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November 4, 2014

perfucked

I work on Mondays and Thursdays at my 'real' job.  I have only subbed twice so far this school year.  I make a list of things to do Monday evenings, and I have a hard time agreeing to sub on my days off when I hope to accomplish errands, work out classes, housework, and laundry.  Once Tuesday is complete, I relax knowing that I can complete whatever I didn't get done off my list on Wednesday.  I am always in awe when the clock reveals that the kids are minutes away from getting off the bus.  Rarely does the day tick away that fast when I am at work.  There is no end to the tasks that I hope to scribble off my to do list.

Today was the day.  I was going to blog.  If it killed me.  Damn it.  I decided I would start my day writing a post, and then race off to my workout class at 9:45.  Perfect.  It was all planned out. No chance to procrastinate.  Although it seems that while I get so much done in a day, my blog slides to the back burner easier than anything else. 

The phone rang at 8:05.  Curly and Reggie had departed for the bus stop over 30 minutes ago.  Eddie, Tetonka, and Mini were milling around in varying stages of preparing to walk to school.  It was Laddie.  He told me that he was in a car accident on his way to school.  No one was hurt.  Thank God.  His car was the only one damaged.  After I inquired about injuries, I told him I was on my way.  I brushed my teeth, shouted at everyone to stop screwing around, and bolted for the door. 

Halfway pulled into the library entrance across from the high school (yes, he was so close to making it safely!) was the tow truck.  Cars driving past slowed down to check out the situation.  The cop's car blocked one lane in the street with lights flashing to warn cars.  Eddie stood to the side watching our old mini van get pulled onto the bed of the tow truck.  The cop was very nice.  The man that Laddie rear ended was very nice.  The car had seen better days.  Because the pick up truck he hit was one of those pick up trucks on steroids, the bumpers didn't line up.  The 'not your grandfather's pick up truck' was elevated above our mini van so that his bumper tore back the hood and then wreaked havoc on a few of the important parts under the hood as well.  Apparently a woman darted across the street with her young child and caused one car to jam on its brakes.  The monster truck jammed on his brakes.  Laddie jammed on his brakes, but he also made impact.  Taking an educated guess I can assume that Laddie was following too close.  Perhaps it's because he chose to sleep in a bit.  He barely made a lunch for himself, grumbled at everyone within a 10 foot radius, and literally scooped a few handfuls of luke warm eggs right from the pan and shoveled them into his mouth.  Breakfast of champions?  I think not. 

By the time I arrived, the business portion of the event was almost complete.  The cop and the nice truck man greeted me and explained the pedestrian issue.  The cop explained the paperwork, and said no ticket (at which point I almost kissed him).  I drove Danny across the street to school.  With his voice choked with  emotion, he explained that he jammed on his brakes.  I told him no injuries and no ticket were good things, but I also pointed out that he wasn't allowing himself enough time to get to school.  Finally I stated what I felt was obvious, there was very little chance that we would be fixing the car.  In order to keep Laddie's insurance rates (well, I can't say normal, because the crazy expense of insuring a teen doesn't seem normal, although given the circumstances, expensive insurance rates for teen boys is hardly a battle I am in any position to wage) somewhat affordable, we opted not to carry collision on the blue mini van.  The car was on its last legs.  Of course we had hopes that it would last longer than a few months.  Not worth fixing. 

All day when I was not blogging, I pondered what our next step would be.  Remove Laddie from our insurance and give him a 6 month break from driving.  Replace the mini with another sturdy but unexciting used car.  I'd prefer to not live in the same house as a teen driver.  Two accidents in about 6 weeks.  Yikes. Is it OK to turn him into a mooch again?  We are rarely around when he needs to be picked up from sports.  Swim season starts soon and the coach shared with me that they will practice in the mornings before school in addition to after school.  I don't want to haul my ass out of bed when it is still dark out in the cold winter months to cart him around.

