Monday, June 6, 2016

Letting It Go

The week had been a busy one.  The kids had school holidays although we did keep Emily going through the break so she could take some time off later in the semester (the beauty of online school).

As expected, the kids were full of energy so we did a few outings which I felt sure would exhaust them to the point where they would sleep for several days.  Apparently that only works for adults and the kids just keep up the non stop carnage momentum while the adult takes a well deserved nap.  This is a very dangerous phenomenon.

In an effort to pull the house back from the brink of self implosion we instituted a working bee on the Friday morning.  The kids each got a “zone” to bring order to and I started working on the kitchen.  Their zones were all at the floor level since my aged back doesn’t like bending anymore. 

When I clean in the mornings I tend to prefer doing it before I shower and get dressed because it seems wrong to get all cleaned up and then have to put my hands down a toilet.  So that morning I was doing dishes, vacuuming and scrubbing things while wearing my nightgown.  The nightgown was not particularly exciting but it was rather short.  If anyone had happened to peer through my windows that day they may have become blinded, especially if I happened to be bending over at the time. 

Anyway, things were going well as far as the cleaning.  The zones were working extremely well and the threats of pleasures withheld were working like a charm to keep the kids on task.

At some point during the frenzy I was overtaken with a desire to use the bathroom.  On my way there I discovered that the door into the garage was standing open.  Not only that, the garage door to the outside was also open.  I didn’t have the pelvic floor strength to be able to investigate immediately but I did yell out to whoever happened to be listening inquiring where the dog was.  This was followed by a quick search for the dog who was found to be taking a nap under the footstool.  At that time Emily asked “where is Isabel?”

I ran to the front room and looked out the window at which time we discovered exactly where she was.  She had indeed escaped the cleaning frenzy and was at that time enjoying a meetup on the cul de sac island with her neighborhood friend and the friend’s babysitter.  I would have no problem with her playing with her friend, no problem with her playing on the island (we all meet there regularly and let the kids play), my problem at that moment (apart from her leaving the house on her own) was that she was at that time dressed in only a pullup and a Doc McStuffins dressup coat.  No shoes, no shirt, nothing.  She had previously been dressed but at some point during our cleanup she had decided that clothes were not for her and had stripped off. 

My other problem was that I was in no state to stride out there and retrieve her.  I asked Emily to go and get her but after several minutes it was clear that she had also fallen into the trap of the great outdoors and seemed to have no intentions of returning inside.  At that point I attempted to find a section of my front door that would somewhat cover my scantily clad body and cracked the door open just a fraction so I could call out to Emily to get back inside.  I eventually achieved my end, I’m not sure if the babysitter saw more of me than she ever hoped to but I am certain I amused her nonetheless. 

After a reprimand and a sending to her room we continued in our pursuit of cleanliness.  It wasn’t until later when I was satisfied that the state of the house had moved from “send the pictures to the hoarders tv show” to “we almost did it” that I went upstairs to take a shower and get dressed. 

As I walked passed the laundry room in my newly cleansed and dressed body I decided to switch the washing and tell myself what an outstanding housewife I was.  I opened the lid of the washing machine and was met with the sight of about 12 cups of powdered laundry detergent generously sprinkled on top of a load of previously clean clothes. 

Isabel was chatting and singing to herself and her toys in her room and raised her head just long enough to grin at me as I stood there in shock before she turned back, singing “wet it gooooo, wet it gooooo, can’t hold it back anymooooooore.  Wet it gooooo, wet it goooo, turn away and slam that doooooooor”.

Monday, April 25, 2016

My Amazing Body

My body is pretty amazing, it may not look amazing but it has done some amazing things.  It has gone incredibly fast (ok, it was in an aeroplane but I think it still counts), it has climbed to the top of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, it has carried and given birth to four children.  My body also has some interesting quirks.  I never knew they were quirks until they were observed by my husband.  He assures me that I am quite strange but I just know there are other’s out there who are similarly afflicted.

One thing my body does and I have absolutely no control over it is it gets frights.  I mean, I can hear someone coming towards me, think to myself ‘there is someone coming, don’t get a fright’ and then scream and leap skywards the moment they appear.  I have discovered that this does not improve with excessive “therapeutic” exposure so you can all stop sneaking up on me now. 

