May 2016

This is how I feel

This is how I feel

My Very Bad Days

So the saga continues.  After a late night drive to Indianapolis and the washer calling it quits I continue to preserver or as I like to call it, surviving some of the not so great days so I can blog about it for karma.

Wednesday:  The actual last day of school until fall.  Wednesday was #4, #5, and #6’s last day of school.  They actually got up on time and were at school on time.  This is a rare occurrence and I’m glad that it only took till the last day of school for this to happen.   I take the car to the shop and am told it will only be a couple of hours.  I go home and managed to get the washer to spin my comforter enough to be able to thrown it in the dryer.  I have slept with a Bubble Guppies comforter for the last two nights and am slowly going insane.

#3 and #4 help me to look at the washer again.  Hope that it’s just the drain that is plugged up.  It’s not.  Take the top off of the washer.  Don’t know what I’m looking at but nothing looks out of place or not plugged in.  Time to call for a washer repairman to fix this.  Remind myself to never buy a front loading washing machine again.  They are evil.  Look cool, but totally evil much like chocolates.

Car shop calls.  Of course there is another repair to be made.  And it might take a little longer than expected.   Four hours later and no call backs from any appliance repairman.  Shop calls.  Car is done.  Did I know that my window won’t roll up?  Well, I do now.

$400 later and I have my car back.  She drives fine. I honestly don’t notice a difference.  S.O. is at work until 9pm so I am stuck with children who are way more excited over summer vacation than I am.  Frozen pizza for dinner and wait for relief to finally arrive.  It never does.

Thursday morning:  Finally, washer repairmen calls back.  He’ll be out in a couple of hours.  The laundry is starting to mock me and may have become sentient.  Bank account is looking bad.   Summer vacation is not starting off well.  And, the children decided to wake up on their own at 7:30 in the morning.  They couldn’t manage that at all during the school year but the first day of Summer Vacation and up they are.

I have decided to not even acknowledge that this is happening.  Hopefully my washer gets fixed, the kids sleep in, and I can pretend that this has all been just a very bad movie.

Washer repairman is very kind.  He pronounces that it is not dead, just badly injured.  One drain pump and $200 later and now it is working.  I get to do laundry which I am never happy about but grateful we will all have clean clothes and not have to fashion underpants out of leaves.

Bank account is looking even worse.  I realize I haven’t even gotten groceries.  We can live off of ramen and icing for the next couple of days, right?

I have survived for now.  I even have a clean house because without laundry to do for the last three days, I have a lot more free time to vacuum and move toys from room to room.  Who knew?  #1 is back from California safe and sound.  #2 is doing well at his job and may drop by to actually visit sometime in the near future.  #3 was a huge help and even offered to buy me ice cream last night when I started to have a break down over everything.  #4 and #5 are oblivious because this isn’t a video game.  #6 is enjoying being home and #7 is ecstatic that all of his brothers and sister are home with him instead of boring mom.

I think I may survive the week.  And it’s a three day weekend so I have that going for me.  Oh, wait, scratch that, makes no difference.   I stopped having weekends off when my tyrannical toddler bosses arrived.  Enjoy your week everyone!  I’ll be the mom crying to herself in the corner while sorting socks!

 

(I realize that other people have it way worse and thank god we actually had the funds available to fix the things that were broken.  I am glad that we are all healthy (relatively) and happy (subjective) but I still could have done without 95% of the crap that happened this week. )

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mom, week from hell, bad day

Exactly how my morning went

It’s only Thursday and I have already had the week from hell.  This does not bode well for the rest of this holiday weekend coming up.   I am only exaggerating a little bit when I say that I’ve had a bad week and I know that it could always be worse, but I still would like a do-over.  It has been so bad that I am splitting this post in two installments:  my bad day and my very bad day.

My Bad Days

On Monday I had to clean the house because it was horribly disgusting from not doing anything all weekend but go to graduation parties and ceremonies and honestly, not picking up.  I tried to get caught up on laundry and put in a good effort.  I even managed to wash my sheets and comforter.  I had to take #1 to the airport in Indianapolis for a day trip to California because I’m mommy and her car is broke down.  She didn’t get off work till 5:30 so I figured I had plenty of time to get everything done.   Hah!  The more you have to do, the less time you have to do it in.  Sheets were washed and dried and put on bed but comforter was still in the wash when #1 called and said that she needed me to pick her up from work, if that was okay.

Then, she-who-shall-not-be-named-but-who-could-be-my-little-sister, bailed on riding over to Indy with me.  At the last minute.  In a text message.  Great, now I get to drive for 2 hours back home at night with no company except #6 & #7.  Not that they are not great company but I can only talk about Sofia and Harry Potter for so long because I feel like I’m going to have an aneurism.  Plus, I can’t listen to my music without #6 complaining and whining that the Go-Go’s are no Taylor Swift.  She’s right.  The Go-Go’s are better!

I pick up #1 after leaving instruction for #4 to throw my comforter in the dryer.  S.O. is working so much overtime that he won’t be home until after 8 and I figured that he would appreciate having a nice, clean, dry comforter to sleep with.   #1 has to pick up her bag at her house and then off to Indy we go.

The drive over was fine.  Indy is basically all interstate and flat so it’s not interesting but at least it’s not driving to Chicago.  #6 stayed awake the entire time and never once stopped talking while #7 napped for an hour.  We ate at a Waffle House (shout out to my Mississippi family, woo hoo) which turns out to only be good food if you have been in a bar for several hours before eating.  Sober eating, ehh, not so much.  We get #1 to her hotel so she can catch her flight at 5:30 in the morning and off we go to head back home.

