Someone stop this bullet train - I sorta wanna get off...
5:30 AM last Friday - the man gets up to pack for his trip. Guess who else is up as a result.
"Oh shit, I forgot to pick this up. Do you think you can do me a favour and get the stuff later today when that place is open? Wait, let me check and see if I can catch a later flight...no, there aren't any more...so can you do me a huge favour and get them today and send them by Fedex so I can receive them on Monday?"
Yeah, sure, like I don't have another 10 million things to do.
"Okay. But you'll owe me big time."
So at 6 AM after the man's taken off to the airport, I'm surfing the net to figure out where the closest Fedex depot is, and also to figure out my itinerary for how I'm going to get this stuff done in the period between work and my hair appt (yes, since I haven't had one in forever) and get to the kids on time.
After all, we have a soccer game that night.
And then soccer on Sunday. And then soccer on Monday.
Piano on the Tuesday - but I let them play hooky. Not really for them (although since they hadn't practiced all week, it saved me some money), but more of a reprieve for me. I had to get to the gym to work off the stress. Tuesday was a good day, actually, Kids got their progress reports - the Boy got all E's (excellent) and the Girlie got all G's (good). I dropped them off with Grandma, smiles all around.
When I picked them up, it was bigger smiles all around. Seems Grandma rewarded them for their awesome reports with cold hard cash.
Wednesday - surprise, soccer again.
It's not so much just the driving - it's the "leaving work at 5:30pm-picking the kids up, cooking and feeding them and getting to soccer by 6:30- -for pick up again at 8 PM, putting to bed, getting breakfast in the morning and making their lunch and snacks in the morning before I head out for work -to do it all over again..." thing that is killing me. That and about 5 loads of laundry, 3 loads of dishes and grocery shopping in between for good measure, just to add to the excitement.
So back to Wednesday -when I picked the kids up, the Boy tells me he has a wicked stomach-ache, a bad experience in the washroom and feels like he's gonna hurl. Lovely.
There goes soccer - which normally would have been okay. Except that I had planned to drop him off and take the girlie down to the gymnastics place to put a deposit down for her upcoming birthday party, then head back to get him. Of course this place is only open on alternate days, and this was the only time they were open late on a weekday. And if there's one thing I know about party places, if they've got an opening on a day that we DON'T have soccer, I gotta grab it.
Nice Mom that I am, I tell the Boy that if he's got any control over the situation whatsoever, that it would be a really, really bad day for him to be sick tomorrow, as Mom had a bunch of really, really important meetings with her boss and other important people. "I'm sorry Mom, I hope so, I'll see how I feel..."
Then I made them a quick dinner, started in on the math homework with the whiny sick feeling kid, listening to him complain about the utter uselessness of graphs in the real world... and noticed that the girlie had passed out after a long day at the zoo. Looked at the time - geez, the place closes in half an hour....
Loaded them up in the van, raced down to the party place, got the thumbs up from the girlie that it would be a suitable venue...raced back uptown, ran a bath for the girlie while her brother sat down to finish his math....ran down to check on him only to find him passed out on the dining room chair.
Geez, let's get him into bed.
Got him into bed. Got her milk after her bath, got her into bed... and poured myself a lovely glass of Pinot Grigio and spent the rest of the evening with that in hand, a couple of Halloween size packs of Ruffles chips, and some PVR'd episodes of The Good Wife.
Splendid. Last drop of alcohol in the house and it was mine. Things were looking up.
Thursday morning - the Boy is up! He is downstairs! He is finishing his homework. He is getting dressed and sitting down at the piano to PRACTICE!!!
"You were right Mom, I feel a lot better this morning. This math isn't so bad!!!"
The Girlie is in fine form too. "Mama, I know what I want to wear. Is it time to go to school yet?"
Saw them off on the school bus, coast was clear.
At the office, I get thinking about how the boy's cough from July, for which we got medicine last month, still hasn't cleared up. Maybe I should make an appointment to see the doc for Friday, when they're off from school. I'm so organized that I manage to call and make the appointment at exactly the time that I want, and just before I had to go to my first meeting of the day.
I get back to the office around 12 noon. I see the red flashing on my phone, and just as I go to pick it up to check my messages, my cell phone rings.
This sad, sickly voice on the other end: "Mom, we were playing tag at recess and Adam jumped off the monkey bars, wasn't looking and he kicked me in the face with his foot. I feel dizzy..."
You've got to be f*cking kidding me.
"Well, Mommy just made an appointment for you to see the doctor tomorrow. Can you hang in there , just a few more hours? I can get you after school. We can check you out tomorrow if it doesn't get better. Can I talk to the secretary?"
The secretary comes on:" We put some ice on it. It's a little bruised. Let me put it this way, he will survive. You know your son best."
Yeah, considering he's been in the office about 3 times in the last 3 weeks complaining of this, that and the other, and each time I come running in and bring him to the doctor...I know my son. I know he will survive, and gets miraculously better as soon as we leave the doctor's office.
So I tell him I'll get him later. And 15 minutes later, feeling totally like Mother of the Year (drip, drip), I call the school back to tell him I'll bring him to work with me. Potential head injury - after all. The guilt lies heavily with me.
I wolf down lunch, drive to the school, bring him back and leave him in my office and ask my new assistant (yay!!!) to keep a watch in case he needs anything, and go to another 2 hour meeting.
Leave work early with him as he says he's feeling faint (I know he's starving now and just bored), get to school to pick up the girlie, indulge her wish to check out the book fair, get pissed off at her with measured words through a clenched jaw, while she has a hissy fit when I refuse to buy her a $17 pack of stickers (throws her coat on the floor, tears, all that...what the????)...buy her a $5 book and more silly bandz ... and then get home to cook again.
Of course before I do that, I get the girl her milk, tell the boy to stay off the Xbox, watch them both sulk at me while I rush to get changed and indulge myself a couple of minutes for a quick cry in my closet.
So right now I sit, with my sausage, spinach and pesto pasta, wishing that my son would get off his iTouch, quit coughing and come down for dinner to get rid of the hunger that is giving him even more of a headache. I'm also yelling at my daughter to eat her dinner as she sits in the study in front of the other computer playing on Barbie.com.
All I want to do is vent, vent, vent this all out so that when my husband walks through the door later this evening, after not seeing me for a week, his first sight of me won't be a launch at him like a wicked bitch-bat out of hell. Again. That's who I've been the whole last ... what, year????
I figure I've got to show some nice ... (I did miss him a lot while he was away, and not just because he's great at playing interference between me and the kids) ... before we go through this all again tomorrow, with the parent-teacher interviews, the doctor, the traffic, the soccer...
PS: I know this is all so, so, trivial. I did take the time out today at 11 AM for a moment of silence to honour the soldiers of past and present, who put their lives on the line so that we do have the freedom that allows for the busy, extra-curricular life my family enjoys. Because it is a life that we are indeed very lucky to have.
I do know that. Still, it was good to have that grounding moment of the day.