As southern mamas like to say,”HUSH or I will give you something to cry about!” Mother Nature/the universe/karma/fate…whatever it is has some southern woman in her that’s for sure.
The day after I write Both are True about how sometimes getting out of bed is all I can manage the world, in its infinite wacked sense of humor, gives me the ole one-two and knocks me on my ample backside.
Shingles hit-AGAIN. It’s a busy, short staffed week and all hands needed to be on deck. As a leader I needed to be busy, helping and getting stuff done. Instead I am sent home armed with meds and feeling like I’d been hit by a Mack truck. And than the truck backed over me…and then ran over me again. If you’ve had shingles you will get it.
…and its family night at the bugs school…she’s been looking forward to it all week. I can’t go. Her brother is working so he can’t take her. I put out a plea for help (which I hate to do) to her dad. Let’s just skip to the end and tell you she doesn’t get to go to family night. Tears ensue. Lots of tears. And I felt horrible.
Boy came home from work in tears. He’d gotten some harsh criticism at work that broke his heart. I couldn’t fix it for him. He’s sad…I am sad.
Friday I try to get up to go to work. Meds and pain have other ideas. Alrighty then. I’ll go to plan b…Work laptop frozen and can’t be unlocked remotely. I have no plan c. I can’t even work if my brain would let me. I go back to sleep and sleep the entire day.
Friday afternoon-Man-child strikes off to a swim meet in another state solo. First swim meet I’ve ever missed. He’s staying at his grandparents house alone as they are at the beach. He was excited thinking his cousin would hang out with him. To my dismay his cousin blew him off to go to a party and he’s been alone all day. He swam with no one watching and he’s been alone in a big, empty house. Middle girl loses both her middle-school tournament games and BAM! her season is over. She’s distraught and crying. One child is making his first long drive. Baby girl is sad because she was the only one to miss family night. I feel like hammered hell and want to cry. We are a hot mess.
Friday night/Saturday morning. A 3:30 a sudden flash woke me up from a dead, medicated sleep. My bedroom sits on a covered deck this connects my garage to my house. There is a gate so you can enter from the swatch of yard and a door that leads to the garage. My double wonder sits a few inches off the deck itself.
Needless to say seeing a flashlight on my deck sent waves of panic through me. Especially with my little bug tucked right in my bed with me.
I didn’t have time to panic before 2 things happens simultaneously happened: the dog (also in my bed) went beserk and someone began beating on my door. Loudly and insistently.
I donned my threadbare, orange chenille robe, grabbed the dog my its collar and fled the room before the bug woke up and added to the chaos.
I peaked out the curtain and the dog became Cujo in my arms and the pounding changed over to the doorbell being pressed again and again and again. Holy hell.
From my bent posture from trying to maintain the wild dog and from trying to be discreet and only peer from the bottom of the curtain…oh lord…all I saw was a gun and a zillion watt flashlight aimed at my eyes.
“Ma’am I need you to step outside,” a voice called out. The flashlight moved a bit and I saw a badge. The dog was ripping my arm off on her haste to her to the voice. “Can I put my dog up first?” He answered affirmatively so I hauled 45 pounds of pure muscle in the direction opposite of the direction she wanted to go.
I crate her, adjusted my glasses, tightened my robe and checked on the bug who was, miraculously snoring. Then I went back to the door. I peeked again. I was medicated after all. Sure enough-there stood a policemen and a zillion power flashlight. I timidly opened the door.
“Ma’am..your neighbor interrupted a perpatrator in your garage. I need you to tell me of anything is missing,” he held the flashlight away from my face and motioned for me to go ahead of him.
My worst nightmare. Not being robbed…I didn’t even imagine that happening…this was worse…having people in my garage! “Uh…how will I know?” I asked feebly.
The officer laughed,”it took me a time or two to get to the right path to find the door,” forget the threadbare orange robe, forget the coke bottle glasses or the morning breath…that was humiliating. Having an officer of the law trying to navigate the messiness of my garage. He must have sensed my mortification because he said,”I have lots of stuff in mine too. At least yours is organized,” nice try dude. Pushing everything to one wall so you can make room for a couch, a chair and 2 cars does not organization make.
The offer used his light to highlight all the ummm….organized parts of my garage. The bikes were there. The cars were there. Beyond that I didn’t know what should/shouldn’t be there. The neighbor who had saved the day was showing me exactly where the white van was backed up to my garage and exactly where he saw the man. “There was something not right. That dude was creepy!” He proclaimed. Right where he was illustrating the would be rubber had stood was my 1964 1/2 mustang. “Could he have been after this?” I asked. They didn’t know.
To add insult to injury after the policeman left I realized I have locked myself out of my house. At 4a I am standing on a dark deck on a tiredass robe with my glasses on while my little one snores the night away. Good times.
I took the hero a pie to thank him today. While waiting on him to answer the door his townhouse neighbor who is a few sandwiches shy of a picnic let her dog ‘parky out and he attacked me little bug. Scared her and me and managed to nip her little hand. After that drama subsided I found out they caught the man. He had several purses from the neighborhood as well as a motorcycle and a go cart. Was my car on his list?
So…to sum up…I’ve been knocked down my a nasty little condition, failed as an employee, disappointed my babies my failing as a mom, avoided a theft but am now scared $&@less, told off my nephew who hurt my sons feelings (again) and didn’t kill a neighbor who let her dog scare my girl to pieces. And I did it all without getting any help even when I humbled myself to ask for it. That’s what I get for whining about being sad, huh.
Looks like the universe gave me something to cry about.