The other night I was on the phone to James, it was late, there were mousey noises in the crawl space off our bedroom and I was in the process of releasing one of our cats into the area to catch the little critter.  Did I mention it was late at night?  James was all the way in India and I had mildly elevated “I’m going to be eaten alive” levels.  So when I felt a creepy hand being placed on my shoulder from behind I understandably jumped up screaming into the phone and almost fell headlong through the crawl space door where the rodent of extreme size was lurking.  I simultaneous scared the bejeebers out of the dog, the cat and the Emily who was attached to the hand.  I turned around to find her doing a speedy backwards upside down crawl to get away from the monster who had her mothers body.  Do you know what James did?  Besides book himself in for a hearing aide fitting?  Yes, people, he laughed at me. 

Another thing my body does, or rather does not do is that I am thoroughly unable to walk in a straight line, I cannot touch my finger to my nose and I also cannot put my finger to the middle of my lips in the “shhhhh” position.  In fact all my kids have mimicked shhhhing as small children by putting their finger to their cheek.  Its not because they are uncoordinated its because they are copying me!!  I’m not that great at the “head, shoulders, knees and toes” song either.  I would definitely not pass one of those tests the police do when they suspect you’ve been drinking and driving.  And forget trying to say the alphabet backwards, who made that one up?  I would fail it stone cold sober which is how I am all the time because I don’t need to drink alcohol to be in a state of deep confusion. 

I have terrible balance, I always have, it’s a wonder I can stand up at all some days.  I’ve had doctors marvel at my lack of coordination and balance and back in the day I even disrupted a beginners step class taking out other participants in the process, from the back row.  Seriously I have skills, just not the right ones.

Another thing my body does with stunningly frequent regularity (no, not that!) is that as I start swallowing a drink it suddenly decides, completely independent of my intentions, to reverse the swallowing action.  This results in a kind of convulsing, silent cough, tears streaming down my face until one of two things happens.  Either I get the spasm under control and continue to swallow the liquid or I spray it all over whoever is near me at the time. 

Along the same lines, I also quite regularly forget to put the cup to my lips when taking a drink.  I just pour it out down my front or into my lap.  I can’t quite explain this one, it just happens.  There have been times when I’ve done this right before needing to be somewhere and I have convinced myself that anyone seeing me would assume I was attacked by one of my small children.  As the children get older that assumption gets weaker and weaker.  Soon I’ll need to wear a bib for eating and drinking.  I did it the other day while driving the car and managed to stain my top and make it look like I had peed my pants at the same time. 

I love light rooms and sunshine during the day.  I turn on lights just so its bright sometimes (ok, all the time).  I get very annoyed when I lose the ability to see colours very well after dark.  On the flipside of that, I cannot sleep with even the hint of artificial lights.  My husband is addicted to technology and has all kinds of gadgets that make their way into our sleeping space.  There are blue lights, red lights, yellow lights, a whole rainbow of those tiny little annoying indicator lights on various gadgets.  Lights that blink fast, lights that blink slow, ones that randomly turn on at 3 am and some that I swear are doing Morse Code in a last ditch effort to get me to press a button and release the tiny robots that are living inside.  The fact that I have kids who are terrified of their stuffed animals if the lights are off results in our house being lit up like a Christmas tree at night.  It has taken me 40 years to figure out that I could simply use a sleeping mask to overcome this annoyance (and spare my family from my sleep mutterings which apparently are not very kind). 

I got a sleep mask the other day (or eye bra as my children have dubbed it) and tried it out.  It was blissful.  I woke up through the night and opened my eyes.  Still pitch dark out.  Time for more sleeping.  Problem was it was neither pitch dark out nor was it still the middle of the night.  Oops, serious oversleeping that day!!  I’m not sure why my family didn’t wake me but it probably had something to do with my generally unkind reactions to being woken unless there is the sweet smell of coffee accompanying the waker.

