~ HerdinKittys ~

The Whole Bloody Mess

This weekend was nothing short of bizarre and amazing.  Earlier in the week the girls and I had gone to the local army hospital for some much needed relief for the plague.  A crippling, ear-popping, middle-of-the-night sort of plague that the good doctors helped to ease with a wonderful brew of antibiotics and cough meds.  Summer cold + strep (only the wee ones, go figure) =one scary group of grumpy ladies.  The mucus alone is a thing of wonder and it's hard to believe that so much can come from ones so, so little.  Forget that, the amount from me....and this is how strange I am... for real, where does it come from?  The amount is astonishing.  That being said, my fantabulous in-laws gave us a call to see if we would like to mosey on over their way for the weekend.  It's a 3 hour drive that can digress quickly into Dante's inner circles of hell even with the husband on hand but hey, I'm game.  Single mom-n-it mentality set in and I agreed to make the journey on Friday evening.   Begin the bizarre.

The trip started off rough, girls mildly upset, and I was thinking that I should just plan on stopping.  For that matter, a lot. No need, for the girls slept and played with toes for the majority of the trip.  That is until the deer.  Blghhh.  Enter the white vehicle in far right lane, going a good deal faster than the white-haired driver ought to, and that's when deer happened.  Dead, road kill, nasty ol' deer in the middle of the road and the white car hit this mess dead on.  Now I usually don't have issues with road kill, the bits don't hold the gravitational glance effect they hold over some poor souls but this, this was almost spectacular.  Chunks of deer flew up into the air and for a split second time stood still as I waited to see which portion of the creature would rain down upon us.  I'm okay with blood on the windshield as that's what wipers are for but the smacking sounds of pure yuck hitting the car doors was too much.  I so wanted to close my eyes and wish the entire scenario out of existence because dammmnnn,  GROSS! 

By the last 20 minutes of the trip the girls had woken up and all was well in our little car world and then I saw what I believe was the nail in the coffin of the omen of this whole shebang.  Feathers, thousands of them, lining both sides of the interstate.  And then there were none.  There's a logical explanation but had dear husband been there you betcha I would've pulled over and had him drive.  Because that is just too weird for my liking.

And here is where the bragging comes in.  I have the best in-laws in the entire universe.  The moment I arrived mom-in-law gave me a reprieve and from that point on, I slept most of the weekend away.  Oh my god, sleep is sexy.  It's better than sexy, it's a crisp diet coke and a sweet with a salt.  Love, Love, Love to them.   So we came home and while non-eventful in a non-bloody sort of way it was not so much fun as the girls used that time to practice their stadium voices.  And  I smiled because for once in a great, long, long while, I was actually rested.

Sure, if you ask nicely

I have a lot of time to think, too much to keep all to myself.  Therefore, my girls hear a lot of crap that I believe I'm only saying to myself and then one of them will repeat it for me.   Me brushing my hair "Wench, look before you come barreling around the aisle.  That's right, you stupid....blah blah rant rant".  Enter Annabella,  "No,no,no.uh uhh uhhh, wench."   Nice. Want a babysitter?   I have an arsenal of these colorful ramblings for the taking and it wouldn't even cost extra.  And if your little ones don't get it quite right, I can send the oldest over to school them on her firstest wordy dird "Damn".  Mother of the year here, genuflecting allowed.

One would think that with all this so called time I have on my hands that I could at least think me up a few witty comebacks for all the awkward situations I find myself in.  See above.  That's not wit and that grocery aisle incident happens over and over and over...you get it.  I do one of two things in uncomfortable, annoying, teeth gritting situations.   1:  I clench up, stare really mean like and mentally project bad things upon offender   or   2:  Laugh    Not a cool, hip chuckle as in 'huh, what you did just then was weird dude and I have nothing to offer except my amusement'  rather it's more a 'I have no idea how to handle this and I would like to run. now. away from you'   head down, teen giggle.   Neither is effective at getting a point across, whatever that point may be.  All this to explain this:

Me:  (Samantha and Annabella in stroller, behaving wonderfully, facing said person)  I have "insert boring maintenance problem"  It's not high priority, just need some help. 

Nice person:  No problem, la la la...boring to readers...da da.  (looks down at girls and smiles)  They are so cute. Not very far apart in age right?

Me:  Mnmm, 12 months apart.  Surprise.  But wouldn't have it any other way.  You have a little one, how old?

