Well, our patient is recovering nicely. She has just finished her first bath since the incident, and she screamed and pleaded and begged through the entire thing. She hates baths on a good day, but when there's a plastic bag and a change of routine involved, it just really throws her for a loop.
But she survived, despite Sean wanting to drown her. (Not really, I promise. I'm exaggerating. Don't call DCFS, mmmkay?)
And the best part is, we only have 3 more weeks of this.
PTA night at Classic Skating was quite adventurous. It's a clean break, called a supercondylar fracture. Just above the elbow, the bone snapped off, but luckily between last nights X-Rays and today, the shard of bone that was the culprit for a surgical consult had righted itself, and all it needs now is a cast for 3 weeks.
So for those of you that follow me on Facebook, which is probably all of you, you know I had a really bad day on Saturday. I seem to be on a two month delay when it comes to reacting to my shit-storm inundated life. That makes me seem crazy to those around me. But it's completely normal to me.
Saturday was just the day. It hit, and it hit hard. I mean, I've felt it coming on for a week or so, you know, the sleepless nights, the raging mood swings, the not giving a crap about anything around me. Yeah, those are the usual suspects when it comes to heralding a mental breakdown.
So Saturday, I knew it was going to blow, so I headed off to the library, because really, is there a better place to vent anger and frustration and tears than in a silent room filled with looky-loos? I probably could have chosen a better place, but I obviously wasn't in my right mind. So I stayed until it closed. Then I had to find somewhere else to go.
I went and saw my mom. She looks the same. She hasn't changed at all. And as I sat in the cold grass sobbing at her headstone, the thought came to me that her death was the easiest part of this turn my life has taken. My ever insightful brother said last night that if someone had told him that, he would have punched them in the teeth (but he wouldn't really, he's too nice. And just gay enough that it would have come out more like a bitch slap than a punch. Love you, bro).
And then I drove. And drove. And just kept driving. Because I didn't really have anywhere I wanted to go, and I didn't really want to deal with anyone. I ended up at Barnes and Noble, again, poor choice, but I love books, what can I say? I wandered and pored over various self-help books, sex books, business start up books, and ultimately Law School admission requirement books. I figured if anyone saw me crying over a law book, they would just assume it was tears of boredom.
But then I got a text from Sean. He'd been worried about me. He asked if he could come and get me. And honestly folks, I was in no condition to be on the road. It was that bad. My mind was not right.
I was so thankful for him at that moment. He came and got me, we had some dinner, and we chatted about all the things that were swimming through my crazy head. I cried at dinner, too. But we talked, and it felt good. He didn't judge me, or try to fix me, he just let me be crazy, then he brought me home, tucked me in bed, and let me sleep it off until later the next morning. That is love, right there.
Part of my struggle has been my upcoming talk for this Sunday. I have been asked to speak on humility. I'll be honest, the wounds are still a little fresh, and it brings tears to my eyes to even think about what I'll talk about. What do people want to hear? How my mom died, I completely lost it and wanted to end it all, lost my house, and lost a job, and worked all these years only to be starting over? I don't want pity, but talk about being humbled. I'm sure it will come to me, what I'm supposed to say, but for now, I'm just hoping round two is it, and round three is nonexistent.
This is a snapshot of what my evenings have been looking like the last little while.
Kids at the table crafting, or studying, and dad at the table with them, studying and listening to Pandora. I am usually in the kitchen trying to find a pot or pan or lid that may resemble my own, but not usually finding what I'm looking for.
So for Valentines Day, we celebrated in style! I mean, would you expect anything less from me?
Sean and I headed up to Logan to help Spencer move from one apartment to another. He told us he didn't really need help, he could get most of it moved in his car, but we insisted since we are official moving pro's now.
He was right, he didn't need us. It took us two loads and about an hour. Now that's the way to move.
But we had an excuse to get up to Logan and take in the town and see the campus and spend the night at the Crystal Inn. See? Classy, huh? Actually, it's my favorite place to stay in Logan. It's nice, and cheap, and they have free breakfast! Huzzah!