I found out the other day that I also have a thing that actually has a name.  I had previously tried to tell James that I wasn’t weird to be this way and that other people also have it but he wouldn’t believe me but its true, its a real thing.  I have sun sneezing.  It’s where you sneeze when you go out in bright sunlight.  Its got nothing to do with allergies or dust or anything else.  It mostly happens in the sun but very bright lights can set it off too.  It makes me happy that other people are similarly afflicted. 

My greatest fear in life has now become stepping outside into the bright sunshine while taking a sip of coffee with someone sneaking up behind me.  The only thing worse than that would be if I wasn’t wearing adequate incontinence protection at the time.

Wednesday, March 2, 2016

Let Sleeping Mummy’s Lie

My children have always known that it’s a bad idea to wake me up when I’m sleeping.  Even while in utero Emily chose to wake James by kicking him in the back while leaving me peacefully sleeping (don’t ask me how she managed that).  Of course James woke me to share the blessed news and then promptly went back to snoring leaving me laying there awake in the middle of the night while Emily practiced her nocturnal karate.

James is currently traveling for work and during his absence I have been inflicted with quite a number of sleep interruptions.  He was originally meant to be gone for one week, seven sleeps, but on the night of the 4th sleep (half way through which I planned on celebrating making it to the half way mark of the trip) he called to say things weren’t going as well as they could be and he was going to have to stay an extra week (actually an extra 8 sleeps).  There have been plenty of opportunities now for sleep interruptions.  Here are some of them.

One night I was woken to find myself being slapped in the face by a Chewbacca mouse toy on the other end of which was one of our cats, Optimus Prime.  Seriously, I’m not making that up.  I think Chewbacca is still buried in my bed somewhere.  Now Optimus Prime makes it a nightly habit to “find” his Stormtrooper mouse toy from a corner of my room where it has presumably escaped to.  After finding the toy he proceeds to parade his “kill” around the house eventually making it to my bed where he flings it around for a while.  I’m not quite sure when the Stormtrooper makes his escape and hides back in the corner but apparently he’s not that smart because he always hides in the same place.

Another night we had an extremely bad thunderstorm, in February, when its supposed to be winter.  I was rather annoyed that someone kept turning the lights on and off until I figured it out (not at my cognitive best at 3 am).  A different night we had another storm, just wind this time but I did get up to see if there was anything very big being blown around.  I had no plans to save us from big things being blown around so I’m not sure why I looked but it made me feel better.

On several nights I was joined by little visitors who completed the night next to me.  Most of the time this made we wake with a start after they had probably been there for quite some time (serious delayed reactions).  One early morning though, I woke up with such a fright and nearly screamed in terror when I sensed a child sneaking around my bed in a failed attempt to retrieve her phone from my headboard where it lives overnight.  She didn’t even stop when I had almost had a heart attack and then promptly fallen back asleep.  She just kept sneaking and I kept waking with a start.  This happened at least three times, although reports from witnesses vary.  Later I was sure there were two of them doing it which resulted in an epic meltdown from the innocent one I had falsely accused.  I still say she’s guilty because I’m sure if she’d thought of it she would have done it too.

One morning the dog had either escaped or been let out of her crate too early and she came to greet me with a huge amount of joyful barking.  I didn’t feel as joyful as she did, I was especially unjoyful at the thought of her needing to go out to the bathroom and yet being unable to open the door herself.  I was most unjoyful about her bathroom backup plan which is to do it on the floor. 

Two mornings I was roused by the same child with different problems.  The first time she had woken well in advance of my alarm clock and apparently won the prize for being the first and only person in the house who was awake.  This excited her so much that she felt the need to come and share this news with me and ask “what should I do now?”  She was a bit puzzled when my garbled reply was that she should get dressed, have breakfast and be ready for school. 

This morning she turned up to tell me that there was something in her eye, most likely a spider.  I told her it was more likely to be sleep (you know, the little crusty bits that form in the corners of your eyes) her reply was that it couldn’t be because she wasn’t asleep anymore.  Once again I lacked the cognitive ability to explain this and since it was still dark out I was forced to turn on my light and investigate this fierce eyeball spider for myself.  I couldn’t even see crusty bits let alone a spider and after I managed to convince her of this I was too awake to go back to sleep. 

