Guess Who’s Going Commando Tomorrow?

Some mornings just go completely awry. THIS was one of those mornings. I wake up with Ava in bed with me, breathing loudly because she has a cold. She crawled in somewhere in the 3am hour and proceeded to kick me and breathe through a stuffy nose the rest of the night. THEN? She also hogged my pillow so now I have a stiff neck. I love her but I love sleep.

So anyway…I get up this morning. I’m cruising right along. I have this great schedule/routine and I realize I’m like 15 minutes ahead! Shut up! This is going to be awesome. I’m going to get out of the door on time. Ahead of schedule maybe. I’m already thinking of how I’m going to spend my extra 15 minutes. I go to get Ava up…she’s not happy. At all. Very, very cranky. I take her in the living room and she wants to watch Team Umizoomi Legend of the Blue Mermaid. Awesome. I’ve got this. Except that when I go to the DVR screen it has been deleted. Why has it been deleted????? Because. Because my husband (who I love alot) is neurotic about the DVR being over 20% full because ya know…what if we have to tape a 24 hour movie or something, right? We need the space for nothing, clearly. Ugggghhhh! She’s crying.

So I talk her into watching Wow Wow Wubzy on the VideoOnDemand. Sweet. Let’s get this show rolling. Except that Time Warner hates me and it won’t work in the living room. So I try her room. It is “Unable to retrieve listings” there too. So then my room and BAM! It’s working. Sweet! So then it’s breakfast time. She wants cereal. Except that I don’t want her to have a bowl of cereal and milk in my bed. Meltdown #2 ensues. I’m now 20 minutes behind schedule. Shit. While I’m making her breakfast I call Mike to tell him I’m hiding the remotes from him so he can’t delete anything anymore.

So I decide while she’s eating I’ll throw all my stuff in my gym bag…I have to swim tonight for that triathlon I signed up for. I find my bathing suit lying on the floor. Ummmm….it was hanging on the door last night, along with my swim cap. I look everywhere and can’t find my swim cap. I call Mike to yell  ask him where he put it. His response, “Why would I know where YOUR swim cap is?”**** Nevermind that the bathing suit and the swim cap were together…hanging on the door. He closed the door to the bedroom last night, moving my swim cap and my bathing suit. But no, he doesn’t know where my swim cap is. Haha. At this point, it’s straight comedy.

This is my life and I love my life…even with all the frustrations that come along with it. But, tonight? Tonight after he’s asleep, I’m hiding all his socks and underwear and when he asks me where they are tomorrow, “Why would I know where YOUR socks and underwear are?” Point made?

****This is so similar to that time I couldn’t find my car keys and called him at work to which he said, “Why would I know where YOUR car keys are?” And then…an hour later…he calls….they were IN HIS POCKET!!!!!

The Expected Meltdown

I have been a bitch the past two weeks. There’s no way to sugar coat that. My fuse has been short and my temper easily flared. I have not been easy to deal with. I know this. I have been dealing with so much. Anyone who has bought a house can understand the amount of work that goes into getting this transaction to the end stages. My day consists of reading emails, printing attachments, signing attachments, scanning, emailing back. Then there’s the whole setting up utilities, carpet install appointments, mold remediation estimates. Meeting people, talking to people, fighting with people. I feel like Gumby right now. I’m pulled in a million different directions all day. I’m an excellent multi-tasker but this takes multi-tasking to a whole new level.

I work a full-time job, have a 3 1/2 yo at home who never stops talking and a husband who calls me a lot. So this buying a house business has just tipped my balancing act right over. I had a meltdown of epic proportions this morning. I’m stressed. I am. Did I mention Mike is out-of-town for work and we are closing on our house this week? Oh dear God. So I’m a single parent right now. My emotions are frayed and my brain hurts.

SOOOOOOO….this morning. I actually get Ava and I out the door on time. That should have been my first clue that the morning was going to unravel. We are leaving for Napa on Friday morning and I decide that since I have a few minutes, I’ll clean all the boxes out of my trunk to make room for luggage. It’s not 7:20 am so I’m still doing okay on time. I get in the car, Mike calls…I answer. I’m still happy. Then I turn the car on and a light comes on. It’s a triangle with an exclamation point in the middle. WTF is this??? It can’t be good. I open the owner’s manual for the car and learn that it’s a tire pressure warning light. What???? My car has that???? So cool! Wait…shit…that means something is wrong with my tires.