So, now I am tired after a full day and I insisted on devoting some time to blogging.  I think part of my problem is deciding what to focus on.  Today had its fill of events.  After dropping Laddie off, I raced home and thought about still trying to squeeze in time to blog before my workout.  I intended to peel potatoes and set them aside for dinner, go to the bank, pick up pictures, throw some winter coats in the wash, and drop off paperwork for Eddie's confirmation.  The blog would wait.  As usual. 

After working out, I drove to the mall where I returned a few things and bought a pair of boots that they were holding for me.  Coach can give them to me for Christmas.  I stopped in at Sears to see if any of their boom boxes were worth purchasing.  I've been looking on line, but I like to see what I'm buying.  Apparently boom boxes are a dinosaur.  No purchase.  Waste of time.  Drove home and voted in the election.   After I ate some lunch, I took a quick nap.  Just in time for the little guys to get off the bus. 

Reggie recently decided that he is entitled to invite a friend over every day of the week.  On a school night?  Not happening.  Crying and screaming ensued.  I've allowed it a few other times this fall when the weather was beautiful, but in general it isn't going to work.  Get over it.  The oven was preheating while I opened a turkey breast.  The horrid smell of rotten eggs permeated the kitchen.  The dates on the package were still good.  I called Costco, and was told to bring the turkey in for a refund.  Awesome.  Now my fridge has a smelly turkey in it until I can find the time to deliver it to them.  Fortunately I had another turkey breast further in the depths of the fridge that hadn't spoiled.  Stuck it in the oven, turned on the previously peeled potatoes, and assisted Curly with her homework. 

Just before dinner was done, I emptied a few shelves in the fridge anticipating my grocery shopping load later in the evening.  I ordered Reggie to Windex the shelves.  After assisting him with the extra gross, gummy parts, I started to load everything back in the fridge.  Started a load of laundry.  I called to the girls to get dressed for Irish dancing.  Instructed Curly to load their water bottles.  At this point, Mini begged me to let her use a water bottle that she had fallen in love with at the store recently. I announced my intention to take back the water bottle.  Tears.  Drama (from a no drama daughter).  I reminded her that I lost a car this morning, so bully about the water bottle.  Really. 

The idea was to get an early start to dancing and stop at the seamstress who is making a jacket for Mini's dress.  Rotten turkey delayed dinner.  My exhausting attempts of ridding the kitchen of the awful rotten turkey smell further slowed me down.  Mashed the potatoes, called kids for dinner.  Leaned over the counter and inhaled my dinner.  Rushed the kids thru their dinner and called over my shoulder to get in the car as I raced upstairs to the dungeon.  Eddie and Laddie live in a dungeon.  There are no other words, well - there are, but trying to be upbeat.  Eddie had strict instruction to clean up his room or forfeit his attendance at basketball practice that evening.  Shock.  The room began to take shape to look like a room again, but not quite complete.  The underwear drawer, unable to close, because the stacks of plaid boxers jammed in at all angles interfered.  I tossed the drawer unearthing a remote control to a plane he no longer owns, a set of headphones (odd because I just bought him new headphones after he lost his school-use pair.  This was a totally different set.  Curious), and several cookie and food wrappers.  Insane.  I took a photo with my phone and called to him that I would text his father and I would keep him posted on whether or not basketball was in the cards for him. 

As I bolted for the door, I noticed a pile of fridge food abandoned on the kitchen floor next to the fridge.  The nearest body - Reggie, 'Load that stuff back in the fridge,' I barked.  Backing down the driveway a few seconds later, the door to the house flew open.  Reggie beckoning me back inside.  So close to escaping.  "No."  I continued down the driveway.  Eddie will be no help because of his room.  I jumped out thinking this better be good.  He had dropped a huge tub of yogurt (not a cup - a tub) when he was trying to load it in the fridge.  Yogurt coated the slats at the bottom of the fridge.  It dripped inside the fridge door and spilled out on to the floor from the container that was wedged under the fridge door.  I cleaned up what I could.  He followed my demonstration, and agreed to do the rest.  Back to the car running on the driveway.  At a light I texted the seamstress and told her we would stop after practice, not before as originally planned.

