Honestly?!
Suffice it to say, it's been a very rough couple of weeks...one of those "when it rains it...hails and puts a big honkin' dent in the hood of your car" type of thing. The month started out great! Work is picking up for Hubby after a horrific tragedy at his mine and due to his increased hours of overtime we thought we'd finally be able to catch up on some things and maybe start a little bit of Christmas shopping uncharacteristically early. (We are the wait-till-the-last-minute-and-curse-the-busy-malls-as-if-no-one-else-has-the-right-to-do- last-minute-shopping type of people). The second order of school books came in right on time so I didn't have to find make-work projects for the kids while we waited. Life was grand! Then that second week of October hit...OK, no, it SMACKED us right in our faces!
It started with my beloved washing machine breaking down. Just the week before I had been complaining about the enormous volume of washing that was relentlessly piling up in my hampers. I lamented over the fact that (in my opinion) our children have way too many clothes and wished they had each only been given 2 complete outfits, one to wear and one to wash. I went through the girls' contributions with a scrutinizing eye pulling less than dirty items out with snide remarks like; "I never saw anyone wear this!" and "You can wear pajamas more than one night as long as you don't pee the bed!" My 10 year-old LOVED that one!
"Moooommmmm!!!" she groaned and rolled her eyes right up into her skull.
I felt quite satisfied with myself as I threw the last load in the washer and hit the start button. When I went back to put the load in the dryer they were sopping wet! Hubby can fix anything so I just mentioned in passing that he would have to take a look at the washer when he got a chance. Due to all the wonderful OT hours he's been working that chance didn't come until 3 days after I'd asked. At first diagnosis, it was the pump. But, of course, first diagnoses are never the right ones. The second opinion came with a $285 price tag. It was another misdiagnosis. Thank goodness the second opinion came with a return policy! It was decided a new machine would have to be purchased.
As my appliance physician attempted each unsuccessful surgery I started to become appreciative of the plethora of garments bestowed upon my children by thoughtful friends and family passing them down...and my dirty pile grew. Three days turned into a week very quickly and a wonderful friend offered to do some loads to keep me from drowning. I parted the Red Sea of laundry into 9...yes, 9 different hampers in my bedroom and picked away at what we needed load by load and dropped them off daily. Around day 4 or 5 my town was bombarded with torrential winds and rain. As we listened to the storm outside it was creeping its way inside and filling up my bedroom floor like a child's inflatable pool. Canvas hampers are not waterproof. My next days' load was dropped off pre-rinsed.
While my laundry was festering I started to notice an awful smell wafting it's way up the stairs. I thought it may be the clothes or perhaps residual stench from when Hubby cleaned out the pump, but it seemed to be coming from the basement landing, not the laundry room. As I walked down the stairs I was hit with the unmistakable odour of cat urine. I cleaned out her litter box but couldn't find the exact spot the smell was emanating from so I sprinkled baking soda in the area and prayed it would take care of it. My 16 year-old cat has been acting a bit strange as of late. She has been extraordinarily cuddly and jumping up on my lap every chance she's had. I attributed this new behaviour to her recent weight loss and figured she was doing it just out of sheer ability. But then she started hiding in strange places..bathtubs, closets....laundry baskets. That evening as I was sitting on the couch she jumped in my lap and promptly released her bladder. I cleaned up the mess and threw my soiled jeans on top of the pile (what's one more pair of jeans?). The next morning I came upstairs to more stench and this time it was coming from my pantry! My precious kitty had pooped on the potatoes. As I went about my morning cleaning routine I found she has also defecated in the dining room and leaked on the linoleum. I realized then that she had lost complete control of her bodily functions and came to terms with the truth that she would have to be put down.
While I was mourning the impending loss of a cherished pet I decided to check my email hoping someone had perhaps sent a cute joke or funny picture...something to lift my heavy heart. Instead of seeing a video of a toddler streaking though a baseball field I got to read that my dear friend and her family had decided to leave our church. I was crushed and devastated. Of course she had no way of knowing that her letter couldn't have come at a worse time, but I spent a long sleepless night on the couch with a box of tissue and Netflix and waited for Hubby to come home from night shift. He walked through the door at 5:30 to be greeted by a disheveled and tearful wife. He hadn't closed the door when all of the news came tumbling out of my mouth in almost incoherent chatter. Sweetly, he waited for me to finish crying as he hugged me and then kissed the top of my head and said, "Would you like to hear some good news?" I looked at him expectantly...."My car blew a head gasket and it'll take $600 to fix it." We both dissolved into maniacal laughter, what else could we do?