Anywho, we were moving. It was snowing. Again, we know how it is to move in winter. But Sean thought flip flops in Logan in February was appropriate footwear. Things were going to happen. He was carrying a table ( yes, all by himself, he's so strong!) and hit a patch of ice. You know how they say they bigger they are, the harder they fall? It's true. He fell hard. Don't worry, the table is fine. But Sean? He dislocated something. Not a knee, not a shoulder. Not even an ankle.
He dislocated some fat.
He said as he was falling, the middle section of fat became airborne, and as he hit the sidewalk, the fat bottomed out and pulled something. He's pretty sore. But I got a pretty good laugh at his expense.
Remember how my wedding dress is out of style? Yeah, I'm not cool anymore, and I'm okay with it.
Today was a beautiful day, and I found myself driving, alone, in my Vangina (expired out-of-state plates, too, thankyouverymuch), and enjoying the sounds of silence. Then I heard it.
Oh. My. Heck.
Does that take me back.
Suddenly I was 19, driving on a dark road in the middle of nowhere with the top down on my Miata (those were cool when I was 19, I promise), with White Zombie cranked up. Those were my cool days. I had it all. A cool car, cute shorts with tan legs, boys calling to ask me on dates. I was the bomb.
So what did I do today? I cranked up White Zombie in the Vangina, and pretended I was cool again.
Guess what I found out?
But still, it reminded me that once upon a time, I was cute, skinny, and thought I knew everything.
I'm may not be awesome like that anymore, but I'm awesome in different ways now. And I'm totally okay with that.
I awoke to a text waiting for me from Sean. It asked if I had ever gone animal style. I, of course, though that was some sort of "supersize" combo meal from some random fast food place. It's not. It's not that, either, pervs.
Apparently it's when you only rinse in the shower, don't use soap or shampoo. I think it sounds disgusting, because the only thing that stinks worse than sleepy body smell is wet sleepy body smell. Nasty.
But we did a little animal style of our own yesterday. Not that, pervs.
We went to the zoo! In February! Who knew people went to zoos in the winter? Not me. But it's the best time to go! No crowds, no heat, no shops open to tempt my kids with their overpriced hats and stuffed animals. And best of all, I didn't sit in tar this time. I know, I'm learning after all!
There were lots of animals out doing animal things, more than I usually see in the heat of the summer. The penguins were being a little R-rated with their brutal mating, and we had a little talk about how you can tell if a giraffe is a boy or a girl. All important lessons, I think. We also learned that Eli is made of meat, not hay, so giraffes won't eat him, but cougars will.
I love that kid.
It was a fun trip. Quick, painless, and cheap, just the way I like my animal style.
Yesterday I met up with a friend and went to our old elementary school to let the kids play on the playground. It was weird being back there, everything was pretty much the same as it was when I was in 5th grade. Same gravel playground, same swings, same basketball hoops, same everything.
But I am definitely different.
I remember as a kid, swinging so high on those swings, showing off for my crush of the week, Shane, and thinking life was so easy. I knew I had it good as a kid. My parents worked hard, and we did lots of fun things as a family. I always knew I was blessed. Lucky even.
Yesterday as I shuffled through that gravely playground, I realized how different my life has turned out thus far from how I thought it would. I honestly never thought I would have 3 children. I never thought I would be a stay at home mom, and I certainly never thought I would be 30 something living with the in laws.
I always thought I would become a famous writer, live in a big city in a high rise apartment, and live alone. Really, that's what I wanted for myself. Boy, things sure are different now.
I guess life hands you lessons and you learn what you need, and then you move on to the next lesson. Apparently I'm a tough case because I need to keep relearning the same lessons. When will I learn to do what I'm supposed to do? How hard is my head that I need to keep working on the same lessons repeatedly? I guess going back to elementary school really put my life lessons in perspective. I will learn this time, I promise.
So remember how two month ago my hubby got shit canned? Yeah, I remember that too.
I think I have some PTSD from that day. Here's why.
