As Coach and I prepared to head out of town, I spent hours mapping out a plan so that each kid had rides to activities that were necessary. I was exhausted trying to supply everyone who graciously involved themselves in our getaway with the correct phone numbers, addresses, and instructions necessary to make the weekend as smooth as possible. The month of May is busy with year end school celebrations, family First Communion parties, and my need to wrap up all of my work responsibilities until I would return in late August. Adding a long weekend away was another stress.
My mom would have the kids Friday afternoon until they were picked up by friends. She was scheduled to be back at the house in time for them to be dropped off on Sunday at 3:00pm. A neighbor would drive the kids to school on Monday, so my mom only had to deal with the morning routine without any guilt about a tardy attendance mark . . . honestly, what is one more tardy at this point in the school year? The two gifts for the two different birthday parties that Tetonka and Mini would attend were purchased and wrapped in advance. Baseball gear was packed in Reggie's bag for his Saturday game, and his coach was given a cell number to call in case the game finished early and his ride wasn't there yet. Irish dancing snacks were tucked into Mini's bag for the long workshop she would attend. Rides for Eddie's basketball tournaments on Saturday and Sunday were set up and directed to pick him up and drop him off at his best friend's house. Laddie was instructed to pack his caddy clothes and to perform the impossible task of getting ready quietly at his buddy's house for his early morning caddy round. Clothes appropriate for the weather were packed into four different bags. Laddie and Eddie packed their own bags without too much input from me. Curly's baby bear was added to her bag at the last minute, so she could sleep at night. After all this, I felt like sleeping all day!
I stayed up packing my own bags, sending last minute reminder emails, and stacking chocolate chip cookies (previously baked and stored in the freezer) on paper plates with each family's name attached as gifts to their hosts. I fell into bed after midnight and rose at 4:30 am. I spent a few hours trying to quietly make the house look presentable, and searching for my bathing suit bottom that disappeared as soon as I was ready to pack it. I was checking under the couch balancing on my knees and one elbow while reaching under the couch with my free hand. I believe I was performing a yoga move, but I failed miserably. I lost my balance as I tried to free a set of star wars light sabers that were lodged under the couch. I toppled over onto a structure built to house batman, princesses, and star wars guys alike and perhaps the occasional Barbie - although her height deemed her a threat to the compound. It had been rebuilt several times in the last few weeks, but was always comprised of the same components: a hard plastic formed batman castle, magnet blocks, wooden blocks, and at times a castle or doll house. The doll house had been added as an after thought by from the girls' room by determined little hands when they thought I wasn't looking. The family has come to accept this eye soar's constant presence in the middle of the floor.
Anyway, I flopped over, crushing it and more importantly damaging what used to be known as my right butt cheek. Coach found me writhing in pain moments after my 'fall'. It is admittedly hard to call it a fall, since I was kneeling on the floor to begin with. Reggie, who was perched on the couch with a scrunched up morning face, witnessed the entire clumsy event. I had a hard time catching my breath, but when I could speak Reggie jumped into action as soon as I croaked out the command, "Clean this up!" Coach, forever the physical therapist, strapped a bag of frozen fruit to my ass, and informed me that in the morning light my suit bottom had surfaced on the top of our comforter. Perfect, it was right where I had left it after all.
You are familiar with the saying, "What a pain in the ass?" Well, perhaps leaving town was just that - too much of a pain in the ass for me to manage.
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