Sunday came and as much as I wasn't looking forward to my friend's absence at the services, I was looking forward to getting to church. We drive over an hour to be at our church every Sunday and so far, the drive for the last 7 years has been pleasantly uneventful....but. At about the fifty minute mark I heard my 8 yer-old gasp, "One of the Buddies unbuckled!!" She immediately popped out of her seat to buckle him back up. I yelled and chided them both for unbuckling and warned them that if someone saw them roaming the van while we were on the highway they might call the police and Mommy would be in big trouble! After I felt they were sufficiently scared into never doing it again, I pulled over and had them re buckle before I continued on. After 1 hour and 3 minutes of driving I stopped at a red light and a police cruiser pulled up beside me in the turning lane. The girls started immediately taunting the Buddy about his recklessness! I warned them to quit teasing when I saw the officer back up and pull in behind me. At the beginning of the post I mentioned having to get caught up on some things. One of those "things" were my plate stickers. At the beginning of the month when Hubby and I did our budget, it was decided that this would be the week to buy the stickers...on Monday. The officer followed me for the remaining minute it took to get to the church parking lot and pulled in with me. At this point I had to make a decision. I could pretend I had no idea my husband (whose name the licence plate is registered under) hadn't yet renewed HIS stickers or I could be honest. I have always taught my children to tell the truth, even if it gets you in trouble and I will not be a hypocrite. As the cop watched each child file out of my "clown car" as we like to call it, (I can almost hear the circus music playing faintly in the background as each little head emerges) he questioned me.
"Did you realize your plates expired?"
I answered, "Yes Sir, I did. My husband has not been able to buy the new ones yet, but he planned to get them tomorrow."
"Why are you all the way out here today? Do you come out this way often?"
"Every Sunday for church, Sir." The kids were watching very intently..well, the girls were. The Buddies were staring at the cruiser wondering if the police guy would turn on the flashy lights.
He looked at me, then all the kids and his gaze softened just a little. "Normally we would write a ticket or a three day warning for this sort of thing," he paused.
"I will take the three day warning if you need to give it to me." I stated calmly.
"Not today," he said. "You live too far for me to expect you to come all the way back here just for this. Make sure to get the stickers and have a good day."
I breathed a sigh of relief as Buddy #1 waved at the officer and said, "Hi, Mr. Policeman!"
"Hey, Buddy." The officer replied as he walked away.
In the true spirit of honesty Buddy #1 hung his head and mumbled, "It was me Sir, I did the bad thing. I'm sorry I unbuckled."
The 10 year-old hissed a loud "SHHHHHH!" and threw her hand over her brother's mouth just as the officer shut his door and drove away.
It started with my beloved washing machine breaking down. Just the week before I had been complaining about the enormous volume of washing that was relentlessly piling up in my hampers. I lamented over the fact that (in my opinion) our children have way too many clothes and wished they had each only been given 2 complete outfits, one to wear and one to wash. I went through the girls' contributions with a scrutinizing eye pulling less than dirty items out with snide remarks like; "I never saw anyone wear this!" and "You can wear pajamas more than one night as long as you don't pee the bed!" My 10 year-old LOVED that one!
"Moooommmmm!!!" she groaned and rolled her eyes right up into her skull.
I felt quite satisfied with myself as I threw the last load in the washer and hit the start button. When I went back to put the load in the dryer they were sopping wet! Hubby can fix anything so I just mentioned in passing that he would have to take a look at the washer when he got a chance. Due to all the wonderful OT hours he's been working that chance didn't come until 3 days after I'd asked. At first diagnosis, it was the pump. But, of course, first diagnoses are never the right ones. The second opinion came with a $285 price tag. It was another misdiagnosis. Thank goodness the second opinion came with a return policy! It was decided a new machine would have to be purchased.
As my appliance physician attempted each unsuccessful surgery I started to become appreciative of the plethora of garments bestowed upon my children by thoughtful friends and family passing them down...and my dirty pile grew. Three days turned into a week very quickly and a wonderful friend offered to do some loads to keep me from drowning. I parted the Red Sea of laundry into 9...yes, 9 different hampers in my bedroom and picked away at what we needed load by load and dropped them off daily. Around day 4 or 5 my town was bombarded with torrential winds and rain. As we listened to the storm outside it was creeping its way inside and filling up my bedroom floor like a child's inflatable pool. Canvas hampers are not waterproof. My next days' load was dropped off pre-rinsed.
