Thanking God for a Twit This Morning

I think I'm becoming too frazzled to function.  Ever since children started arriving I've learned to live with a certain amount of chaos and anarchy.  There is no completely peaceful moment in your life once the short people make their appearance.  However, there are limits and you reach a point that you have to stop yourself, slap your self upside the hide and reign it all in.  That moment just hit me.  Like a ton of LEGOS and Littlest Pet Shop in the face.

Saturday morning cricket.  Ahhhhh, 3 hours of watching an activity I can't bring myself to call a sport.  I know there are people booing and hissing at me right now; that's OK.  You people live in your little world of long white pants in the summer, not running when you hit the ball and taking 2 weeks to play a single game. I'm comfortable in my skin of of liking sports where you're expected to hit people.  Since my daughters are doing Little Athletic's on Saturdays as well Ted and I are dividing and conquering.  He takes them to Little A's and I take Teddy to cricket.  Last night I checked the schedule as I knew the game was in Wahroonga, but I didn't know when or which oval in Wahroonga.  There are lots.  Trust me. Cricket is huge in this country

Because Teddy has been playing with the same boys for 4 years and the same parents volunteer to do things every year (GOD BLESS THEM!!) I just did a quick search for the team managers name in Gmail and found the Google Docs link for the schedule.  I scanned down the list for the name Wahroonga, found it and learned it was on Cliff Avenue at 8 am.  Bugger, that's early.  Oh well, such is life.  Suck it up Cupcake.

7:30 am this morning we are off.  I'm deliberately trying to be a little late so I don't get asked to score.  Yes, that's juvenile.  I understand that.  I am ashamed of myself.  I am a bad person.  Mea Culpa.  10 minutes into the ride I ask Teddy if he has his hat.  Now, this is not just to complete the uniform.  He will be out in the open field for over 3 hours and has 1 tiny speck of Melanin in his entire body.  He will fry.  Of course, since Teddy has had his kit bag packed and in the boot (trunk) for days he looks at me dead pan with disgust...then remembers that he doesn't have it.

TWIT!!  Grrrr. Now I have to turn back and we're REALLY going to be late.  Sheesh!  I hand him the phone and have him type out a text to the manager saying that he's forgotten the hat and we'll be late.  A few minutes later we get the response, "No worries!  Game isn't until 9"

What?  9am?  What's he talking about?  I checked the sheet, it said 8.  This doesn't make sense but I do start to curtail my mocking of Teddy about forgetting the hat.

We return home and I run to the computer.  I log in and open my gmail account and search for his name.  That's when I notice that 2 email addresses pop up for him.  I had clicked on the first one.  When I open that Google Document that's when I see my mistake.

This is a schedule from LAST SEASON.  The damn date isn't even right. I just looked for the city name and nothing else.  Biting my tongue I back out and look at the other email address. Yes, there are more emails with schedules and yes, here is one from this season. I scan for Wahroonga AND today's date.  Of course I'm sure you've guessed it.  The game isn't on Cliff Ave, it's on Yanilla Avenue.  On the complete opposite side of Wahroonga.  I would have been an hour early and then had to spend that time driving around trying to find the correct oval.  Since we all know how WONDERFUL Apple Maps is right now I'm sure I would have been directed to Melbourne.

The worst part is that Teddy knows.  He knows we dodged a bullet and the dodge came from him forgetting his hat.  He's walking around preening like he's discovered Unobtainium or something. This boy is his father's son.  He will never forget this and never forget that I was wrong.  There will be no living with him now.  And dammit, he is right.  He did save us.  And now, I have to come up with a new reason to be late so I'm not asked to score.  Too much effort this early in the morning.

Surviving the Gift of Nature

  My children never miss an opportunity to surprise the Hell out of me. A lot of times it's on purpose but sometimes I think its just because they can't imagine that I wouldn't agree that what they were doing was awesome too. Take my youngest Tessi, for example. She constantly shocks me but rarely does she understand why.

It's the first really hot day of the year for us and trudging to school pickup I'm sweltering. I hate the heat. Always have, always will. The bell rings and I start eyeballing the swarm to pick out my minions so we can head back to the a/c in the car. Teddy rolls up, having lost his wallet with his train pass, so he's forced to endure a tortuously uncool ride home. Poor kid, I bleed for him. I spot Connor taking her sweet time and meandering. She can make a 20 second walk take 3 minutes. Then Miss Tessi arrives with a huge sweet smile. Stupid me starts to think the smile is for me but I come to my senses when I notice she's carrying a small plastic container with grass in it.

I am suddenly ice cold. "What's that Tess?" I ask with rising bile in my throat. Miss Thing's smile grows. "It's Ben's pet! It's a BABY and he wants me to watch it until Friday for him." I lean over and it's a damn snail. Doing the math quickly I realize we're supposed to keep this damn creature for 3 nights.  Oh Hell no.   Everyone who has ever spent 5 minutes with me knows that I don't like creatures from the great outdoors. EVERYONE. Everyone except my 7 year old daughter apparently.

Looking around the playground I ask where Ben is. He's left already.  Of course he has, I expect nothing less at this point. Connor has walked up now and is noticing the snail. This is more of an event than you might think.  Connor hates 90% of all living creatures, liking only humans, cats, dogs and the occasional cow or bunny. Snails are NOT on her favorite list. I begin herding my crew to the car and my "friend" says, "Yea, good luck with that snail" I'm not repeating what I mouthed at her. The other bizarre part about this situation is that Tessi hates Ben right now.  He has been driving her crazy for months. He chases her and stalks her in the playground. However since he's given her a baby and a sob story about its mother dying ( Really? The snail's mother died? What crap) and Bob's Your Uncle...Tessi thinks he's wonderful again. Christ, she's way too young to be suckered in by a cheap pick up lies from a cute boy. 

 I mention to Tessi that in the future the correct response to someone offering her a pet is,"Why thank you, I'd love to but my mother will beat me bloody raw if I do." Other kids hear me say this as I walk by and a couple looked a bit fearful.  Oh, if only my kids were fearful of me. Wouldn't my life be so much easier.

We enjoy a 17 minute car ride home together. In this case I would use a very loose definition of the word enjoy.  It was entertaining for someone, I'm sure. Shelly, our new snail friend (my suggestion of calling it escargot went ignored) began to make a break for it. Tessi thought it was hilarious to watch the snail cling up the side up and out onto her hand. Connor found it decidedly less hilarious. I'm proud of her, however. She only screamed for half the ride home. That's an improvement for her. Then of course Tessi got mad and accused Connor of being mean to her snail and not respecting her little life.  I started to wonder if I speed up and drive the car into the big water tower on Galston road if I could drown out the noise. I decided against it as I'm sure their voices are shrill enough to pierce the afterlife.

Getting into the house I head for the kitchen and find saran wrap. I cover up the container and trap Shelly. I then take a fork and poke a thousand holes in the top so the disgusting thing can breathe. Tomorrow morning it's going right back to school and straight back to her daddy Ben's loving arms. Tessi is now starting to notice that perhaps I'm not delirious with joy at the arrival our new guest. She starts promising to never bring another insect into the house. After explaining that Shelly isn't an insect and that there is a ton of creatures, not just insects, that she's not allowed to bring home I have to comfort her because she's sad. Sad that no one likes the snail, sad that I'm not happy, sad that Connor is mean to snails and hates Nature and sad for...I don't know what else, I stopped listening as my ears were starting to bleed. I soothed her, told her everything would be ok and then we make sure Shelly has some water in her prison. 

I myself am skipping the water and have gone straight to champers. That way any more surprises will have an extra layer to penetrate before reaching my brain.