Total Chaos

It's always when my Beloved is at work....

To know me is to understand I have an irrational fear of roaches. I become completely unhinged if I even think there is one nearby. It's unhealthy and I have no intention of changing - I am who I am.

Now to my living nightmare....

Thursday evening as I was eating the last of my dinner, a roach crawls out from under my Beloved's chair and creeps behind our living room bench and I swear it's the size of a Corgi. Usually at this time of day, my beloved husband is home to handle such a crisis. Not THIS night though. This night he has a late event he has to help with.

I did NOT panic! I finished the last few bites and then ran to my room screaming "Alice, stay in your room - there's a roach in the living room!"

From my bed, Alice and I are screaming to each other about what we should do. It's decided that we should abandon the house. It's no longer safe. We decide to go to Taekwondo. I tell her to brush her teeth. She runs to her bathroom to speed through teeth brushing.

And then...the roach enters the hall and turns towards me as if to say, "hey girl, what's up?" Sir. We. Are. Not. Friends.

I scream "ALICE!! IT'S IN THE HALL!!!!!"

She screams and runs to our room. 

Our unwelcome visitor makes its way to Alice's doorway, looks in the room and proceeds to move down the hall.

Now I panic. After checking out Alice's bathroom, it walks DIRECTLY TO MY ROOM.

It's the roach version of Goldilocks. 

The nasty intruder steps foot in my room to all the screaming, decides this is not the vibe he's looking for and turns around.

I get a moment of bravery and decide I can kill it. I'm a grown person. It's just a bug. Alice throws a flyswatter out of our bathroom,; I take a few deep breaths and I head down the hall.

By this time, it has made its way to our back bedroom doorway. I bravely get close enough to hit it - only I miss because grace is not a spiritual gift I was given. I was given the gift of calamity. 

I turn to run, trip over my comfy house shoes and hit the floor....hard. So. Hard.

I crawl back to my room and throw myself on the bed. Alice offers to call 911 from the bathroom.

This is it. I am done.

I tell her we're leaving. She grabs a shoe; I have the flyswatter - and we run.

Every light in the house is on, there are shoes and large throwing objects spread throughout the house - I don't care, I walk away from all of it.

Alice in the car "where did it come from?!?"
Me "The gates of Hell!"

Alice does her TKD class and when she's done, my Beloved still isn't home.

Alice "okay, let's go to Walmart and spend money", because she is MY child, and this is how we heal.

Instead, we decided ice cream can fix it.

We get home and remain in the car until I can no longer take it. I walk through the house and our nasty bestie isn't anywhere I can see. I make Alice get out and we pile on to one spot on the couch while she sobs in fear, and I eat my well-earned Blizzard.

And that's how my Beloved finds us once he finally gets home. 

Her sobbing and me trying to watch First Daughter on Netflix.

Bless.

Did we handle it the best way possible? Probably not.

Did we make Dada look until he found the dead beast? ABSOLUTELY!

Is the right side of my body bruised? Yes. Yes, it is. 

My dominant elbow I spend a lot of time leaning on? Bruised. I am living with my discomfort and taking it as a lesson in what not to do next time.

Next time I will immediately leave the house and go shopping...

This is the way.

Until next time.....

The 12th Year

Happy birthday, Alice!

Today, you are 12.

Can you believe?!

It was a busy, busy year. 

You wrapped up your 5th grade year playing an Oompa Loompa in Willy Wonka. Fifth grade was probably the hardest year you have had yet but you got through it! 

This summer we got to sleep in a bus! Sort of. :) We took a little trip to San Marcos and saw caves and deer and goats. It was such an adventure!

You got your braces off and now have to keep up with a retainer. You had determined baby teeth pulled and handled it like a champ!

You started 6th grade and so far, it has been a much better start than last year. We talked a lot this summer about friendships and the opportunity this provides to expanding your circle. You were way less stressed with the start of the year. You are taking art and have joined the Drama Club.

You earned your black belt in Taekwondo. You are now on the Diving Divas volleyball team and have your first game next week. 

You got a cell phone for your 11th birthday and texting with you is SO MUCH FUN.

You are growing and changing and it's such an honor to be a part of it. We tried to prepare you for as much as we can and so far you are handling it so much better than we imagined. We are proud of you. Always.

Sometimes the big feelings are a lot so we have a safe word for those times when we're both a little overly passionate and need to step away to gather our calm. It mainly just makes us laugh and confuses Dada. 