I don’t know what the next few nights will bring, I keep thinking it can’t get any stranger but I should know better than that by now.  All I know is that I can’t wait for James to be back again so he can take care of at least some of these nighttime shenanigans and I can get some uninterrupted sleep.

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

You're Allergic To What?

The morning after my last post we had an allergist appointment for Abigail to figure out why she had come out in a full body rash a few weeks ago (requiring a late night ER visit).  It went well and they discovered she has a fairly mild and typical reaction to some seasonal plants but that the rash was probably not due to any of these things.  The final answer on the reaction "it was possibly viral even though she wasn't sick, there's nothing more to do about it.  If it happens again take more antihistamines".

While we were there the doctor noticed a spot on one of Isabel’s legs, she commented that we might like to stop by the pediatrician’s office on the way out because it looked odd. 

I dutifully did this and the triage nurse went back and forth on whether I should see a doctor until finally settling on yes.  The appointment was made for later in the afternoon since I was at that point going to pick James up so we could arrange a rental car large enough to accommodate everyone while my car was being worked on.

We went home and I honestly can’t remember what I did, I think I cleaned something but you can’t tell. I probably fed a few kids.  I can’t really be sure, life is a bit of a blur right now.  Thanks to an amazing neighbor who offered to oversee the older three children as they ran through the neighborhood I was able to go back to the doctor with just Isabel.  It is a rare treat to do a doctors visit without hecklers.

We saw a very experienced doctor who took one look at the rash and donned gloves.  He inspected it, turning her leg this way and that.  Finally he said he thought it looked most like shingles but that shingles are not possible in a two year old.  He invited four additional doctors to come and look at it.  They all squeezed into this tiny room and vied for a spot close to the leg in question.  Isabel acted like this was the most normal thing ever.  They all agreed that it did look remarkably like shingles.  Their professional diagnostic words were “well, its weird”.  Their only other suggestion was that it could be a spider bite but if it spread, as it appeared to be doing, then that couldn’t be it in which case they were back to shingles. 

Their treatment plan was this.  “In either case there is nothing we can do”.  Ok, then.  That was what I was planning before the visit so that’s wonderful.  Thank you for your time.  Before we could go we had to have her leg pose for a quick photo so they could add it to their book of weird things.  Their camera had run out of batteries so one of the nurses took the picture with her phone.

Later that afternoon I was conferring with another neighbor about this rash.  She did some research and came to show me a bunch of photos that we agreed looked remarkably like Isabel’s rash.  It was in fact a case of poison ivy.  I’m not sure how five doctors could have missed that but there you have it.  I don’t know where she came into contact with the plant of doom but its not uncommon around here.  Yet another reason why camping in America is fraught with danger.  Between poisonous plants, poisonous creatures, poisonous insects and savage beasts I’m feeling more and more at ease with the inside of my house right now.

We had another reason to visit the emergency room a few weeks ago too.  We had come home late in the afternoon after going for a drive.  The kids spilled out of the car and went straight for the front lawn.  James and I sat on the porch and watched as they engaged in an impromptu soccer game.  It was pretty funny to watch.  None of them were really dressed for sport and the puppy was joining it as well.  They set up goals and raced up and down.  Kaitlyn (the only actual soccer player among them) tried to tell them when they needed to do different kinds of throw ins or kicks.  Abigail and Isabel were wearing bike helmets and Isabel had even found a stick with a yellow flag attached which she would wave at anyone who got close to her. 

As we watched them playing it reinforced in our minds that Emily should stick to figure skating as her sport of choice.  She had difficulty connecting foot to ball and was seriously inhibited by her need to jump, spin and do cartwheels.  During one such play there was a mid air collision between Emily and Kaitlyn which looked vaguely reminiscent of a kung fu movie.  Unfortunately Kaitlyn came out of it screaming. 

The game was over and we went inside.  We applied ice to Kaitlyn’s shin and could see a bump and bruise developing.  I didn’t think it was too serious but she assured us she couldn’t stand on the leg.  We had recently discovered that there is an emergency room just 10 minutes from our house.  I packed her back into the car and we headed off to the ER.  She insisted on a wheelchair and I agreed because the alternative was to carry her and I figured if I did I’d be booking myself in for a back injury.

