It all started around midnight--when the storms
rolled through. My adamant “no a/c” rule meant a midnight scramble to
shut all the windows. Next, my bleeding heart started to worry about the
puppies. Paul tried to convince me they
were fine but when he realized there would be no rest for me until I knew for
sure he threw on some shoes and with a heavy sigh he donned a raincoat to tramp
into the lightning, thunder, and pouring rain. At nearly 1 am he carried
in four perfectly dry, safe and half asleep puppies. A look of “I told you so” was not easily
hidden from his face. But because he loves me so he said nothing. Having no
prepared place for the puppies we kicked Watson, the weenie dog, out of his
kennel for the night.
We returned to our bedroom to find that the 1
year old and 3 year old had situated themselves perfectly over the entire bed.
Rather than risk waking them up the most appropriate thing seemed to be
to simply squish ourselves into the lower ⅕ of the bed at their feet. We got along
fine like this for about an hour before one of them woke up and demanded to be
soothed which landed me on the outer ⅙ of the of the bed with no leg room because Paul
was still at the foot of the bed and without blankets. At some point
Watson, the freely roaming weenie dog, joined us.
I was almost happy when morning came--even if it
was to the 3 year old exclaiming merrily, “It’s morning time! Wake up! Will you
read all my favorite books to me!” We gingerly snuck out of the bed as
not to wake up Jace and Paul, who had somehow made his way to a somewhat normal
position in the bad.
Downstairs I discovered that the 17 year old,
who was sleeping close enough to the puppies to be annoyed by their incessant
whining, LET THEM OUT OF THE KENNEL!!!! Four puppies make a huge, gross,
disgusting mess. I groaned and threw a
towel over it and whined that I just wanted some coffee before I had to
adult. I made it to the kitchen but
before I could even start the coffee I discovered a weenie dog mess (remember
that cute weenie dog we found on the dirt road and I could not, for the life of
me, figure out why someone would dump such a cute dog--I KNOW WHY and have
often threatened to return him to where we found him!).
I finally made it to the couch with a hot cup of
coffee, a 3 year old and a pile of picture books that I was hoping I could fake
it through. Why are kids so smart!
Why do they know when you don’t really want to but insist you do! In nothing short of a miracle, I found the
ipad (which had been missing for a couple of days) stuffed in the couch
cushions. I was so happy that he was ok with that for a moment and
then...the 1 year old turned the corner and it was all over. As I tried to find a place for the 1 year old
to sit contently with him and not spill my coffee, River managed to GET IN THE
PUPPY POOP! Having no choice but the deal with it now I offered the boys
sugary cereal and screens while I scrubbed a huge mess off our concrete floors. Being the grateful person I am, I praised God
that we had pulled the carpet up and I was cleaning concrete because “it could
have been so much worse” and then I heard a crash--Jace dropped a glass and
glass has no hope against concrete floors. Being the realist I am, I
grumbled that we had not put down appropriate flooring yet!
With all these crises I had somewhat lost track
of time and kind of hoped the kids did too. Thursdays are typically busy
mornings for us but I was praying the kids would just let their usual
activities slide and we could simply stay home, sip hot tea, read books and
enjoy the stormy day. We don’t even really drink tea but it sounded
good.
With the puppy poop and shattered glass cleaned
up I decided I earned a trip to the bathroom ALONE! But, you can’t win for
losing. My quiet bathroom solitude was abruptly interrupted by the panic
stricken (half awake) voice of the 13 year old, “Mom!!! I have work! Are we leaving
soon!”. Indeed it was ten minutes past
time to leave. I tried to follow the
“when you have nothing nice to say don’t say anything at all rule” so I sucked
in my breath and held in anything not patient, loving and kind that I wanted to
say. She continued, panicked, “Mom!!!
Mom!!! It’s time to go!”. Realizing she wasn’t going to stop talking to
me I simply replied, wearily, “Ok.” I
found her standing outside the door in the hall, lips still poofy from sleep,
hair matted to her face, eyes still droopy and in her pajamas.
I quietly headed to my room to get dressed
(because my sweet husband was still sleeping) and what did I find--another dog
mess. I cleaned it up with all the integrity and not a single cuss word
(insert sarcasm that I’m not that good at using). As I went to slip on my flip flops (because
I’m classy like that) I slipped my foot into pee. The dog peed on my shoes. Will there be NO mercy on me today!
We managed to all make it to the van and head to
town. I decided I would add “Super-Wife” to my list of titles before 10
am and save Paul from the horror of no sugar in his coffee. Not a minute
after getting the sugar and dropping Hallie off at work my fuel light came on
and I grumbled at my husband because isn’t it his job to make sure this kind of
thing doesn’t happen to me. I figured I could make it home without getting
fuel but might as well stop now. However
in an effort to avoid hearing the boys cry for juice (Because they think if you
get gas they get juice) I went to the more inconspicuous grocery store with
fuel pumps. Kids are so smart.
River said, “When Dad gets gas here he gets me juice.” Well, I’m not your daddy! Also, I haven’t brushed my teeth yet so I’m
not going into the store.
Because the day is thus far merciless, the fuel
pump would not read my card and rather than go inside I decide I can just make
it home without fuel. As I’m driving off, I notice an older gentleman
waving frantically at me. He so kindly
closed my gas tank for me since I had forgotten! And then River began, “Mom, theres Sonics!
Can we go to Sonics.” and I just couldn’t fight anymore plus the way he
says Sonics is cute. And the carhops
stand far enough away from you that they surely would not know that I had not
brushed my teeth yet. I ordered 2 small tator tots for the boys and when
the car hop delivered them River was still crying, “I want a big tator tot not
little ones!” As annoying as it was I
think it kept her from creeping to close to me.
It turns out he was just as happy with a little
tater tot as a big one--the 6 mile drive home was almost silent as they sat
eating their Sonics tater tots. But the peace could not last too
long. Once home I accidentally unbuckled
Jace first and in defiant response River refused to get out of the car since
“that is his job.” I had really reached the point that I had no coping skills
left for gentle parenting in me and my parents started spewing out of me, “If
you don’t get out of this car by the time I get to 3 you are getting a
spanking!” He dug his heels in, crossed his arms and said nothing. I took
a deep breath, “River, I’m sorry I forgot to let you unbuckle Jace. You can do it next time.” And just like that he got out of the car as
happy as a lark.
We rounded the corner of the front door just in
time to greet Paul--who without words seemed to be saying, “I wonder how much
trouble I’m in for sleeping in so late.” I handed him the bag of sugar
and with a smile said, “You are married to the greatest wife in the world.”
