Last freakin’ week was a BUMMER!

What a freakin’ week I had last week.  It was a BUMMER.

Sunday 3/18/2012:

It started off with a phone call from my momma last weekend bright and early in the morning, “I’m heading to Baltimore.  Your cousin Brian committed suicide.”

Of course, the first words out of my mouth were, “Do I need to come up there?”

No, no I don’t, she tells me.  I don’t have to go.  They don’t know what’s happening yet.  They don’t know yet if there’s even going to be a funeral.  It all is still fresh, she doesn’t know much else, but she’s heading to Baltimore as soon as my aunt came in from Richmond.  They were riding together to head to Baltimore to hold my other aunt’s hand.  Poor woman.  I couldn’t imagine.  Her only son.  She is the one that found him hanging there, too.  I don’t know what I would’ve done.  But I do believe she’s braver than I am.  I don’t know that I’d still be walking if I were in that situation.

Tuesday night 3/20/2012:

(Hysterical sobbing coming through the front door)  “Ummm, she fell.”  Says one of neighborhood kids.

My poor Big Girl.  Bloody, messy road rash from around her eyebrow bone down to her chin.  Mouth pouring blood.  Hobbling on one leg.  Knee pouring blood too.  Wonderful.

The hysterical crying goes on for a good thirty minutes.  I can’t see inside her mouth, all I can tell is the pouring blood won’t stop.  And she won’t let me look in there.  But all I can see is blood spewing out.

I call the dentist.  Of course, they’re closed.  Thankfully, their wonderful pediatric dentist has her cell phone on the answering machine in case of an emergency.  I called her.  She says she’d meet me tonight, or wait until the morning.  Finally, I get her to calm down.  I choose morning after talking to the dentist and getting Big Girl calmed down.

Big Girl of course, won’t eat dinner.  Won’t take a shower.  Won’t brush her teeth.

So of course, Boy doesn’t want to do any of it either.

Finally: bed time.

Wednesday 3/21/2012:

12:05AM – (puke, puke, puke) (cry, cry, cry) (puke, puke, puke) (cry, cry, cry)

Holy hell.

My son has just exorcist puked everywhere.  All over his bed, all down his bed, all over himself.  All over his floor, all around his room, and all over the bathroom, toilet, and floor.  So disgusting.

This has been the best six hours of my life.  (As I roll my eyes…)

I finally get him cleaned up.  And the floor.  And his bed stripped of bedding.  And the bathroom cleaned.  And a load of laundry started.  Then he wants to sleep with me.  No f’ing way.  Are you kidding me?!  Puke Pants McGee?  In my bed?  I don’t f’ing think so.  Instead I say, “You can sleep on my floor buddy, right beside me, ok?  I’ll make you a little bed.”

He nods like it’s the best thing on earth!  Both my big children love to sleep on the floor (this I don’t understand, but they do it all the time! – by choice!)  So I make him a bed on the ground.  I think I fall back asleep finally around 1:30am maybe – maybe.

2Am –  I hear little feet racing across my bathroom floor.  Then I hear puke.  Here we go again.

3AM – Puke.

4AM – Puke.

5AM – Puke.  And more puke.

6AM – Puke.

7AM – Puke.

8AM – Puke.  Headed to dentist with Big Girl.

9AM – Thankfully, from what the x-ray shows, Big Girl only chipped a tooth.  But, from how swollen her mouth is, dentist can’t see much else.  She won’t do anything until next appointment.  Until then, good luck.  See you next week.  Great :/

3:15PM – Doctor with all 3 kids, for Boy.  Strep test.  Negative – thank God.  Even though Big Girl just had strep.  Woo hoo!   Just a stomach bug. Gross.

Thursday 3/22/2012

Big Girl stayed home.  Forced Boy to go to school.  No fever, no pukes.  But we missed the bus.  So I drive him.  Still have Big Girl home.  She kinda gets on my nerves all day.  She’s bored with being home for the second day in a row.  I had to pack for me, my hubby, and Baby Girl to head to Maryland for the night.  Big kids went to their dad’s after school so we could head to Maryland for the viewing and funeral.

