Lately I've been feeling hard pressed for ideas of things to write about. I wonder if I compose yet another post of me whining, complaining or sobbing about my kids might start to turn people away. Also, honestly, even I get tired of the same old "my kids are loony" missives. The past few days had me determined to write about something happy and positive.
You can see by the dozens of postings I've logged the past tew days how well THAT worked.
Alright, Plan B. I'll write about some Aussie-isms. I worked on that through the weekend and came up with about 3 paragraphs. So much for that idea. I spent Sunday evening wondering what I could write about. I needed something entertaining yet honest.
Ask and ye shall receive. I asked for something to write about and I was given...Monday.
My day starts early on Mondays now. Connor is starting training band and she now has practice Monday mornings at 7:25am. That means we have to be wheels up by 7am. That's a bit of a conundrum for me as I don't have enough time to return home and then turn around and take Tessi back to school. I could put her in the before school care program but I really am trying to save money so I discount that. I come up with the brilliant plan to drive Teddy to school after dropping Connor off, then drive back and drop Tessi off at school. Traffic is horrible that time of day headed towards Turramurra so we we will be stuck in traffic and that will eat up time before I can drop Tessi off after 8:30. We have iPads, Touches, silly things called books....loads of entertainment. Lovely. This will work.
Of course I didn't count on Teddy not wanting a ride. How could I could know that he would prefer an hour and 15 minute, 2 bus and train commute over a 40 minute ride in a car? No, no, don't give me that look. He sits in the front seat and has his iPhone; he doesn't even know his sisters are in the car. However this morning he informs the that wants the bus. Okay...that does not work with my plans. At all.
So I had to tell him that I was taking him to school and that was it. Yes, that did wonders for his mood and personality at 6:30 in the morning. I've been awake only 15 minutes and have already had one fight. Not a record or anything, but impressive nonetheless.
By 7 am we are out the door and we get to school by 7:15. Ten minutes early means we are waiting outside the hall being served up as breakfast to the mozzies. Also known as mosquitos. Everyone is in a smashing mood. Literally. I separate 3 fights and stop a flute from being turned into a weapon. At 7:20 I give up, leave Connor with a fellow waiting mom and head off to fight traffic to Turramurra.
Only there isn't any traffic. We sail down there and make it there by 7:50. A full 40 minutes before he usually gets there. I ask him how early can I leave him there and Teddy snarls at me,"Not too early, I don't want to look like one of those loser early people."
Riiiiiight. 'Cause avoiding loser early status is high on my list of priorities.
We compromise and agree to wait a few minutes until several of the buses have come and gone. Being the good responsible mother I am, we kill time by looking up funny videos on YouTube. I highly recommend "Cats can be Jerks" A moving retrospective film about the angst that dogs and humans feel when subjected to random feline mood swings. It's also pretty damn funny.
At 8:05 I give up and tell him to face his fears and imbrace dorkhood. A glare and I honestly think a hiss..but it could be that cat video, is my good bye from Himself and off we go. Traffic will really be a nightmare now so we won't be too early to drop Tessi off.
Once again, traffic is clear. What the Hell? I have spent HOURS of my life trapped on this road in the past. It is a God-awful nightmare. Rush hour time takes years off of your life. Except today. I find myself cruising back into Normanhurst at 8:20...a full ten minutes before I'm allowed to drop off a now very bored and put out Tessi.
Okay. I drive long laps around the town and time it to 8:29 and come screaming up to school and boot her out. I've done it. My first Monday band practice.
I illegally call from my mobile while driving and book Tessi into NOOSH, the before and after school care program, from now on. I'll sell blood or drugs if I have to in order to pay for it. I don't care.
The rest of the day goes like my normal Monday. Nothing tragic or entertaining. That evening at 5:15 we head out to go to Tessi's basketball game. We stop by one of her friends house to give her a ride and that's when I discover one of my tires is going flat. My friend is the one who pointed it out to me, as I was totally oblivious. I decide that it's not TOO flat and take the girls onto basketball. When I park at the complex that's when I see the tire and the lovely little tiny stinking nail sticking in it.
