Have a good trip…see you next Fall!

This past week was a week for the history books.  Well, my history book, anyway.  I am going to rank this one right up there with the week of Maddie’s fall, the weeks following the birth of Jack (WORST NEWBORN EVER), and the week my future husband dumped me to pursue other interests.  Have I mentioned it was over the phone?

Anyway.

I won't bore you with the details, just know that it was a long and stressful week, many things went wrong, many things were forgotten, I endured a small personal crisis, and Dave was gone for three days in Pittsburgh, so I had the added task of finding childcare for Jack for three days (then getting him there).  Many, many, many thanks to Julie, Sue, and Carolyn for happily taking Jack into their homes for those days, and greatly easing my stress and guilt levels.  I also had a house to clean/groceries to buy/food to prepare for this fella’s First Holy Communion, (a very bright spot in the week), and on top of it all, I developed a sore throat and what felt like a sinus infection.  So even if my brain wasn’t running constantly all night long, the sore throat and sinus pressure were doing their best to keep me awake. I was exhausted.*

Maddie’s band concert was one of these nights, and my mom forgot she needed to babysit the boys for me.  I scrambled around and figured things out, got us to the middle school, then sank blissfully into a seat.  The next hour and a half were nice.  Stress-free.  Simple.

And then it was all over and Maddie and I left  the building and headed for the parking lot. 

Now if you know me, then you know that I LOVE it when people fall.  I don’t want them to get hurt, but as soon as I ascertain their well-being, I get a big kick out of it.  I laugh on the inside like crazy!  My gosh, the way their arms flail out, the way they hit the pavement and look around sheepishly, hoping no one saw…dear Lord, it is truly a favorite of mine.

I’m sorry.  Otherwise, I’m really quite nice.  Really.

So.  As Maddie and I head for the parking lot, my ankle twists in a hole in the lawn, I shoot forward, my arms flailing so much that I throw my purse about 10 feet away from me where it lands in the line of traffic and almost gets run over.  A very embarrassed Maddie says, “Moooom!”  I get sheepishly up off the ground, glance around to see if the 500 other parents and children filing out of the auditorium noticed (uh, yeah, they did), collected my purse, and headed for the car as gracefully as I could. 

I had a good cry once I got the children into bed.

But now it’s the end of the week, a week I never want to see or think about again, and I just got out of the tub, clutching my glass of First Communion wine (left over from the party, not actual First Communion wine), and I feel better.

And oh, am I going to sleep tonight.


*By the way, I'm well aware of all the other people in the world with real problems:  people undergoing cancer treatment; those dealing with the death of a child; single mothers working full-time, taking classes, yet giving their kids a loving, patient home life; battered women shielding their children from an angry dad...mine are pretty small potatoes, that's for sure.