While my laundry was festering I started to notice an awful smell wafting it's way up the stairs. I thought it may be the clothes or perhaps residual stench from when Hubby cleaned out the pump, but it seemed to be coming from the basement landing, not the laundry room. As I walked down the stairs I was hit with the unmistakable odour of cat urine. I cleaned out her litter box but couldn't find the exact spot the smell was emanating from so I sprinkled baking soda in the area and prayed it would take care of it. My 16 year-old cat has been acting a bit strange as of late. She has been extraordinarily cuddly and jumping up on my lap every chance she's had. I attributed this new behaviour to her recent weight loss and figured she was doing it just out of sheer ability. But then she started hiding in strange places..bathtubs, closets....laundry baskets. That evening as I was sitting on the couch she jumped in my lap and promptly released her bladder. I cleaned up the mess and threw my soiled jeans on top of the pile (what's one more pair of jeans?). The next morning I came upstairs to more stench and this time it was coming from my pantry! My precious kitty had pooped on the potatoes. As I went about my morning cleaning routine I found she has also defecated in the dining room and leaked on the linoleum. I realized then that she had lost complete control of her bodily functions and came to terms with the truth that she would have to be put down.
While I was mourning the impending loss of a cherished pet I decided to check my email hoping someone had perhaps sent a cute joke or funny picture...something to lift my heavy heart. Instead of seeing a video of a toddler streaking though a baseball field I got to read that my dear friend and her family had decided to leave our church. I was crushed and devastated. Of course she had no way of knowing that her letter couldn't have come at a worse time, but I spent a long sleepless night on the couch with a box of tissue and Netflix and waited for Hubby to come home from night shift. He walked through the door at 5:30 to be greeted by a disheveled and tearful wife. He hadn't closed the door when all of the news came tumbling out of my mouth in almost incoherent chatter. Sweetly, he waited for me to finish crying as he hugged me and then kissed the top of my head and said, "Would you like to hear some good news?" I looked at him expectantly...."My car blew a head gasket and it'll take $600 to fix it." We both dissolved into maniacal laughter, what else could we do?
Sunday came and as much as I wasn't looking forward to my friend's absence at the services, I was looking forward to getting to church. We drive over an hour to be at our church every Sunday and so far, the drive for the last 7 years has been pleasantly uneventful....but. At about the fifty minute mark I heard my 8 yer-old gasp, "One of the Buddies unbuckled!!" She immediately popped out of her seat to buckle him back up. I yelled and chided them both for unbuckling and warned them that if someone saw them roaming the van while we were on the highway they might call the police and Mommy would be in big trouble! After I felt they were sufficiently scared into never doing it again, I pulled over and had them re buckle before I continued on. After 1 hour and 3 minutes of driving I stopped at a red light and a police cruiser pulled up beside me in the turning lane. The girls started immediately taunting the Buddy about his recklessness! I warned them to quit teasing when I saw the officer back up and pull in behind me. At the beginning of the post I mentioned having to get caught up on some things. One of those "things" were my plate stickers. At the beginning of the month when Hubby and I did our budget, it was decided that this would be the week to buy the stickers...on Monday. The officer followed me for the remaining minute it took to get to the church parking lot and pulled in with me. At this point I had to make a decision. I could pretend I had no idea my husband (whose name the licence plate is registered under) hadn't yet renewed HIS stickers or I could be honest. I have always taught my children to tell the truth, even if it gets you in trouble and I will not be a hypocrite. As the cop watched each child file out of my "clown car" as we like to call it, (I can almost hear the circus music playing faintly in the background as each little head emerges) he questioned me.
"Did you realize your plates expired?"
I answered, "Yes Sir, I did. My husband has not been able to buy the new ones yet, but he planned to get them tomorrow."
"Why are you all the way out here today? Do you come out this way often?"
"Every Sunday for church, Sir." The kids were watching very intently..well, the girls were. The Buddies were staring at the cruiser wondering if the police guy would turn on the flashy lights.
He looked at me, then all the kids and his gaze softened just a little. "Normally we would write a ticket or a three day warning for this sort of thing," he paused.
"I will take the three day warning if you need to give it to me." I stated calmly.
"Not today," he said. "You live too far for me to expect you to come all the way back here just for this. Make sure to get the stickers and have a good day."
I breathed a sigh of relief as Buddy #1 waved at the officer and said, "Hi, Mr. Policeman!"
"Hey, Buddy." The officer replied as he walked away.
In the true spirit of honesty Buddy #1 hung his head and mumbled, "It was me Sir, I did the bad thing. I'm sorry I unbuckled."
The 10 year-old hissed a loud "SHHHHHH!" and threw her hand over her brother's mouth just as the officer shut his door and drove away.
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