Yesterday I was doing my thing like I do every day, when 9:00 AM rolls around. Sean has class from 7:40 until 11:10, so I just sort of bide my time until he gets home. But 9:00 comes, and he pulls into the driveway.
My heart sinks. I start getting jittery, and sweating, and my stomach feels sick. It feels like that day he showed up at home after the lay off.
I instantly start thinking the worst; he dropped out of school, he got kicked out of school, he got in an accident, he got a job and has to drop out of school, he decided he hates us all and wants a divorce and to take the kids and all the money and run away and leave me homeless and destitute and alone.
A little dramatic? Probably.
Turns out he doesn't have the 10:00 class on Tuesdays, and I was just mistaken. I had a little breakdown after that.
Seriously, I think I have some PTSD. I'm so afraid of what else may come our way, that I'm afraid to ever think positively!
It is February! February! That means long, dark, pain in my butt ugly January is over!
This also means a couple of other things.
It's time to take the Christmas stuff down. You know who you are, you Christmas dwellers. I've seen it quite a bit this year, trees still glistening in windows, lights still up on houses, wreaths and bows adorning windows. It's over. Move on. Christmas will be here again, I promise, but you need to MOVE.ON!
It's Groundhog day today, and that movie was filmed near our old home in Chicago. You probably already know that the groundhog did indeed see his shadow. Bum-mer. 6 more weeks of freaking winter. Dang. Although, I have to say, winter here in Utah is like a bazillion times better than winter in Chicago. I don't miss having to wear a knee length coat, gloves, hat, scarf and boots. And that's just to go get the mail. I don't miss having to salt the driveway 3 times a day so we can actually make it into the garage. I enjoy having 40's and even 30's, and thinking that a sweater is just fine to wear while out and about. Ahh.
I bought potatoes today. Potatoes get me so excited! Do you know that in Chicago, I once scored on a 10 lb bag of taters for $5? I was thrilled! Well, today I bought 30 lbs of taters for, wait for it, wait for it, $5. Seriously, how can that not be exciting? So I carried my 30 lbs of taters to the car, and brought them home and threw some in to bake for au gratins tonight. Yummy!
And speaking of that 30 lbs, I've lost over that much weight now, and it really put it into perspective to me when I was having a hard time carrying those bags of potatoes to the car. That's what I have been carrying around for the last, we'll just say few, years. Crazy!
So that's it for today. Did I mention it's groundhog day?
So, in case you haven't been keeping up with my life via this here blog, I've been on a, shall we say, frugal kick these days. Saturday's shopping trip was no exception.
Kohl's. I heart Kohl's. Not for their organization or their name brands, but for their freaking cheap clearance stuff. And seriously, I think they must put stuff on clearance after just a week or two at regular price, because it's always new stuff! I heart that, I really do. So Sean and I got gift cards to Kohl's for Christmas, and it was getting to the point where even I was sick of seeing myself in the same clothes, and that's saying a lot. I mean, we're talking about me here, me who brought one pair of shorts and two shirts when I came for 3 weeks in the summer. Okay, I had 2 pairs of shorts, and some capri's which were later ruined by the infamous butt print at the zoo. But I digress. It was time for new stuff. So we headed to Kohl's to use our gift cards. Sean scored 2 shirts for school, and one for church, I got a flyaway sweater and new jammies. Total at the checkout after gift cards? $1. Score.
Then it was off to lunch. Ah, Bajio. Now, I'm not a fan of Cafe Rio, or even Costa Vida that much, because I don't like all the schmutz they put on stuff. I like meat and cheese. Plain and simple. But Bajio has changed me. Enter the Bajio Mexican Pizza with sweet pork. Mm, mm, good! I was not thrilled that it was almost $9, but we had gift cards to Bajio, too, so we used one of those bad boys. For all 5 of us to eat, after gift cards, total at register? $2. Yeeessssss.
So shopping and lunch cost me $3. Now that is a deal. I love deals. I love lunch. I don't really love shopping, but it's a necessary evil. I may not be easy, but I'm cheap. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.