Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Let Me Tell You About How I Made Myself Look Like An Idiot Again. Again.



There is an alarm on my phone that goes off to let me know I need to wrap up what I'm doing and within the next ten minutes walk to Nora's bus stop.  I have it set because when Evelyn was a newborn I fell asleep holding her and awoke to my husband calling me frantically, wondering why Nora's preschool was contacting him at work telling him that they had been unable to get a hold of me and no one had picked up our then 4 year old daughter.  Let's just say, I felt some guilt about that and have lived by alarms ever since.

So, the alarm on my phone did not go off last Wednesday when I needed to start wrapping things up to prepare for bus drop off.  I was glad I caught it and headed to Nora's bus stop.  Realizing I got there early I meandered near the lake by her stop.  I was looking for snakes, spiders or anything else I need to know lives there so I can properly obsess over it.  After awhile it occurred to me that I had been outside for quite awhile.

Looking at my phone I tensed up.  Normally Nora would have been dropped off by then.  

I waited 5 more minutes.  No bus and no Nora.

It was now 15 minutes after my 6 year old was usually dropped off and I texted my husband letting him know I was scared.

He agreed that it was odd.

I waited another 5 minutes and then started picturing myself on CNN begging someone to bring my child back.

I texted my husband again and he suggested I call the school.

My heart pounded so loud I heard it in my head while I dialed her school.

The secretary answered and I tried to stay calm, as I screamed in my head, and explained that it was 30 minutes after the time my Nora's bus normally drops her off and I just wondered if they had heard from the bus company about any situations.

Her silence nearly killed me.  I thought, "She knows something!   She can't bear to tell me!".

Indeed she did know something.

She finally spoke and said, "Ma'am....we have not dismissed yet".  

At that moment, all of this came together in my head.  I looked at the clock on my phone and it read 2:57.

Not 3:57.

I was a dumbass.

I would like to say that my immediate reaction was pure relief, but I have to be honest.  My first reaction was:  I never gave them my name!  They don't know who I am!  Thank God!  GET OFF THE PHONE IN CASE THEY TRACE THE CALL!

I would love to give you an explanation for how I came to think it was time to go wait for Nora, but I honestly have none.  But if hard pressed, I'd probably say it has something to do with the fact that since having my children I've lost my mind.

Also, WHY did my husband not catch it either? 

It is times like these that I understand why our 6 year old believes us to be idiots.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

We All Have Our Crosses to Bear, My Husband's is My Lenten Sacrifice.

Well, it's finally happened.

I went to my Google home page, where all my "most visited" websites are stored, and as I went to click on my blog....I saw it.  That bastard Pinterest had taken the place that once sported my blog in all its glory.  My blog is no longer even on the page!  I KNOW!

This is sad to me.  A lot of things can be put off for other things in my life and I would be ok with it.  Housework can fall to the wayside so that I can go out and do something with my kids.  Groceries can not be gotten because I seriously needed to watch the Grammy's on my DVR so that I could properly despise Chris Brown and his pompous face. But, I'll be damned if my blog will fall off the planet just so that I can pin ANOTHER freaking chicken recipe to a nonexistent board.  

So, naturally I took control.  I've given up Facebook for a spell.  I think Lent is a perfect time to do such a thing. Because I know, in between weeping for the pain we all encounter on earth and trying to perform miracles, Jesus totally cares that I gave up Facebook.  And yes, I know this started out with Pinterest, but I'm not giving that up.  Come on people!  My family needs to eat and I think they are enjoying eating less spaghetti and instead seeing all the ways I can use aluminum foil, cupcake liners and crock pots.  Plus, where else can you find ideas as good as this:



Giving up Facebook is a good choice for me.  It's something painful to give up, because it's how I stay connected to all my family and friends that live far.  And it's something familiar that I turn to, which means when I think of logging on I catch myself, refocus and think about Lent.  It also makes me think about people hanging out and having fun without me, and as I'm highly opposed to that happening ever, it's quite unsettling for me.

You know who my giving up Facebook is not a good choice for?  My husband.  

My husband leaves the house at 6am everyday and gets home around 6ish at night.  We then leap into dinner, reading and bedtime stuff with the girls.  He finally sits down around 8pm, at which time he usually looks around the internet on his iPad and I'm on the computer while we watch a show together.  We generally do this until we are both so tired and weak from the day that we are certain it must be midnight, even though it's only 9:20. 

Instead of following that old routine, now that I've given up Facebook, I have focused on ruining his life (can you sense my Lenten spirit?).  

Here's how things went last night:

We flopped onto the couch, exhausted from our children and the world.  He reached for his iPad and I started chatting away.

I talked about our kids, our dog, something funny that happened, that mom that I despise (again, sense my Lenten spirit) and the whole time he's looking at his iPad and responding where he needed to, but I could tell it was not because he wanted to!  Can you imagine?  

So, obviously I said, "I feel like you're not even participating in our conversation!".  He looked befuddled, probably because he didn't realize holding a conversation was going to be our thing at night now, and put his iPad down and we watched a show.  

Tonight, I'm thinking of spending some time focusing on some type of marriage question so we can bond.  Something of the, "Where do you see us in 5 years or can you list the top 10 things you love about me? or WHY have we not bought a pot-bellied pig yet?!" variety. 

I think he's going to love Lent.