8PM – Arrived at hotel in Maryland.

8:20PM – Left for funeral home for the viewing.

Friday 3/24/2012

11AM – Funeral for my cousin.  Who was about six months older than I was.  That’s it.  He was born only six months earlier than I was.  And he took his own life.  We grew up together.  It makes me so sad.  And mad that he could do that to his family.  To his children.  To his mother.  And sisters.  And the rest of his friends and family.  And everyone dealing with the fallout of it.  He got to escape the pain, all the while pushing it onto others.  It’s selfish really.

3PM – Finally heading home.  DC traffic on a Friday?  Gross.

7PM – Finally home.  Paradise.  Hubby and I talk about how wonderful it is to be at home.  What a great life we have together.  How magical it is to be home.

Praying for a better week…

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Dare I say, glory hole?

As I sat down to think about what to write tonight, I hear, “Dare I say, glory hole?” come from the TV.  Needless to say, my husband is home.  And controlling the remote.

We are watching Gold Rush: Alaska.  Well, we aren’t.  But he is.

I never ever EVER get to watch my own TV shows!  I am a stay-at-home mom, yes.  So I know a lot of people out there think all I probably do is watch TV.  I should have taken a picture of my DVR to show you guys…it’s definitely not what goes on around here (although I really wish it was!).  I seriously have 4 hours of Grey’s Anatomy left to watch.  (And that’s a BIG deal!)  Plus, hours on end of Law and Order: SVU (5), CSI: NY (3), New Girl (3), Ellen (5) – just from the last set that I deleted that I never watched, a bunch of random TV shows I recorded, Beyond Scared Straight (5), and I could go on and on and on…

I do a LOT during the day.  I don’t normally sit down until after the kids are in bed, from the time we get up in the morning.  I get up, make lunches, get kids ready for school and off to school, have a baby all day, who sleeps for about 20-30 minutes at a time here and there; I clean all day.  I have a baby to clean up after, I have a huge ass gross, smell, disgusting English bulldog to clean up after – his groomer has actually told me, “Man, he sheds really bad for a short-haired dog, doesn’t he?”  No shit.  You should see my vacuum canister after just the living room – after ONE day.  It’s completely full.  In just one room.  He sheds awful.  So I have to vacuum, sweep and mop everyday.  Plus I do school work, and take care of three kids on a daily basis.

Back to what my complaint is…I want more time to sit on my big old fat ass and watch tv…I want a life where I do nothing.  Is that so much to ask?!  But when I do seem to be able to sit down and watch TV, the hubster is always home.  And guess what?  Me being the absolute perfect, awesome, best wife in the WORLD (nice, huh?) I let him watch what he wants, because he’s never home to do so, except late at night.  Even though I’m home all day, and have the opportunity to sit down and watch TV, I choose not to.  He can’t watch it because he’s never home.  And that’s not out of his mouth, it’s out of mine.  He really does work crazy hard, and seriously long hours, and mostly 6 days a week.  Then he comes home and cooks sometimes, because he’s really good at it and enjoys it.  Then he finally sits down after 9 – on a good night.  Seriously.  9pm for him to sit down at night – that’s a really good night.  So yes, being the best wife in the world, I let him take over the TV, even though it’s the first time I’ve sat down all day too (if I’ve even gotten the chance yet!).  Or when I do get to, he’s already in control of the remote…

So it’s always man shows.  Like Gold Rush: Alaska.  Or drag racing.  Or poker.  Or something manly.  I’m not all against man TV.  I like a lot of the shows we watch together.  But some of them like Ax Men, Gold Rush, poker, Moonshiners, random stupid stuff like that – I definitely can’t get on board with.  I love my husband dearly, but I don’t like his choice of TV shows much.

Just my random thought of the night…

Anyone else out there not a fan of whatever else their spouse watches?  Or is it just me?