Crazy Mondays, Vol. 3

There was the Monday my girl was sick and my boy broke his arm.

Then there was the Monday I was still sick and worn out. 

And then there was this Monday.  The worst Monday of the three so far. Easily.

Jury duty.  Ugh.

I was NOT gifted with a great deal of independence. I don't particularly enjoy driving, I hate driving in downtown areas, don't like paying for parking, or figuring out where to park.

Nor do I like doing things/going places by myself. Anything. At all. Yeah, I'm a wimp. I'm working on it. (Although not always by choice!)

So being summoned for jury duty was – and has always been – on the top of my list of things-I-never-want-to-do.

So guess who gets summoned for jury duty. Of course.

I survived, of course. And prayed my way through it, step by step.

I don't really understand why some things that are so exceedingly difficult for me to do are a breeze for someone else. Of course, I suppose there are things I breeze through without a thought that would make someone else want to crawl in a hole, too.

Even the stretch of time when we were sitting in the "jury assembly room" was stressful to me, because I wanted to just get it OVER WITH. I don't want to sit around and make small talk for an hour, I want to know whether or not I'm going to be stuck on a jury today, or if I have to come back later. And am I going to have to figure out where to go eat lunch, or will I get to go home? (I know, I know….I have a terrible attitude about it!)

After sitting for hours in a courtroom, listening to question after question about our personal lives and whether or not anything listed would have any impact on our ability to be a fair and impartial juror, I somehow managed to escape without having my name drawn for the jury. Which was something of a miracle, considering that of the 50 of us who started the day, only about 15 of us were left "uncalled."

You know how in elementary school, it's a nightmare to be the last one picked? Yeah, this was nothing like that!!

And the miracle on top of the miracle was that, as we left, we were informed that not only were we not chosen for that particular jury, we would not be needed in the "pool" for any future jury. We were just done.

Suddenly my day was a lot brighter. And I could breathe again. And my muscles relaxed. And I hiked back to my van and drove home.

By way of Target, where I picked up a new purse and a cute pair of shoes. Because stress like that needs therapy like that.

(On second thought, maybe I'm not completely opposed to shopping alone.)

So what do you suppose next Monday holds in store?

Crazy Mondays, Vol. 2

So first there was the lovely Monday that I enjoyed at home with my kids, thanks to C catching some stomach bug. And I really enjoyed the day at home. So much that I told my cousin that I wished I could do that more often. Yeah, be careful what you wish for, I know…so T1 launches himself off the brick mailbox and breaks his arm, and I end up staying home a second day. Again, I enjoyed it, although I'd rather not have to stay home for that reason again. The rest of the week was fairly busy, playing catch up at school, and by Friday afternoon, I was worn out. Sometime in the middle of my last class of the day, I realized that it was almost the weekend, and that – even better – we didn't really have any plans, and it was going to be a nice relaxing weekend! Yay! We needed that!

Again, be careful what you wish for.

By the time my husband got home, I was sick as anything…shaky, queasy, flat-out miserable. I spent the entire weekend in bed. So yes, it was relaxing, although I use that word very loosely! It's a good thing I married a man who enjoys his kids and doesn't mind fixing meals and changing diapers. Because he had to do it all…no help from me! By Sunday night I was a couple pounds lighter and definitely weaker, and sick of being in bed.

Fortunately, I had planned (after I found out my jury duty had been bumped back a week – there's "crazy Mondays, Vol.3") to take the morning off and go to an assembly at my husband's school recognizing his team's win at state. I would have been worthless at school. And to make life more interesting, Grandma had a doctor's appointment to go to, and our substitute babysitter that day (Aunt "Mamber") was down with the same lovely stomach bug…so I'd have been home with the kids again anyway.

So kids loaded in the van, Sonic picked up, and off to the high school. Whew. A lot to handle. Isn't being a mom fun?

Yep, just another manic Monday…but surely next Monday will be easier, right?

Oh, sure. By the time the next Monday was over, I was thinking that I would be more than grateful to spend the last few Mondays of the school year actually AT school….

To be continued…..

Just another manic Monday

We've been having a string of interesting-type Mondays around here. I'm thinking I'm about ready for dull and boring again.

T1's contribution to "interesting" came two weeks ago in the form of an unplanned flying leap off our brick mailbox. He says he was getting ready to sit down on the edge so he could scoot off, but he tripped. Fortunately, he tripped in the direction of the yard, as opposed to landing himself in the middle of the street.