So I get out of the car. Mike is still on the phone. And sure enough my front tire is low on air. Argghhhh! Here is what happens next:

Mike: Just go to the gas station and put some air in it.

Janice: How much air do I put in it?

Mike: It should say on the tire.

Janice: I can’t find it. (Frustration now mounting)

Mike: Just take my truck.

Janice: But what about my tire! What if when I get home tonight it’s flat!!!! Is the car seat in your truck? I’ll just go put air in my tire. I’m gonna be late for work now.

Mike: Just take my truck. What if you take your car to work and it goes flat in the parking garage.

Janice: I really can’t handle anymore. I’m so stressed out.

Mike: I don’t know what you want me to do.

Janice: I want you to be here. I’m handling all this by myself and it sucks.

There were some more words exchanged…it ended with us both being pissed off and saying “I’ll talk to you later.” Then the tears came. Big, fat, I can’t handle all of this I want my mommy tears! And I couldn’t stop them. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t stop crying. And I was crying for no big reason, just a bunch of little ones. I was crying because I’m now late for work. Once I get to work I have to tell my boss that I know I showed up late, and I know I’m leaving early but now I also need a 1/2 hour to run to the bank and wire money so that I can close escrow on a house. And I hate that.

I think at some point I looked towards the heavens and said, “Really? A flat tire? Today? Not cool, God, not cool.” Mike called back and said he just felt bad. And I did too…he’s been awesome through all of my moodiness and short temperament. He said it best when I said, “I’m a guy and guys want to fix things. His “fix” was for me to take his truck since he couldn’t be here to change my tire. And it makes sense…guys are like that. They don’t understand emotional, crying women sometimes. They just want to stop the tears and most of the time, there’s not a whole lot that can be done to stop them…sometimes the tears just need to fall out. Damn woman hormones.

What was the last thing you cried about?

My Hair is Not Straight

Last night I get Ava out of the bathtub and she wants me to blowdry her hair. Now I should mention that yesterday morning, I was blowdrying my hair and the power on my blowdryer sounded like it was going to die. Now I should also mention that I don’t have the best luck with blowdryers. There was the time that one caught on fire while I was blowdrying my hair…that was fun. Then there was the time I used a hotel blowdryer and it ate my hair…I’m not joking. I had to call my dad from the next room to get my hair out.

So I go to blowdry Ava’s hair and the stupid blowdryer won’t work. She starts crying. Mike’s on the phone and I’m like, “Babe, the stupid blowdryer isn’t working can you fix it?” He’s all, “Did you push the reset button? The red one?” I’m not a moron…of course I tried that. I have this cordkeeper blowdryer where you push a button and it sucks the cord up through the base. So I’ve done that…pulled it back out…nothings working. So he comes in, plugs it in and pulls the cord out only a little and it works. I’m like, “Are you SURE it works because if it doesn’t I need to go get a new blowdryer. Right. Now.” And he’s like, “Yep…I’m sure.” And I’m like, “Because if it doesn’t work tomorrow I’m going to be pissed. You’re sure it works.” He’s all, “Yeah…it works babe.”

Not wanting to tempt fate, I decide to leave it plugged in, untouched until this morning. I get out of the shower and go to use the blowdryer and it doesn’t work. IT DOESN’T WORK!!!!!! At this point I start freaking out. Most people wouldn’t freak out but I have a short haircut and was not blessed with straight hair. Some people might say, “Well then, just let it be curly for a day.” Those people have obviously not seen my hair when it air dries. It’s not good curly or wavy. It’s got parts that are stick straight and parts that are wavy and parts that flip up. It’s not pretty people. It just isn’t.

So here I am freaking out. I call Mike and of course at this point it’s his fault that my blowdryer is broken. I should have just gone out and bought one last night. He told me it was fixed so it’s totally his fault. So I call him and he asks me, “Did you press the red button?” Now I feel like I’m on that season of Lost where Desmond just has to keep pushing the button or something terrible is going to happen. OF COURSE I PUSHED THE RED BUTTON!!!! So I tell him that it kind of works if I don’t take the cord out but that it’s making a funny sound. He’s all, “Well, just try to use it that way.” Hmmm…let’s think about this for a moment. I have an electrical appliance that’s clearly having electrical issues and his advice is to give a go????

So I pull out my flat iron and decide to try to dry my hair this way. I’m frantic at this point. I’m running late…I have no idea how long it’s going to take to flatiron my hair dry and I’m a little terrified that all my flatiron is going to do is fry my hair. It worked…my hair looks like absolute crap today but at least it’s not curly…it just looks like crap.