If ever your feelings are too big and you don't want to share them with me, I hope you know you are surrounded by a village of people who want nothing but the best for you. You are never alone. 

I hope this year is the best one you've ever had. 

We love you so very much, babes. 

Being 12 is SO preppy.

Slay.

Mom & Dad

Saturday Shenanigans

This is the kind of shenanigans I get into when my Beloved is at work on the weekends.

A few Saturdays ago, I decided to treat my self and I had a mani/pedi/eyebrow shape date. It was wonderful. Having my eyebrows done means I walk away with angry pink skin that makes it look like I have a questionable rash. Every time. 

But it's okay!! Because the rest of my plans for the day involved staying in my house. Unbothered. 

But it's me....so....

I leave my appointment, pick up lunch and head home. Alice and I are eating our lunch when the door bell rings.

Our door is built to where if it's bright enough, you can see a shadow walking up to it from outside so there was no sneaking up without answering.

I open the door to a man and his grown son who just look at me. It takes me a second to realize his son is holding a very old Weiner dog. I recognize said dog because this is not my first encounter with him.

Me "Oh! He lives next door!"

The Dad "Okay, great! I didn't know which house it was."

They leave to take him home.

The doorbell rings again.

They're back. With the dog.

The Dad "They're not home." *awkward silence and staring*

My Internal dialogue - what am I supposed to do? I'm not the one that found him.

What I actually say "okay, I'll take him."

This dog is blind and older than dirt. This is at least the third time I've encountered him and I'm pretty sure he is just trying to go towards the light and keeps getting lost.

The last time the dog was put in my arms (by a different neighbor who found him), I placed him back in their backyard with their other dogs. They have two younger dogs. (These dogs often get out and sometimes visit our backyard.) When I put the little dog in their yard, he immediately snapped at the younger dogs. I'm convinced the younger ones are actively digging holes for him to sneak out in hopes he'll disappear.

I take the dog and bring him inside. He bumps around with Alice following him making sure he doesn't hurt himself. I text the neighbor letting him know he's with us.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rings for the third time. 

I let him come in and I ask him what the dogs name is because I've spent enough time with him, I want to know what to call him next time.

The neighbor has to think about it. 

What?

He say "He's really old, we just call him Wiener. He's Rachel's childhood dog, she's had him for forever and we don't remember what his name started out as."

The heck?

Whatever, he takes the dog.

In a span of thirty minutes, I've greeted three neighbors, two of which I have never seen before, looking like I have some kind of plague.

I really shouldn't be shocked this is how my Saturday turned out....

Until next time....

Yay Day!

 There are two things that contribute to this story.

1. Alice is ready for a dog. She has been BEGGING for a new dog for MONTHS. Every time she sees a dog or hears the word dog or passes the dog aisle at any store. She. Wants. A. Dog.

2. Surgery recovery means no "intimate" situations allowed until cleared by the doctor which is usually at the six weeks mark. My Beloved being the funny man that he is counted six weeks on our kitchen calendar and wrote "Yay Day!" It should be noted this is a calendar that Alice has never paid attention to a day in her entire life.

Now to the story.

A few nights ago, Alice comes running in to our room all excited.

Alice "MOM! Why did you write Yay Day on National Adopt a Shelter Pet day!?? Does that mean we're getting a dog?!?"

And I immediately start laughing and say, "Daddy, Alice wants to know why you wrote Yay Day on National Adopt a Shelter Pet Day?!"

This is his doing, let him handle it.

Him...."I wrote that because that's the date Momma is supposed to be completely healed and can get back to her normal routine."

Me "Yes, that's the day I can move my weighted blanket all on my own." (I'm not supposed to lift anything over 10 lbs.)

Her disappointment was palpable. 

The date has a paw print on it, for crying out loud.

The next day we're in the car when Alice announces from the back seat, "I told Mrs. Ashby about 'Yay Day'."

Lovely.....just lovely.

Me "What exactly did you tell her?"

Alice, to me "I told her you wrote that on the calendar."

Me "No! DADDY wrote that!"

Him "I'm not sure that matters at this point."

Me "Did you tell her what kind of surgery I had?!"

Her "No, she didn't ask."

I have read ZERO parenting books but I am confident this kind of situation isn't in there.

And I know what you're thinking, "I know what you will be doing that day!!" 

NOPE!!!! My post op check is at an undisclosed later date so Yay Date will not happen on National Adopt a Shelter Pet Day. We will also not be adopting a shelter pet on National Adopt a Shelter Pet Day either. 

So, boom! 

Until next time.....