I was inside fixing supper, and – after listening for a while to the yelling from the front yard – was headed out to tell the boys to be a little quieter, or people were going to think they were hurt. Um, duh, mom, he WAS hurt. And yes, the whole street knew about it before long. I met several new neighbors that day…not that I had enough presence of mind to remember them and their names when it was all over!

Turns out, the fall off the mailbox broke both bones in T1's forearm. My husband wasn't home yet – as a matter of fact, he was on his way to the school board meeting where they were going to recognize his team for their win at state. He didn't get to go to that board meeting. After several calls that went to voicemail and finally a text saying "emergency," he came racing home to assist. I would have sworn at the time that it took a good 45 minutes for him to finally get there, but the truth was closer to 20. It just seemed forever, since I had one kid screaming his lungs out in the front yard, and another crying her eyes out inside the house (since she kept getting shut in when I went out!). The middle child was unusually quiet, which I chalked up to the fact that she was watching a DVD, but later realized probably had more to do with the fact that she was getting sick to her stomach again.

Once my husband got home, I was able to settle my brain down long enough to figure out that a couple of wooden spoons would work to make a splint, using the bandages that a dad down the street had brought to us, and we were able to get T1 off the ground and into the car, headed for the ER. I fed the girls, then dropped them at Grandma's so I could get to the ER myself, where I discovered he wasn't going to need surgery. (WHAT? SURGERY?!? That hadn't even occurred to me, thankfully!)

A couple hours later, we were home with a goofy boy turned super-friendly on Lortab. A couple days later, we had him safely bound up in a cast. A couple of days ago, I caught him climbing around on the OUTSIDE of the second level of our play fort in the backyard. That broken arm sure didn't slow him down for long. I think I'm glad…I want him to be a typical boy. I don't want him to be super-careful all the time, and afraid of falling.

I'll just hope that he stays in one piece from now on.

And I'll probably move faster next time I hear screaming coming from the yard.

And I'll keep those wooden spoons ready to go for the next splint!

Trauma!

Well, life just never gets boring around here! Got one kid throwing up, and another decided to jump off a brick mailbox and broke his arm. We'll be discussing consequences quite a bit over the next few days, I can tell. And believe me, there's a blog post coming about that trauma later!

But this story is about a different trauma.

Last night was rough – several hours in the emergency room with T1, then when we went to pick up the girls from Grandma's house, C started throwing up again. So we went to bed with T1 sleeping in my recliner, arm propped up on a pillow, and C in her bed with a throw-up bowl right next to her. And our door wide open, just in case any of them needed to call us.

T1 came in for a visit and to beg for more Tylenol around 1 or so. Got him settled back in and fell back asleep.

Around 3:15, we were awakened by a desperate voice screaming for daddy. Daddy moved fast! We both went racing out…first to broken-arm boy, who was sound asleep in the chair. Then to puking-girl, who was also sound asleep. The screamer? T2! The reason for the screaming? "Daddy, Daddy, there are ANTS in my bed. Ants! Ants!"

Yes, ants.

She's sitting at the opposite end of her crib, perched on top of her pile of animals and toys, pointing at the end she sleeps in. Poor pathetic girl.

We turned on the lights, straightened out the blankets, showed her there were no ants, tucked her back in, and she was out like a light.

Yep, my older girl will stomp spiders barefoot (and we won't talk about how that makes my skin crawl!), but my younger girl has a massive fear of teeny-tiny ants.

And it's official – our house has gone completely crazy.

Anybody wanna come visit?

Not Just ANY "Title"

Yep, it’s been more than a month.

For a couple of weeks, I was somewhat obsessed with basketball, and didn’t think I should bombard you with my obsession.

Then suddenly there was way too much to say, and no time to say it.  And the fact that there was way too much to say made it tough to know even where to start.  And then a week passed (spring break and vacation), and then another (in which I attempted to adjust to incredibly long days and not enough sleep), and the longer I waited to try to tell our story, the harder it seemed to try to say it.

In retrospect, I think I should have just told my story in two pictures.

This one:

And this one:

It was an oh-so-sweet ending to the best season yet.

“The boys” are now in the process of ordering rings and celebrating their win.  

I’m trying to catch up on sleep.

I’m not complaining, though…I’d do it all over again!

In fact, let’s just repeat this next year, okay?