Then Ava decides she has to dress herself this morning. She’s okay at this…slow…but okay. Her guidance to dressing herself is that the tags go in the back. Well, don’t you know the outfit I picked out today was one of those tagless shirts. So she’s all, “I can’t find the tag! The tag goes in the back. I can’t find the tag!!!” I yell from the other room, “Look for the writing. The writing goes in the back.” Her response, “Mom, what’s writing?” So I go in to help her…bad move on my part. She’s in total independent mode and doesn’t want my help. So now I’m trying to help her without her knowing I’m helping her. All the while, my patience is wearing really thin and the minutes are ticking away on the clock.

She’s finally dressed and I can’t find her Vans. Yes…the new Vans that she adores. So I’m like screw it, she can just wear these other shoes. Again…bad mommy. She starts having a meltdown about how she doesn’t want to wear those shoes…she wants to wear her Vans. So I run upstairs for like the 15th time this morning and can’t find them. I call Mike and he tells me they are on top of the entertainment center. Weird place for shoes but that’s where they were.

I’m finally going to get out the door. I’ve got her lunchpail, my purse, keys…and I’m ready to go. Then she wants me to carry her to the car. If you know my child, she’s an oversized 3 1/2 year old. She’s not fat…not by any means but my husband’s mission of breeding the shortness out of The Busbea’s went well and she’s over half the size of me and I’m carrying a bunch of crap. I may have snapped at this point. I may have said, “For the love of God Ava!!!!!!!!!!” This led to more crying. So I put all the stuff in the car, go back and carry her to the car and we’re on our way.

I call my friend Heather to complain about what a crappy morning I’m having and I think I said something like, “I just get so pissed when my mornings start this way.” Ava yells from the backseat, “MOM, WE DON’T SAY THAT WORD!” And all I could think was, “Who taught her that “pissed” is a bad word?” I’m quickly running out of words to say so I’ve stopped telling her which ones are bad so I don’t get reprimanded.

This has got to be my longest post yet but seriously…for all you people out there without kids, this is why parents are often late. Because some things are out of our control. It takes twice as long to do pretty much anything when you’ve got a little one in tow. And I’ve had people say, “Well, just make them.” All the parents out there are chuckling at that I’m sure. So my response is, “Let me know how that works out for you when your time comes.”

I LOVE Urgent Care

Is anyone else saying, huh? Who the hell loves urgent care? NOT.ME. I leave work early on Monday to get in before the mad rush that occurs after the doctor’s offices close. I walk in and it looks pretty slow. I’m thinking, “Awesome, I’ll be in and out quickly.” Okay…seriously…I’ll wait while you all finish laughing.

So 2 hours later I’m ready to lay down on the floor and die and they finally call my name. They take me to this room that has an examining table with a pillow. I promptly lay down and the nurse comes in a few minutes later and takes my blood pressure. I’m so sick…literally I’m trying to remember the sequence of events but I felt so bad I think my brain was on a vacation or something. My brain was like “Screw this…you’re so sick even I’m checking out.” So I manage to sit up long enough for them to take my blood pressure and temperature. The nurse says the doctor will be with me shortly.

At this point I’m really hoping the doctor just doesn’t show up because I’m laying down and laying down feels really awesome. Just leave me here…I’ll check myself out when I feel better. The doctor shows up and I don’t even have the energy to sit up. She asks me what’s going on. I tell her, “I’ve been so sick. I couldn’t even get out of bed for two days. I’m pretty sure it’s the flu or something. I can’t breathe…I’m dizzy. Basically I’m sure I’m dying.”

She looks in my ears, looks up my nose, looks at my throat and says, “Well, you’re getting better.” How can she say that? She didn’t see me when I wasn’t sick, so how in the hell can she have a reference point of what better is? Right???? Her basis is that I said when I first got sick I couldn’t get out of bed and now I’m out of bed, so that means I’m improving. At this point, I’m really ready to thump her in the forehead and I’m a pretty docile creature. If I felt like I was getting better, I wouldn’t have waited two hours to be seen!!! I know what better feels like…I DON’T FEEL BETTER!!!!!!

Anyway, my aftercare instructions…ha…aftercare…ha…were to take benedryl and if I still felt sick after 10 days to come back and she would prescribe me some antibiotics. I have four more days to go before I make it to 10 days at which point I’m going back in there and coughing on her. I hope someone holds out on her antibiotics for 10 days!