Yep, it's flat, I have to change it. Marvy.
It's a good situation though. I can send the girls inside and go to Tessi's game. Connor is old enough to walk them in and as long as there is no spider or anything between them and the door they will get in. This way I can change the tire I peace and not have to entertain the girls. Of course the other reason is that this way I can swear in peace too.
I find that even the best tire changing scenario is still a pretty crappy one. 30 minutes of trying to figure it how to lower the spare tire from under the carriage of the car, cranking the jack to lift the car, jumping down on the wrench that is turning the lug nuts, dragging the new tire over and trying to lift it onto the wheel and I'm telling you, even Mother Theresa would swear like a sailor on leave.
To the mothers escorting their precious cherubs into the Brickpit Centre....I apologize for forcing you to shield their ears from my announcements that the parents of the lug nuts were never married. That they in fact, resembled some kind canine excrement and my offerings of more than gentle suggestions that Toyata procures the services of the worlds oldest profession. Also my implication that the car jack had a massive Oedepal complex and would serve the world better by rotating on an oscillating wand was perhaps a bit extreme. I now regret inviting the lug nuts to embrace themselves aggressively and in a indecent suggestive manner and conceed that it most likely was not the best use of my degree in Communications.
Yes, I imagine it is unusual to find that kind of bawdy language outside our local King's Cross or any world renown red light district. Give me some credit though. All my usage and syntax was correct. I swore using both British and American curses interchangeably and I never repeated myself. Sure my mom is spinning in her grave but I bet my dad would be impressed with me. Not that I'm telling him what I said of course. I'm crazy, not stupid.
Packing everything up and covered in sweat; I head into the center to find Tessi's game. Takes me a minute but I locate the group and set my stuff down on the bleachers. Of course I am covered in grease, dirt and sweat so I ask a friend to watch my stuff so I can go clean up. I return dripping wet because of course with my luck, there are no paper towels. I don't care...the grease is gone and I sit down to watch some 7 year old basketball and rest my back which is killing me.
About 23 seconds later Tessi has a colossal fall and begins wailing that she is dying. Her bench is on the other side of the court from me so her coach helps her walk off. Now I know that Tessi will cry about being hit by an air molecule so I shout, "You're fine Tessi!!" and give her the thumbs up gesture. She flings herself into the chair sobbing and keening that life is over. Her coach and friends huddle around her. I think someone starts a prayer vigil.
Here I am, the evil troll mom, waiting on the other side of the court watching my poor sweet, delicate, angel-faced babe sobbing as her knee is obviously shattered.
Swearing under my breath I get up and walk around the court, inching my way up to her and wait for the moment when she has to take a breath in between the sobbing and moaning so I can talk to her. I dont want to disturb her fine performance. Academy award winning, this is. So pitiful, sitting in the chair holding her leg straight out, begging for help. I catch her just after she cries that she isn't sure she's gonna make it. Looking at her, I ask her to move her knee and the wailing escalates. I touch the knee and she surely was dying.
Look, my back hurts and I just want to sit down.
Sighing, I handled the problem the only way I knew I could. I waited for another break in the sobbing and quickly piped up, "Is that a $2 coin under your seat?" She quickly threw the leg down, stood on it and ducked under the chair to find it. "Where, Where!?"
I hand her the water bottle and turned to walk back to my seat, calling out,"You're fine Hon, go back in the game." Her bestie still clinging to her tearfully asked, " Are you sure it's not broken?" with Tessi scrambled up to get back on her seat.
Yea....pretty sure.
As I walk back to the bleachers I start plotting how I'm going to write about the day's events. It's not lost on me that I have asked for this. I can't go as far as to thank the powers that be for this display but I can't be that annoyed. I did ask for something to write about.
Christ almighty...did I get it.
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