Pages

June 12, 2017

thank goodness it was a short week: Friday (the final chapter!)

Friday morning I was caught up on my sleep and ready to put my son's lack of participation in his 8th grade graduation behind me.  It was time to focus on preparing for the graduation party we were hosting for Tank on Sunday.  I was slotted to drive to Milwaukee the next day with the four youngest kids to celebrate my niece's graduation party.  Today had to count.

Although I don't typically babysit on Fridays, I was strapped with two tykes.  I vowed this day would be productive.  Before my late morning workout class, I planned to prep as much food for the party as possible.  I pulled put four 9 x 13 Pyrex pans to get started.  

Eddie, who finished finals on Thursday, was playing in an away basketball tournament with the varsity high school summer league.  Lad needed the shared teenage car.  He was supposed to drive Eddie to the high school at 7:30 am, which is why I dashed out to the car at 7:22 am.  Ed trailed me begging me to help him get to the high school on time, so he wouldn't miss the bus.

I waved the tykes' dad off of the driveway just as he pulled up, so I could back my big 12 seater van out of the garage.  I hollered out the window to drop-off dad that the junior high kids were still inside to supervise and I'd be right back.  Sometimes I look at the folks I sit for and shake my head with envy.  Remember when life revolved around nap times, buying diapers on sale, and getting excited to meet other young parents at the park?  

With my kids off to school and the tiny mouths inhaling their breakfast, I started boiling water for the pasta noodles.  I had been rotating plates of bacon into the microwave at 10 minute intervals all morning.  A pile of crispy bacon began to form on the counter-top.  I chopped onions in my ninja blender thingie and browned them in a frying pan.  I occasionally shuffled the recipe index cards around the crowded counter rereading them to see if it made sense to chop, brown, or cook any additional ingredients in advance.  No time to waste.  

The tykes were playing in the family room.  The noodles were boiling.  A respectable pile of dishes, pots, and utensils had built up in the sink.  I wrestled with them, determined to fit the entire lot in the dishwasher.  Days like these would require a midday dishwasher cycle.  The sooner the better.

The phone rang.  It was Eddie's coach.  When I dropped Eddie off that morning, I called after him.  'Let me know if the coach has decided whether or not I am getting a discount on basketball camps.'

The coach responded to my initial email two weeks ago saying that he would get back to me.  He had to figure out what kind of discount he could give me for enrolling 5 kids in camps.  He wanted Eddie to help him coach.  Having Ed coach would be great, but he'd take a financial hit.  He could typically make more working as a caddy.  The tentative cost of basketball camp for our crew tallied up at $600.  Ouch. 

For a brief moment as I stood in front of multiple pots of boiling mostaccioli noodles, I thought the coach was calling to discuss discounting the camp fees.  'Sorry this isn't great news,' he began.  I heard 'isn't great news' and thought it meant 'no discount.'  It took me a minute to switch gears and process the real message  after his next statement.  'Looks like we have a broken wrist here.'  

Mangled wrist.
A moment later, I gasped for air.  Then I screamed.  Then I uttered a few strings of foul language.  'No!'  I won't bother to type the rest.  Use your imagination.

If you've been following my blog recently, you recognize that it had been a stressful week full of crappy college transcripts, school suspensions, and lack of sleep.  

Laddie woke up with all of the commotion.  I ordered him to stir the ingredients into the noodles that I had just drained.  'Stick all the food in the fridge - use the basement fridge if necessary.  If there are juice boxes in there, take them out to give yourself more space.'  He screamed that I was talking too fast.  I spoke slower:  'STIR IT.  REFRIGERATE IT.'



Doc said after surgery that Eddie had strong bones.
Must've been quite a fall to break like this.  Grrr.
This was the first day of Eddie's summer.  He was playing in the first game of the high school summer league.  There was one minute left in the game.  His opponent pushed as Ed jumped up for a right handed layup.  He landed on his left wrist.  He's a lefty.  

A coach drove him home since I explained my babysitting situation.  They were 40 minutes away.  Ed was a mess.  The pain was intense.  The wait at the doctor's office was insanely long.  I eventually called in reinforcements.  If I had known that we would sit for an hour and a half, I would've driven home and put the boys to bed for a nap.  My mom could've watched them there.  Instead, she met me at the office and I baled with the tykes.  She agreed to wait with Ed.  I felt horrible driving home when he still hadn't seen the doctor.  

It was broken in two places.  He required surgery with pins on Monday.  

Water polo summer league was starting Monday night.  Lad and Tank were registered for the same league. Three brothers, one sport, one car.  Too much to ask for, I suppose.   

Good thing this was a short week.  I can't imagine what else could've unraveled if there had been another day.  Maybe I should start bracing myself for Mini to join a cult after all.

After the week I had with my boys, I have to ask:  who says girls are hard?


  

1 comment:

  1. Good grief!! What a crazy week! I hope his wrist is healing well and that things have calmed down in your house!

    ReplyDelete