Skip to main content

There's a Difference

October 30, 2016

Dear Todd,

I'm so glad the trek to Chicago today was not in vain. GO CUBBIES!!!

Cuz I was starting to think the curse was spreading out into our house when you left for the airport with my (remaining) car key.  Now...the fact that the car key was in the car you took and not on my key ring, needs some explaining. Not justifying...not excusing...just explaining. Because it would be such a different feeling if the key was misplaced due to me having so much irresponsible fun that I was flakey.
That was not the case.
There's a difference.
And, for my own sanity,  I NEED you to acknowledge the difference and not perhaps think in the back of your mind that had I been more organized, this wouldn't have happened. Because that kind of thinking can get a person shivved.

In order to paint the full happenings of such a mishap we will need to go back to Thursday night where in I stayed up (for the 3rd night in a row of crap-ass sleep) with our eldest and pulled him through Yemen, Peer Feedback, Linear Algebra, Photography, and Creative Writing.  When I say "pulled" him...I do not mean "did his homework." I mean pullllled him. Because had I done the homework, we would've gone to bed at 10pm. Instead, I encouraged and nudged him to stay awake until he was finished at 1:45am. It wasn't so much that there was a ton of homework, rather that his extra curricular stuff on that day did not allow him to start his homework until 9pm, and his brain had gone to bed around 8:45pm.

Fast forward, to massive cleaning and scrambling to have costumes finished, pumpkins to carve, and food for Friday night where we had friends over to watch the Cubs lose.  Tried to sleep, let the dog out twice in the middle of the night and then "Cock-a-f'n-doo!" it was Sat morning and we had to be at the soccer field. Watched soccer, raced to hip-hop, and then off to Parkour before returning home to frantically get everyone dressed in costumes to go check out Treat Street briefly so we could hurry back to watch the Cubs lose again.

It was in the heat of the moment of racing back to catch the game, that I dropped my keys on the ground while trying to get into the car. The silver car's key fell off, and so I just grabbed it and put it in the arm rest so that I didn't waste time messing with it.

We raced home. Swore at the TV and went to bed. Tomorrow, I would be taking you to the airport in the red car and then taking the kids to the Denver Zoo.

After another crappy night of sleep, I woke up to our 12 year old standing over me. I hate that by the way. It's so creepy!!!! Turns out he'd been trying to wake me for sometime. He was sick. And having trouble breathing.

He and I went down and sat on the couch together from 5-7am, until it was time to wake you to say, "All plans have changed while you were sleeping. Our son is sick. We're not going anywhere. You have to drive yourself. Take the red car. Have a great time." And so you did.

And it wasn't until I decided to go get groceries, because I couldn't have a cup of coffee until I did, that I realized I was up the old "creek of doodoo" sans paddle. There in the garage was a large vehicle for hauling people and food and such.  And there, at Denver Airport, miles away, was the only key.

"Huh," I audibly sighed. And then again, "Huh." Perplexed as to how one might get through the next few days with 3 kids (one who seemed pretty sick), no food and obligations like school, tennis, climbing, etc without a car.  I felt a little bit like a double leg amputee that had been challenged to a 3-legged race.

To cut to the chase...by nothing short of a miracle, we received a "loaner" for the week from good friends, and the Cubs won game five. I'm still so overwhelmed from all the stressful build up, that I'm still f'n awake.

So when I lock all of us out of the house tomorrow, but left the oven on and the dog inside, I NEED you to know I'M TIRED...not just a total idiot. And this shit is hard.




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

12 and 3/4

September 22, 2016 Dear Todd, I am writing to tell you that we have a teenager. Rest assurred that in the midst of my own mental deteriation I have not forgotten his birthday. I know that technically, we have another 2 months until his 13th trip around the sun has come to completion...but he is already showing signs. So I have decided to begin documentation. I think it's gonna be a good time, if he can just keep himself alive. And to that effect, I call upon the Gods of Brains with this plea. Oh Mighty Gods Of Wisdom that is Teen, Please put down your iPhone 7's, And all that comes in form of screen. Please look upon those Whom, like a sponge, absorb our changing world But without really thinking, try to process With emotions that come unfurled Let him always choose To look both ways Focus on what he loves And get straight A's? All right, the grades would be An extra perk But, please just let him Understand hard work And let him choose wisely Whe...

Doggy Doggy, Where's Your Bonehead?

September 28th, 2016 Our dog Petey:  He's sitting in the kennel, with me. Why? Why is he in here with me? Why are we both not out in the great big world? Whether that be our living room, backyard, neighborhood, or dog park. Why are we both in this kennel? We can't even play in here. We can't even sleep comfortably.  And everybody is home.  It's not like you all went out and I climbed in here to take a nap. And he lured me in with a treat. What's his excuse? Why is he in here? WHY?!? What we hear: BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! Woof! Awwoooof! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! Me: (upon finding the source of barking and giggling while opening the locked kennel) What the?!? WHY?!?! A: (Laughing still) I don't know.

This Bud's for you

December 14th, 2016 Dear Todd, We went to see the Budweiser Clydesdales yesterday.  It was cool. They are seriously large horses--like Tyranahorses. Pretty sure that's what they're called. Pretty sure. And if I call them that enough, it will stick and they will be known as the Budweiser Tyranahorse, because we are living in a world where we can say whatever the f**k we want and not only will there be no consequence, but the word will be added to Webster's top Fab Five Fictious Phenomenons. But I digress... So we saw the horses. And as we were making our way back past them for the second time--aka "our farewell tour"--practicing our parade waves---one of our children shrieked and proceeded to shame Eric, the Clydesdale.  It would appear that Eric was giving me yet another teaching moment wherein I could explain the origin and meaning of the expression, "Hung like a horse." And so, I'd like to say, "Thank you, Eric. I really don't...