NP:  He's -----.  I really want another though.  It would be great for ------- to have a sibling

Me:  Oh how swe......

NP: No really.  I want another one.  Right now.   (all said in the same stern tone)

Me:   Huh...Laugh   head down inner voice wtf?  is this a ...  no but  wtf? do you say? 

Except walking out the door it came to me.  My  inner voice stood right up..."damn hon, I don't swing that way* but if I did, you'd still have to buy me some wine before demanding your cookie and some icing to boot".         

*(don't worry, we're a very gay-friendly family unit here)

                  

5 freakin a.m. in tha mutha a.m:  Youngest child screaming. Why?  No seriously, I want to know why the screaming.  Oh yeah, I have to get out of bed due to the lack of spousal presence.  Is that gurgling?  Trying to wrap brain around getting child out of crib, place bottle in her mouth, and find the baby's medicine.  We don't like gurgling, gurgling is bad.

5:30 freakin a.m. in tha now mutha freakin a.m.:  Oldest daughter crying. Why? Oh wait, she wants to join in on all the excitement.  Woo Hoo, party at my house.

6:30 a.m.:  Finally over whatever ridiculous anger has sprung forth from such a rude awakening and am ready to carry on the day.  Proceed to get ready only to have youngest fall asleep before heading out the door.  Don't blame her, in fact move over and make room for mom.  Can't though, oldest is hell bent on sticking this day out. 

All said, it was one of those days that comforts you, and I took care to take notice of everything.

                                                          * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fast food playground.  The weather here has been disgustingly hot and humid and this is what I keep telling myself whenever the guilt monster rears.  Thought it would be neat to take the girls to the indoor thingy and quickly realized we were outnumbered.  By older children.  Who wanted to TOUCH  the babies.  And hoist them up in wobbly motions.  I managed to stifle the screams my inner voice was emitting and then, being as parents were no where to be found, quickly became the adult.  That's a weird feeling, out of control one second and then making the conscious decision that this shit is gonna stop and voila...old crotchety biddy lady.  And the strangest thing happened.  Not only did these kids listen, they raised their hands when I asked one at a time.  What a great power this adult thing is.  I shall now conquer the world, please excuse me.

And right as things were going great -

8 yr old performing some horrifying 80's manuever: is this a dance?

Me:  way back in the day yes

8 yr old still dancing: wow, that's old huh.  So you were around when they did the Cabbage Patch?  that's old.

Me: inner self screaming again and pretty soon I'm gonna let her just go OFF - Yep. that's pretty dog gone old   

                                                                       

Up pleaassee

4:50 a.m.   Daaamn it, I really should have been up 10 minutes ago.  Blink eyes, focus on husband   who is  freshly showered and leaning over whispering something about fresh coffee

5:10 a.m.  Out of shower and coffee in hand. Blink eyes, focus on husband asking if I really, truly want to drop him off at the base.  Swallow lump in throat, sniffle *thanks summer cold* and cough, tell him that I wouldn't have it any other way.

5:25 a.m.  Bottles in hand, we each grab a baby from their respective cribs and quickly ready them for car ride.

5:26 a.m.  Oldest cooperates, youngest looks loopy and decides her parents are on drugs and must be met with some degree of protest.  Commence body wrenching/diaper changing

5:50 a.m. We're on the road and babies, still cooperating.  Good thing 'cause if that guy who just cut in front of us, with only an atom to spare between us, did that with babies screaming...let the rubber bumping begin

Pull into base with maximum time to spare and sigh. A deep guttural sigh.  He'll be gone for three weeks.  And this is one of the easy ones.  Something I should be thankful for.  But I'm gonna miss his CNN watching, crazy humored self.  He gives the youngest a kiss and heads over to Annabella.  She smiles, yawns, drops her bottle, locks eyes and asks for "UP, pweeezzze?"

Husband kisses her forehead, tells her he'll be back soon but he has to go to work now.  She's not buying it but settles back down into her car seat.   Coming around the car now to say goodbye and I'm into full denial mode.  Quick kiss, long hug *taking in the smell of his clean uniform/aftershave* and he's off to the pier.  Within seconds we're back on the road, through the tunnel, at our front door. 

I decided to try this journal thing out for a while, to get a few things out and to have some sort of running record for husband when he comes home.  Something tangible and non-papery *something the baby can't eat*  I'm along for the ride now and excited to see where this goes. For now though, I miss you hon, I really, truly miss you.  Looking forward to August more than ever.