This has been one of those weeks where I’m feeling like I’m being tested daily (and not just as a parent). There’s been no shortage of bloggable material, but to be perfectly honest, I just haven’t felt like sitting down and writing about it. Aside from this week being incredible busy with a ton of running around, I’m in some sort of allergy haze as there’s been an eruption of pollen in my area. So rather than doing multiple posts, here’s the week in review:
Saturday: Went to the beach even though it was raining and took the three kids outlet shoe shopping. No further explanation needed.
Sunday: Went to a park, played mini golf, went on the beach, ate an actual bucket of boardwalk fries, and nearly slipped into a coma.
Monday: With Easter less than a week away, I decided to get the stuff for the kid’s baskets while my husband took a quick break for lunch. This was a deliberate move because the store where I was headed was the same place Jake insulted an old lady, biker, and cashier with an unknown gender all in one trip. For the first time, I grabbed a cart because the “Easter Box” with all the baskets, grass, and plastic eggs I had saved from last year was swallowed by my basement. I also had other items to purchase as well, so I hurried around, filling the pharmacy’s cart. As I approached the front of the store the cashier placed both hands over her mouth and began to giggle. She’s worked there a while so I know who she is, and I’d say she was socially awkward to say the least (that’s not an official diagnosis, and I’d rather just not go there). Anyway, as I start unloading she loudly exclaims, “Your hair is like KAAAA-POOOOOW!” I smiled and agreed, after all I walk around like this every day; I know what my hair looks like.
And yet for some reason, she kept at it. For nearly six minutes she rang up my items, and stopped after almost every item scanned to comment on my hair. “Do you know it’s out there?” and “I don’t mean to say it like that, but it’s all like WOW!” and “What’s it like in the summer?” oh, and “Can you even fit it under a hat?” There was a man, in his early forties maybe that was behind me in line. He just kept repeating quietly, “Oh, my God, stop talking.” If it wasn’t for the 10% off I get with every purchase, it might not be worth it to face the slew of insults at my local Rite Aide.
Tuesday: Spent the morning on a farm with Joey’s class, and Jake was also there with his preschool group accompanied by my husband. I’m not real into touching livestock, getting intimate with my future food, or thrilled about ecoli, but the trip was really entertaining for the kids and only a couple of hours long. We managed to get out of there with only one) goof when I told Joey to listen to a man who was speaking to the kids about various seeds (wonder why he was not paying attention)? This particular “farmer” had a pretty thick accent and Joey yelled out, “I can’t understand him, Mom! He’s speaking Spanish!” (Except he was Indian and speaking English). The gentleman shot me a look and did not seem amused. Other than that it was a good trip.
The kids were then loaded back on the bus and taken to a local park where all 106 of them respectively (with some other park goers and a few siblings) played for several hours after enjoying their lunch at picnic tables. For the most part it was fine, but all those kids climbing on the equipment at the same time, some hanging out the sides of the “rocket” jungle gym 10 ft in the air, was almost too much for me to take. I would have added some rum to my coke or tried to get my hands on some Xanax or something had I know the absolute mayhem that was about to take place. Just too many kids, too large of an area, with too few adults. Aside from some minor arguing over prime playground territory, a few kids drinking out of a dog watering bowl, a couple tumbles, and a few rain drops, the kids had a blast. There were no missing children, compound fractures or catastrophic falls, so all in all a good day.
The giant Rocket Jungle Gym that nearly gave me an anxiety attack. Please picture 100+ kids ALL on this at once. It happened.
Wednesday: Just like the last few weeks, we’ve had one day that hits 80 degrees (before it drops down to 50 again). Worked in the garden all day, husband had an allergy attack after cutting the grass and his eyes almost swelled totally shut. Ran to the store, saw FIVE people I knew, spoke to all of them, came home, looked in the mirror and was surprised they didn’t give the same reaction as the lady from Rite Aide. Dirt on my face. Dirt on my shirt. Hair was like “KAAAAA-POOOOW!”
Thursday: Spring break started a day early for Joey. He woke up with red, swollen eyes and a bad headache. I spent the day trying to rid our house of all the pollen I let in yesterday when I had every window open. Dusted and cleaned furniture, windows, walls, floors. Dust rag was a yellowish green from pollen and I sneezed most of the day. Considering wearing Depends Adult Diapers while Cecilia, the former sweet and innocent baby turned curious and destructive toddler, is awake. Took two bathroom breaks and paid for my brief moment behind a closed door. Trip one into the bathroom she spilled both of her brother’s juice cups on the kitchen table and the kitchen floor. She then proceeded to empty a container of baby wipes in order to spread clean the mess up. Two cups of coffee and a couple hours later, I slipped in the bathroom unnoticed…or so I thought. I heard a gentle scratching sound at the door and called out “Who’s there!” to which Cecilia squealed in delight and ran down the hall. Upon leaving the bathroom I discovered the scratching was not a sound made by her hands but rather from a red crayon that was all over the bathroom door, front door and down the hallway.
As I mentioned today is the official start of Spring Break. Pray for me, people. Pray for me.
Hope you’re all having a good week! Leave me a comment while you’re here and don’t forget to vote for me on Top Mommy Blogs!
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The truth hurts. This is especially try when the truths I speak of are about what my body is now like after three kids and rapidly closing in on my 33rd birthday. Sure I could exercise, but I could also just as easily sit on my couch whining about my girth while shoveling down a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. In most cases you get out of it what you give, and I’m okay with where I’m at…that doesn’t mean I don’t have a whole lot of room for improvement, or that I can ignore the truth about what’s happened to my body.