I called Coach and asked his business manager to relay the filthy room situation to Coach.  Friendly messenger that she is, she called back to say that Coach thought that I could just drive him late when his room was clean.  I know Eddie often thinks of himself as an only child, but Coach now too?  Business manager friend confided that she clued him into the fact that I was not home.  Thanks.  She'd be great to have around the house to explain other schedule confusion areas to him on my behalf.  Ultimately Coach agreed to support me if I chose for Eddie to miss practice.  (Or he felt Eddie could walk, again slight difficulty with that - practice was moved to a further location because of the election - not that the original place would have been close enough to walk to in pitch blackness anyway.  Great input though).

I wondered if Tetonka ever made it home.  He stayed after school to cheer for the boys' basketball team that he didn't make in their first home game.  School is only 3 blocks away, but it was dark.  I didn't calculate the time right.  Should he have been home before I left?  I texted his friend's mom whose son was at the game.  They live down the street, so I asked her to drive him home after the game if she saw him standing around. 

The phone rang.  It was Laddie, "Yeah, can you come pick me up?"  It was hard not to laugh.  Did the boy who recently smashed up his car think that I was willing to go back to chauffeuring him around.  "Ask a buddy to drive you, I'm miles from home at Irish dancing."  Dropped girls off at dancing. 

I called my folks.  "Any interest in running over to my house to check Eddie's room and help me determine if he can attend his basketball practice?"  While they weren't terribly hip on the idea, away they went.  I got a text from Tetonka's friend's mom.  She didn't notice my ride home request text till she was home.  Should she go back and look for him.  Before I could call home to find out if he was home, friend's mom called me.  She had called my house and he had made it home.  Awesome.  I explained a bit about my day:  a totaled car, rotten turkey, play date insistent 8 year old, spilled yogurt, messy room, and missed seamstress appointment.  I pulled into the grocery store after we said good bye, and realized that I still had Gumby and Pokey stuffed awkwardly into the trunk of the red mini van that I was driving.  Would be tough to fit the groceries in. 

Stopped at the seamstress, chatted with the girls, and called home to make sure Tetonka and Reggie were practicing their tin whistle.  They hadn't.  I told them I'd be home in 10.  Get practice done, and Reggie get bathed.  Tucked in Reggie once home, and washed Curly in the tub.  Tucked Curly in, and realized that her retainer is broken in her mouth.  She cried when I discovered her secret.  She was hoping to avoid having it repaired out of fear of pain.  Gathered up outfits for the next day.  Forced Tetonka to go to bed way earlier than he would prefer.  Asked Laddie to clean up the yogurt more thoroughly.  Carried in the groceries.  Unloaded groceries.  Opened the vegetable drawer and stumbled upon the most God awful smell ever.  I couldn't believe it.  We were probably better off eating apples that had rolled around the grocery store floor unwashed than eating anything from this drawer no matter how well scrubbed it was.  Gross.  I removed the drawer, filled it with soapy water in the sink, and squirted the exposed bottom of the fridge that had a matching coagulated puddle of something I could not identify.  Once both drawer and fridge were clean, I loaded the dishwasher.  I turned Reggie's cup upside down.  Milk spilled over the side of the dishwasher door.  All over the floor - splash!  That's when I said my newly created word, 'Perfucked.'  I wanted to say the real word but Laddie was watching the Bulls play in the next room.  I started off with perfect, and midway decided the hell with it.  I proceeded to wash the kitchen floor surrounding the dishwasher. 

Tomorrow should prove interesting too.  Coach and I have been invited to meet with Eddie's teachers before school at 8am.  When I texted Coach about the meeting, he texted back that he would like to know what the was meeting about.  I responded with: "Well, I don't think they are offering him a special award."  Perfucked.

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