdate sometime soon.
And because I went out of my way to make it a really nice day for the kids—even spending a million dollars on actual! movie! theater! popcorn!—both of them told me how much they love me and how grateful they are. Monkey did so by complaining that he was “so bored” about two minutes after we dropped his friend off, and Chickadee had a full-fledged meltdown here at home where her head spun around and she levitated while I tried to tie her to the bed. It was simply lovely. What a wonderful reminder that no good deed goes unpunished!
So, somehow, that was the weekend. Throw in four loads of laundry and a bit of cleaning, and there you have it. Also I went to bed at 9:30 last night and slept until 8:00 this morning. Almost like I was really tired, or something. Go figure.
Oh, I did do one more thing this weekend. I bought Chickadee a wedding dress. Er, not a dress for her to get married in. That would probably be creepy. A dress for her to wear while I get married. It’s going to look stunning against the jeans and t-shirt I’ll be wearing.