Thursday, May 21, 2015

Then on Sunday my kids decided to act bad..... volume 4

I was trying to post this and right behind my head, ..... y'all.... RIGHT. BEHIND. MY. HEAD.  the power line transformer exploded in my backyard.... which was a sign that this post was not meant to be shared with the masses.  However... I'm gonna leave it here for those of you who drop by.  Because maybe you've had a week like mine.....
 So this is it for the week.....

Right now I'm on a serious mission to remove sugar from my diet -  once again -  because I let the devil take hold for a while.  That, and I got a look at an 80 year old former Playboy bunny who writes a fashion blog and looks more than amazing.... and knew it was time to kick things up a notch.  Going sugar free may totally make me the meanest woman on the planet... but with lean, sculpted arms.

Yesterday I ran into Fireman Dave and the entire engine crew at the grocery store.  Actually I was driving down the street and they turned in the parking lot right in front of me - so like most women who dream of one day meeting a handsome fireman in the produce section, I followed them.  Luckily I was cleaned and showered so I managed to catch one and claim him as my own.  

And I took pictures of the house exactly the way I found it when I came home from work one day earlier in the week.  And I'm bravely sharing ... because maybe your house looks like mine on an ordinary day.  Like a porthole to hell opened up and uninvited guests had a party in my den. It was just one of those boys at home a lot, friends over, sick dog, while mom and dad are at work kind of weeks that just rips my heart right from my body when I walk in and find what's waiting for me. 

Last Friday we had a plumbing disaster... sandwiched perfectly between way late in the afternoon and a ceremony honoring next year's incoming middle schoolers, kid 3 being on that list.  The dishwasher was running, the washing machine was running, and husband tried to use the garbage disposal which then flooded the laundry room floor.  And then he had a nervous breakdown and began hours of sweating.  

Then he spoke with his presumptuous man voice and asked me what I put down the drain.  So then I shot some eye daggers his way and asked him what he put down the drain.  

But being a hero, he ran to Home Depot, rented something, and went outside to the main thing.... the thing.... and sweatily worked on it to save us hundreds of dollars.  And he would every now and then yell at me to turn on the water.  And then make a throat slitting move -  signaling that he either wanted me to turn off the water, or kill me in my sleep.  But he fixed it, showered and got dressed in time to make it to the school ceremony in time to hear kid 3's name called.  All while continually wiping his sweaty head with a napkin.

Then we all went out to eat and everyone acted nice.  Except for the dog who stayed home and massively threw up on 2 different rugs.  Which had to be hauled outside to be washed and dried and they still haven't made it back on the floors yet.  

Then on Sunday my kids decided to act bad.  There's currently a horror movie deal in the works to recount those moments.  

Which brings me to Monday and to rug #3.  More dog throw up when I got home from work.  And I had to wait for help to arrive because it was the rug under my grandmother's antique table that weighs about 900 pounds...  I also slipped on the wet pool deck and bruised my knee in senior water aerobics.  Happy Monday.

And I now have 3 kids who have discovered minds of their own.  Kid 1 has decided that he doesn't have to tell me when he leaves the house, and when he went missing on Sunday afternoon, I found him at the elementary school on the swings drinking a Dr Pepper.  Which is one step away from a park bench and a bottle in a brown paper  bag.  

And I understand the need for alone time and for things that belong only to you.  And in a house this size, especially the mess it's been this week.... I may feel like sitting on a swing and drinking my cares away as well.  But I'm trying to get him to understand that he hasn't crossed the line to adulthood yet ... and with growing up comes increased responsibility.  And that includes respecting your parents enough to keep them informed.  Or in other words.... don't make mama get in the car and hunt you down.

Kid 2 has his moments of 13 year old sass that make him think he can challenge me in an eye rolling contest.   And kid 3 hates me because he wants to go on a trip to California - on a bus - alone - to some inner city church convention that he heard about on a flyer.  And the answer was a big no.  And maybe an Are you crazy or something? thrown in there with it.  

But I'm in it to the end, or the death.  Speaking of, here's a note I found in my bedroom this week.  I'm pretty sure it was slipped under the door during the Sunday melee when kids 2 and 3 barricaded themselves in there, hiding from kid 1.  (And the kid that wrote it totally can't spell and I'm wondering how he made it all the way through the 8th grade)

I have no words to top this. 

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