The doctors and nurses were lovely.  They ordered an x-ray and then we waited for the results.  They came in and it was decided that since there was no break what we were dealing with was a garden variety contusion.  They gave me a handout and we prepared to leave.  Now remember, this kid had been wheeled in, unable to bear weight on her severely injured leg less than an hour earlier.  She had refused an ice pack because the weight of it hurt too much. 

So of course she skipped out of there happily waving goodbye to all the staff.

I am now receiving love letters from this new to us hospital.  They apparently appreciate our business and look forward to seeing us again soon. 

Sunday, September 6, 2015

Green Boots, Black Tyres

I am going to preface this post by saying that for a while now our family has been going through some extremely tough times.  There is a lot of heaviness and definitely more tough times ahead as we live with sickness in our midst and are faced with the mortality of James' mom. This in turn reminds us of our own short time here on Earth. 

Whether you come from a position of faith or not it is important to note that we do.  When I say I thank God for something, I really do mean it.  I actively thank Him on a daily basis for the ways He provides for us and provides relief for us.  Sometimes it feels like we can’t go another step but again and again we are amazed at our capacity, which I know is a gift from God.  I thank God every day that He gifted me with a sense of humour.  This is often the only reason I’m standing at the end of the day and not huddled, rocking and mumbling to myself in a corner somewhere.  I do believe that if it weren’t for my ability to see the funny side of things in the, quite frankly bizarre, happenings of our family, I would be in a home for the bewildered.  I really do.

I’d like to say this day’s events are rare but sadly they are not.  Right now we deal with crazy, dramatic, out of the ordinary events on an almost daily basis.  I hope life doesn’t continue like this because it is wearing us out but I’m glad we have discovered humour amongst the outrageousness.

A few days ago we celebrated the beginning of the school year.  I’m one of those unnatural mothers who dances a jig as the school bus pulls away.  I love my children with all my heart but absence makes the heart grow fonder and this is the time of the year I feel the truth in that statement. 

Not all my kids are out of the house at school though.  Emily does an online school from home but she’s a good student and doesn’t require me to sit next to her all day.  So, my new routine involves time with just Isabel for several hours of most days.  It is blissful.  That is until I realized on that second day that I had failed to factor my own cleanliness into the daily equation.  Everyone was at school or on task but I was still needing a shower. 

Our recent transition from cot to toddler bed means I can no longer put Isabel into her cot for a short playtime while I take care of my own personal hygiene.  I figured that it would be safest to take her into the bathroom with me.  What could possibly go wrong with her just a step away? 

I pulled the curtain back and was confronted by a two year old who was not only wearing a bike helmet (?) but had slathered her hands and parts of the bathroom with toothpaste.  There were a few positive things about this.  Number one, she had found the toothpaste tube I knew was around but had been unable to find for several days (its ok, there was another one but I really wanted this one).  Number two, it was white toothpaste and not blue which is harder to get off things.  And of course she smelled minty fresh and that’s never a bad thing.

After that little micro drama, followed by a quick tumble down the staircase (thank God for the bike helmet fascination she is currently having) all was well with the world.  She took a nap, I folded six thousand loads of washing and we prepared to take Emily to skating and pick up Kaitlyn from school.  We were busy but not overwhelmingly so. 

Gradually our household expanded as everyone trickled in from their various schools.  I prepped dinner to be cooked later.  It was time to pick up Emily and then go on to Kaitlyn’s very first soccer practice of the season.  On the way I had her try on her soccer boots to make sure they still fit after not wearing them all summer long. 

The noises coming from the back seat were indication that there were severe problems with the boots.  Kaitlyn can be a bit dramatic but she also has some mild sensory issues so I had to work through all that to figure out if it was a problem that needed immediate attention or whether we could muddle through one practice before trying to get new boots.  The noise escalated and although my insides started to boil and I really felt like having her ride on the roof of the car, I took a deep breath and pointed the car towards the soccer shop.  We were going to be cutting it close to make it back to the practice in time but it was either that or not go at all at that point.

