I sit in wonder of the last twenty-four hours. My body is tired, my spirit flustered, and I could feel my right eye beginning to twitch. But I know now, that I had had a visitor of some sort. After this day, I feel as if I manage to get this post out, it will only be through working in two minutes intervals.
It began last night. Dinner had been just fine, I actually got compliments. We watched a little TV, then it was time for showers for school the next morning. My normally adoring husband decided he had enough of being patient with the kids lollygagging around, and when I tried to ask him to take it easy, he blew up at me. I was vexed that not only did I have to deal with the kids, but I also had to deal with a cranky husband who needed to go to sleep.
I trudged upstairs with my daughter to help get her ready and shower started. since the head of the shower is a good foot and half above her head, I move the suction cup shower head holder down and make sure the water won’t scald her. When she finally entered the shower and I got a chance to sit down, I should have sensed then that things were about to go weird, or wyrd. I had had an inkling since August that things would start going strange about now, I’m just hoping that things don’t go as today has gone for the whole Fall season. After all, variety is the spice of life.
So my daughter got the idea that taking our puppy into the shower with her was a great idea. While the dog did get clean, he then spent a good hour running around the house being a spaz. Our dog is a chocolate lab, so even though he is a puppy he’s a big dog, and he’s a strong dog.
By the time it was time to read to my daughter for bedtime, I had a pile of things on the bed which I had to retrieve from the wild dog’s little teeth. Everything from shoes, to balls of yarn (for my knitting), books, and hoodies, were confiscated from our overzealous retriever and piled on the bed where he could not reach them.
I pulled out the hairdryer as it was a chilly night, and tried to dry my daughter’s hair as quickly as possible. We were already late for bed, as Emma had not only given the dog a bath and herself a shower but also her Barbie doll. From the noise of the hairdryer, which the dog had not seen yet, Kit Kat went ballistic. In under a minute of blow-drying, the dog had knocked over a cup of coffee which been in the queue for being returned to the kitchen and peed on the floor. This I had to ignore for the time being, my priority was getting Emma to bed. Hair dried, Barbie only partially dry, I popped her into bed with a quick story.
Now to deal with the mess. I had let Kit Kat downstairs before reading to my daughter, so my hubby could watch him while I was reading to Emma. But when I came back downstairs, my husband had gone to bed already and the dog was running wild through the house.
As I was picking up the new collection of chewed upon things, I found the candy bar wrapper from the treat I had given myself that evening. I hadn’t finished the candy bar before, but now it was absolutely gone. After an hour of looking up info about the horrors of dogs eating chocolate, I decided to make the dog throw up.
Another hour later, I actually made myself do it. I got the training pads out, some hydrogen peroxide, and a very small measuring spoon. Goal achieved, the dog threw up, and of course, not on the training pad. Crisis somewhat stable, I took him upstairs and to his cage, so I could attempt to get some rest. I still had to watch the dog for chocolate poisoning symptoms, but I could do so from bed for a few hours before having to be up again.
At this point, I was feeling really rather angry with my husband. Not only had we argued that night, but he poofed off to bed when he felt like it, and could not have waited for me to finished reading to Emma so that he could watch the dog so that maybe the dog wouldn’t have eaten the candy bar he had stolen off the table. And, of course, there were dishes to finished, other animals to feed, and the main floor to scavenge for the day’s garbage and dishes. So I didn’t sleep, really.
At 7:30 AM, I was up again and getting Emma ready for school and taking the dog out for the morning relief and breakfast. Fortunately, we made the bus. Fortunately, the dog seemed alright. Fortunately, dishes were done from the night before. So I made myself some food and coffee, did the cat litter, and went back upstairs to try to maybe take a nap.
Oh wait, that sounded too easy! That’s right, the dog was chasing the cats, and of course, he had diarrhea from the chocolate, which I had to clean up.
Once upstairs, I just couldn’t sleep. I took an hour to massage out some muscle knots, release some tight spots, take some congestion and anti-inflammation meds to ease the cold that just refuses to quit before I was finally able to drift off for a little. My mom woke me up by calling to say she was on her way up. I fell back asleep, actually got to REM sleep before throwing some clothes on and heading downstairs to do the after school thing.
Once downstairs, the kids and their chaotic days filtered in from school and work. Homework and chores regulated, the time passed with the after-school schedule. Shortly after five, my husband chimed in on his way home from work. He was trying to get home to take me and Emma to our custody exchange appointment that evening. But, the GPS told him he would probably be late for being able to take us.
One of the reasons I don’t drive is because of these stressful custody drop-offs, and one of the reasons why my mom comes to visit every other Wednesday. She was able to drive me and Emma into town. As I watched Emma go off with her bio-dad, I felt some of the stress from the last 24 hours begin to peel off. I took a deep breath. I knew I would have to come back out later to pick up Emma, but I felt a sense of relief I hadn’t felt before.
My hubby called to say that everywhere from Harrisburg to Hazelton, was covered in a fog bank. I laughed because, from the window of the car, I could see what he meant. I could not help but think to myself that maybe it was because we were in the eye of the wyrd storm?? But my mind shifted gears, perhaps planes.
Everything that happened, thankfully, had not been serious. Things had been annoying and ill-timed. Somewhere inside, my mind chuckled to itself over the realization that I had been blind to the fact that something, someone seemed like they were trying to trip me up, ruffle my feathers.
As we pulled in back at the house, I centered my being. I pointedly told whoever was visiting and having a little fun at my expense, that they were now done playing. I could just about make out the tittering laugh of someone who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. My mind would not normally go to this side of the irrational for an explanation.
When it seemed that most of the chaos was centered on our house or our immediate family members (the people who live in the house), the question of “Who just did that?” screamed it’s way from the back of my mind, my subconscious, and irrational side. Even when I hear that kind of call to attention, I’m still wary. But the contrived silence answered more than anything else could. Now that might sound like a silly statement to most people. But ever since I was little my mind has been noisy, so when the crickets start chirping in my internal world, I know there is something up.