Now, in my delirious mind of not enough caffeine and too much conversation revolving around Nick Jr, I believed that #6 and #7 would sleep on the way back home.  It was about 10:30 at night and a good hour past the time they are normally slumbering in their beds.   No such luck.  They were awake and alert and hyper and talking so loud that cars next to me on the interstate could probably hear them.

About an hour into the ride home I realized that #6’s kindergarten picnic was in the morning and that I had not picked up the items that I was supposed to bring.  Two plastic pitchers and a groovy pair of sunglasses.  Great.  Google Maps directed me to the nearest Walmart and so it was at 11:30 at night (12:30 Indiana time) that I dragged #6 and #7 through a Walmart in a strange town and state.  It was not a great experience.

Once the pitchers and glasses had been purchased, along with several other things that I didn’t need but hey, when in Rome, back on the road to home.  I never was as glad as when they finally passed out 20 miles from home.   And what do I find when I get home?  A sopping wet comforter.  Yep, my washing machine decided that it had one too many loads of laundry and decide to crap out.  Yay, me.  At least Monday was over.

Tuesday dawned too early and way to bright.  I dropped off my procured items from the midnight run to Walmart and headed to town to run my usual Tuesday errands.  At which point I realized that I had only 2 hours to get errands done because school was ending at 11 instead of 3.

At the same time S.O. calls to remind me that the wheel bearing needs replaced on the car and that he couldn’t do it because of his work schedule so would I make an appointment tomorrow to get it fixed.  Yep, sure can.  I get to the school on time, pick up #6 and go home to work on the washer.

It is pretty much screwed.  So after spending about 4 hours on it, and sweating and seeing the laundry piling up, I call it a day.  I am exhausted and tired and just want the day to end.

So far, not great but not as bad as it will get.  Stay tuned for my adventures in exhaustion, kids, and no working washer.  Plus a car that needs repaired.

 

( Nothing against Indianapolis, people.  It’s a lovely town full of midwest sentiment.  It’s easy to navigate and family friendly plus they have a great Zoo!  Just a really boring drive there and back.)

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And now time for my crazy cat lady post.  I have always had cats.  We weren’t a huge dog family but I can remember my first cat.  Midnight.  She was black (I wasn’t always that imaginative) and she did more to boost the feral cat population than any other cat I knew.  This was back in the 70’s and my parents obviously did not care about spaying and neutering their animals.  I would sneak her in my bedroom at night and cuddle with her.   I learned how babies were born from watching her labor in my closet on my clothes.  This is good reason why my kids don’t gross me out.

 

The second cat I had was named Daiquiri.  I am really starting to question my parent’s choices and why it was appropriate for a 10 year old to name her cat after a delicious frozen adult beverage.  She hated everyone but me and my dad tried to give her away but she always found her way back to me.  I don’t remember her ever having kittens so it’s a good possibility that she was actually spayed.

 

Daiquiri was followed by Warlock (who was female),  several Tigger’s, Fluffy Mittens, Taucun and an assortment of other felines that either ran away or met a fate that equaled death in the busy road in front of our house.   Finally, there was Billy Meow.  He was my favorite cat of all time.  Black and white long haired with big green eyes.  He was my companion until he passed away at 15.  I swore I wouldn’t have another cat for a long time.

My daughter has also had an assortment of cats.  They all seemed to be barn cats that never adjusted to life indoors.  They had names like Reverend Seamus, Schmooshmortion, Mumra, and Dogbait.  They sprayed, peed, pooped everywhere but in the litter box.  They tore up things and were hissing angry beasts that only wanted to spread misery.  They weren’t micers and they weren’t particularly attractive.  They found homes after several attempts to domesticate them.

 

One day my best friend from grade school let me know that she had two kittens, a grey girl and little black boy with a white spot who needed a home.  I felt it was time to get another cat.  We were going to get the little girl and make her part of the family.

 

#5 went with me.  She was a beautiful little thing, all big green eyes and soft fuzzy gray fur.  Her name would be Emma.  Her little brother was too cute to leave all alone without his littermate.  So we also brought home Ivan the Purrible.  Emma was cuddly and sweet and Ivan loved nothing more than to be petted and purr.  When they were old enough we made an appointment to get them spayed and neutered.  Bob Barker would have been proud.

 

The day before Emma’s vet appointment I discovered that she had a bulge underneath her tail.  And that is how Emma became Gus.  My beautiful precious grey girl was a boy.  How I never noticed, I have no idea.  I had to call the vet and let them know that it would actually be two boys getting neutered.  They hid their laughter well.  #6 was devastated and begged for Gus to go back to being Emma.  She got a very early lesson in biology.

cat, kids, family

Gus Gus the Transgendered Cat

It does seem that as soon as Gus became Gus his temperament changed as well.  Gone was the sweet little ball of fur who only wanted to be held.  In its place was an aloof cat who only wanted fed and left alone.  He would only want attention when it was 2 a.m. or when I was doing work on the computer.  He was a cat.  His brother Ivan on the other hand still only wants loved on.  He will nip on fingers and toes until his petting obsession is done.  He will walk on your face, climb on your shoulders and weave in between your legs in an attempt to make you notice him.  He is more like a dog than a cat.  He tears up toilet paper and shreds it better than the government hiding facts.   He leaves us dead mice and an occasional bird to show us he loves us.   Gus eats his dead things and leaves the hind end.  Go figure.

Ivan the Purrible

Ivan the Purrible

I am done with cats.  I love our two boys and will mourn their passing when they finally leave us to go to kitty heaven.  And then maybe we should just get a bird.  Or a season pass to the zoo.

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