I screeched into the parking lot on two wheels and raced into the shop with Kaitlyn.  I told them we had a practice in 30 minutes and they had approximately 5 minutes to sell me a pair of boots that fit.  They were amazing and got her kitted out in no time.  I felt a little bad for my inward feelings and at the same time vindicated in my decision to fix the problem immediately when I saw that she had been fitted with a size 2 boot and her old ones were size 12.5.  We ran to the car, Kaitlyn wearing the new boots, and started for the road. 

It was the beginning of evening rush hour so I had formulated a route in my head that would cut a lot of it out and hopefully still get us to practice on time.  There was a break in the traffic and I hit the gas pedal.  As my car leapt forward to join the line of traffic so did the razor sharp curb.  I swear, it jumped out and bit my tyres with its granite teeth.

I realized within microseconds that my car wasn’t handling well, a feeling that was backed up by a bystander’s slow head shake, the look on his face saying “nope, it’s over lady”.  I pulled to a stop and then inched forward very slowly to get the car off the road and into a driveway entrance out of the line of traffic.  I stepped out and saw both left hand tyres with gaping holes in them and chunks taken out of one rim.  I wasn’t going anywhere. 

It took a long time to sort this mess out.  I had to pile the kids into James’ car but since it only has five seats as opposed to my eight, he was left standing on the roadside.  He did make it home after a friend took pity on him and the tow truck had hauled my sorry looking car off to the fixing place. 

I am a shoe person.  That is an understatement.  Before this day, though, I believe Emily took the prize for the person with the most expensive pair of shoes in the household, being her figure skates.  She took the prize from me for a pair of hiking boots I have from my pre kid days (factoring in the exchange rate since I bought them in New Zealand).  Today she passed the baton to Kaitlyn whose new soccer boots cost more than both previous winners put together if you factor in the overly aggressive curb which made new tyres and rims a necessity.  Of course if I had thought to check her boots before the day of the first practice we could have avoided that whole incident.  At least the boots are green.  That’s my favourite colour and its going to make me smile when I see Kaitlyn charging down the field wearing them.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Blue Skies, Crazy Days

I’m sitting in my sewing room watching a pair of giant birds soaring around a blue sky, still reeling from the events of yesterday.  It wasn’t a tragedy but it was wall to wall crazy from morning til night. 

I was sitting in this same spot two days ago.  I was contemplating how well I had done at getting meals on the table all week, I was feeling a bit like a rock star.  People should be screaming my name as I pass by.  Oh wait, they do that already, only they think I’m their mother.  I opened my calendar to see what I had on that day and my bubble was burst.  It was only Monday.  Just what meals did I think I had created so far?  I do not know.

When I laid eyes on Abigail I realized something was not ok.  She was covered from head to toe in hives and her little face was swollen not quite beyond recognition but definitely enough to make you jump.  I spent the day giving antihistamines, going to doctors appointments and discovering that she had hives due to an unknown allergen that is silently lurking in our house or yard.  I realize this was the day before the crazy day but it relates. 

Later that night, way later, after several doses of antihistamine and worsening hives I decided to take her to the emergency room just to be sure she wasn’t going to stop breathing in the night.  They gave steroids, advised continuing antihistamines and gave a prescription for an epi pen just in case.  I got home and fell into bed sometime around midnight.

Morning came way too quickly for my liking but there was much to do.  I had plans.  The first thing to overset these plans was the wet bed of one child whose pull-up had leaked.  Laundry pushed down the line to accommodate emergency sheet washing.  Breakfast, shower, try to find bathing suit (don’t ask) and try to find position in which it makes me look like a supermodel (involves everyone in a 2 mile radius having their eyes closed unfortunately), 15 minutes of concentrated effort tidying in one room, go downstairs to find rest of house trashed by 2 year old in my absence.

