The cure is my husband being sent out of the country. At first glance I understand that my husbands travel plans do not seem like an obvious cure to my woes. This is one of those moments where you have to piece together the events and the obvious solution will present itself. Follow alone with the timeline.
Just a few days ago the girls and I drove Ted to the airport for a trip to Texas for business. He stepped out of the car when Tessi started coughing. An hour later as we were pulling into the shops she was barking louder than Iditarod contestants.
The shops you say? Why on earth would I have a sick child at the shops? No good mother would do that!
True, good mothers would not.. However I had no choice as Connor had broken her glasses and we needed them repaired before school the next day.
Do you know what it's like living with sensory-challenged child who is bothered by change and her glasses are broken? Well, it's bad enough that after two hours in the car on an airport run you'll drag a coughing and feverish kid to the shops and wait thirty minutes until the overworked chick behind the counter can take 10 seconds and replace a screw in the glasses. That's how bad it is.
After dragging them both home I checked my calendar for the week and I noticed a large red blurb first thing in the morning. Of course. Monday morning is my turn to be the band parent at early morning training band practice. Remember my turn last time, when I was late and had everyone staring at me? Well, not this time! I was going to be the good mother and get their early! Sure Tessi was sick, but its in a big hall and I'll park her at the other end with a pillow, blankie and my precious iPad. It will be fine. No one will notice. It's a great plan.
More accurately that was a great plan until I actually woke up the next morning. I walked into Connor's room, tripping over the cat and folded clean clothes on the floor. Biting the sides of my mouth so I don't scream I put my hand on her forehead to gently wake her. That's when I noticed the fever. As she awoke she spoke nonsense as the fever was so high she was delusional. No exactly faking that symptom. I didn't need to put a lot thought into determining the validity of that symptom. She really was sick and we were staying home. So no training band.
We spent the day with both girls lying sick in their beds with me trying to do laundry. That's more impressive if you understand that it was pouring rain the entire day and I couldn't hang anything outside. I have a dryer but its Australian so it holds about 6 things and takes an hour to work. I have stuff strewn about the house like a festival of cotton.
That was my day until I decided to be be nice and let the girls out of their rooms to watch TV. My kindness was repaid with four back-to-back episodes of Adventure Time. There are shows that are worse I know. But not too many.
For us though, I felt we were doing alright. Sure, it's not pleasant being stuck home with sick kids but it wasn't too bad. I have the Internet for god's sake. I can tune of my surroundings quite well. What I can't tune out is running out of bread and ice blocks (Popsicles American friends) No, that is not going to work. However, I have a solution. I will wait until Teddy returns from school, entrust him to watch over the girls while I duck out to the grocery store and pick up the essentials. No problem.
No problem unless of course that is the precise moment that my car decides not to work. Dead. It is an ex-vehicle. I had the keys to Ted's crappy train car so I took that. That's fine, except I hate that car. Ted hasn't cleaned it out since...well...ever and I can't plug my iPhone in anywhere. Plus the seat is wonky and it kills my back. Also its a Hyundai and my car pride is wounded for driving it. It's juvenile of me, but there it is. I like my Toyota Kluger.
Driving back from my trip to the store with every other human being on the North Shore, I saw that my neighbor sent me a message saying not to worry, but Sasha had gotten out. She returned her to our yard and shut the gate. Seems the gate had bounced open, giving Miss Thang a long overdue run for freedom.
To cap my evening nicely I spent 10 minutes wrestling the boy, the dog and two blankets. I started off with the boy because he was deliberately teasing his sick sister and churning her into a sobbing frenzy. I took a picture of him on the floor in the blanket being jumped by the dog and threatened to post it to his Instagram account. That's when the dog lost her ever-loving mind and tried to eat the blankets. Ripping the blankets away from both the boy and the dog I ended up jolting Teddy into the air. Sasha took that as a cue to attack and sent Teddy into the cheap seats by slamming her jaw several inches below his stomach. Trust me, the teased sister just got the laugh of her life. When Teddy can breathe again I'll point out how all of this was his fault.
Two sick kids, six loads of laundry and pouring rain outside so I can't hang it up, four episodes of Adventure Time, a dead car - which was caused by Connor leaving her door open for over 24 hours so the battery drained flat, an AWOL dog, fighting kids and a teen emasculated by the dog. All within 32 hours of my husband leaving the country.
Coincidence? I think not.
Coincidence? I think not.
I was hoping it wouldn't come down to this but my husband has left me no choice. After he returns to Australia in a few days I am going to turn him in to the government. I'm to tell them that he is trafficking drugs, laundering McDonald's Monopoly game prize pieces and he's moonlighting as Assanges and Snowden's online poker consultant.
I will tell them anything I can come up in order to get his passport revoked. None of it is true but I no longer care. Every time he leaves the country my little world erupts like Vesuvius. I'm not talking about the normal "I miss my life partner and I hate being without him" and everything falls apart around me. No, I'm talking about actual disasters occurring only when he leaves the same airspace I occupy. It happened when we were back in Texas and he was flying over to Australia. It continues now that he returns to the US without us.
I don't know if he is conscientiously doing something to jack with the universe to make it turn on me or not. At this point it doesn't matter why it happens. All that matters is that I am going to put a stop to it.
I'm not even upset anymore. As I type this dinner is burning on the stove, the second round of Don't touch me! I'm not touching you, I'm looking at you! has started and I am at peace. I've only had one small bottle of hard cider and I have come up with the obvious solution to my problems. It's him or me and I am choosing me.
I feel better for it.
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