Get ready to leave the house to run errands, can’t find dog.  Did I mention we got a dog?  We did, she’s a 9 month old shih poo (please for your own safety do not try to say that fast if you are anywhere near a swear jar).  Her name is Pepper and she is adorable.  She is also having her period right now.  Anyway, she was lost, couldn’t find her anywhere.  We searched the house from top to bottom and back again.  We went outside and called her name like maniacs.  I yelled at the kids for leaving doors open and even brought mosquitos into the rant.  I imagined her gallivanting around the neighborhood becoming impregnated by any mangy mutt she could lay her paws on. 

Finally Kaitlyn found her locked in the master bedroom which is currently being occupied by James’ dad (a long story).  Much later in the day he came home to find a special “gift” from Pepper.  I don’t know where she hid it because I did actually check the room to make sure any such “gift” had not been gifted.  Poor little thing had followed me in there on my bathing suit mission and got stuck. 

So we finally get to the car.  The kids were saying something about a smell but smells are nothing out of the ordinary around here.  I made it to the car and was nearly knocked on my butt by the smell of death emanating from my beautiful car.  It was then that I heard “oh, yeah, I kind of left my egg in there”.  Firstly, they are not supposed to eat in my chariot and secondly, an egg?  What the heck? Gloves, paper towels, plastic bag and lots of disinfecting spray later I had it cleaned up but man rotten eggs have serious hang time!

Finally we were on our way.  We made it to the pharmacy to pick up the prescriptions from last night, managed to divert the cries for a “selsa” balloon (Frozen) but unfortunately my back was turned when little miss long arms got hold of two stuffed My Little Pony dolls.  I let her hold them while I finished my transaction and then I told the other kids to get ready.  I wrenched them from her vice like grip, put them back with their friends and gave the command.  Run girls! To the door!  I pushed the cart and I’m quite sure I created a Doppler effect with the screams as we went.

Next stop, supermarket.  It was a quick visit, just the normal hi jinks there.  Got home in time for lunch and I made this green salsa, which we all decided we could just sit and eat with a spoon. 

Next up was a visit to the skating rink to find out why Emily had not been responding to texts all day.  She had left the phone in James’ car, which was why her GPS locator told me she was currently in a pond.  James’ car was not in a pond but apparently her phone thought it was.  While I went into the rink I left the other kids in the car (with it running and the air con on).  They listened to music while I was gone and were angelic in their countenance and still buckled into their seats when I got back.  Well, not quite.  They were listening to music.  One of them informed me that she had succumbed to an overwhelming desire to pee.  Never mind that there was a bathroom just steps away.  I had her strip off and since I had nothing for her to slip into she rode butt naked in her sister’s booster seat rolling down the window the whole way home.  I drove carefully so as not to attract the attention of any law enforcement officers.  Can you imagine explaining that?

When we got home I discovered that not only had unauthorized peeing been happening but also chewing gum had been found and consumed.  Also it had been stuck in great strands to the windows, inside and out.  I never did find out why that was.

I thought I was in the home stretch now, just dinner to prep and James would be home and then kids would go to bed and all would be well with the world.  No, that was not to be.  When we got home it was discovered that Pepper had a problem, she needed to poop (again apparently) but it was all stuck to her furry butt and causing her much discomfit.  More gloves, wipes, scissors and tail holding.  She was all cleaned up but still wasn’t quite herself.  Still, I needed to feed the hungry masses and it was already getting late.  I disinfected myself and made stuffed summer squash for dinner. 

James came home to drop Emily and then had to go back to work.  I sat with the girls at dinner time and was asked in a voice full of awe and a touch of disbelief “Mummy, were you born in 19 something?”  This question was quickly followed by more along the lines of what telephones looked like and how we survived without cellphones and the internet. 

Next, bedtime for the kids and then another look at the dog who still hadn’t perked up.  I searched the internet (how would I have coped in the olden days?) and found that dogs have anal glands.  They didn’t have these when I was a kid.  I discovered that it was now my job to “milk” these little glands of doom.  More gloves, full on bath for the dog and a good spray down with disinfectant for myself. 

Finally bedtime for me but still no James.  I had a restless night because there was no James although I did share my bed with a clean dog, an Emily, a stuffed panda, stuffed cat and stuffed dog.

I was woken this morning by a surprisingly cheerful James. He had finally made it home after working all night.  He was carrying a freshly made coffee for me.  What a guy!