Like a Blow to the Head, Only Better

I think the end times are coming. All across the internet I have been reading tales of how children and adolescents have been kind, compassionate, and less than terrible.

I have my own story to share, which should cement my Armageddon theory quite nicely.

Last Friday I was getting ready to take the kids into school. All four were tucked into the car, and I darted back into the kitchen for a cup of coffee to take with me for the drive into town. Coffee in hand, I locked the kitchen door and started to walk around the back of the car.

I didn't see the gray patch of ice on the floor of our carport and before I even knew what was happening, I had slipped, my body hitting the cement with a solid thunk as the wind knocked out of my lungs, the clanging of my favorite coffee cup ringing in my ears as it broke against the tail of my bumper.

Let me just pause for a minute to tell you what was going through my head as I struggled to breathe and get wind into my lungs so I could properly moan in pain. I stared at the ice patch that was now up against my cheek and nose and thought, Damn. That was my favorite coffee cup.

I had no expectations of what was to follow. I have often wondered what my kids would do if I were to accidentally maim myself in the kitchen while preparing them a meal. My guess would have been that they wouldn't have blinked an eye from their slug-like postures on the couch. I can picture one of them hearing the thud of my body making contact with the kitchen tile and calling over her shoulder for me to fetch some fruit snacks once I regained consciousness.

So, imagine my surprise when I bit it on the cement and within one or two seconds I heard the doors to the car swing open and found myself eye to toe with three pairs of feet (Jack, understandably, was harnessed in his carseat, although I'm sure a well of compassion bubbled in his baby gut).

"Mom! Don't move! Let us help you up!"

"Are you okay, Mama?"

"I'll go get you more coffee!"

And I was pulled, patted, and led to the driver's seat as if I had just hired my own set of hospital orderlies. The nice kind.

I cannot tell you how happy this made me. All day I floated on a cloud of spun sugar and sparkles as I recreated the scene in my head. I called my friends. I called my husband. We ooed and aaahed over their sweet behavior. I now scour parking lots for ice patches in hopes of recreating the lovefest that was my crash to the ground. My children cared! Enough to move their bodies!

It is a glorious time, and certainly a sign from above that the world is ending. Make your amends now, and go inflict a head wound in front of your offspring to test my theory if you don't believe me.

Lemonade and Gratitude

We've been given a few lemons and I'm considering opening up a lemonade stand. Because I'm making lemonade! And remaining positive! Heh.

So the family from California that is was buying our home have lost their financing, due to an inability to sell their dental clinic. Which means our house is packed up and we have no buyers. Stunningly, we are all okay with this. We accepted their offer with very little earnest money because we're trusting people, and hey, we're not greedy. So, given the amount of money we've spent fixing the house up and paying for packing materials, storage units, etc., we're about even. And we get to continue to market the house and keep on keeping on.

Or. We may just keep the house and get a smaller place when we move (we're moving out of town, and we still don't know where. Bob's company has two venues in mind for him and we're waiting to see which one pops. Ambiguity? Awesome way to keep things lively). Which would mean we would be living in a very small home with the kids doubled up in bedrooms and a second home that sleeps over a dozen with ease. Anybody want a winter vacation rental in possibly one of the most beautiful places in the southwest, email me.

We're at the point where we really aren't too upset over it, probably because we made the decision to place it in God's hands long ago, and if we keep it on the market, we have the world's best realtor.

******************

Today we spoke with our family in Minnesota to make sure everyone is okay. I case you haven't been reading the news banners, a large bridge simply collapsed in Minneapolis yesterday during rush hour. Four people are known to be dead, and twenty more are missing. Bob's cousin and her kids crossed that very bridge yesterday at three in the afternoon. By six, it was in the river. We are so thankful everyone is okay, and yet unbearably sad for the families that are living a nightmare right about now.

We're still planning on traveling there next week, although our kids have made us promise no bridge crossing. That seems pretty fair to me.

My Cup Runneth Over

Andi over at Poot and Cubby has made my day. Actually, she's made my entire week. She awarded me the July Perfect Post Award for this post, and I am beyond flabbergasted.


I've said it before, although probably not enough times, that I truly love this blogging community I have found myself in. I often play the "lighthearted, go for a laugh" card with my posts, but I want you to know that when I get positive affirmation from you guys, it brightens my day. In a big way.

I don't know what else to say. I'm verklempt, and I just feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Thanks.

Ants on a Log

Thank God the weekend is almost here. What a week. Maddie's bedroom was flooded due to a slab leak caused by tree roots, we've switched realtors, and I got to be the lucky lady to fire our last one, the dishwasher broke before I left for Mexico and a repair person is only just getting here today, yadda yadda yadda. I'm ready to sleep in and have Bob make the coffee!On the flip side, it's been absolutely beautiful weather (okay, a little hot, but it's summer for cripe's sake), Chloe has been away at camp for nearly a week and no calls from her counselor stating she's homesick or hurt herself, and today I get to make ants on a log for Jacob's day camp.Last year, when Jacob attended the very same day camp studying bugs, Jack had been born, and we were spending our days in the NICU while the kids were scattered at various day camps. On the last day of Jacob's camp, there was a big "Bug Blowout" and all the parents came at lunchtime with some buggie food concoction to share. I broke away from Jack, right before a blood gas test that was pretty crucial, and went with Bob to the Bug Blowout. Earlier that week, my dad and his wife had made brownies and mailed them in a care package to our family, so I grabbed the tupperware container of baked love and brought that as my contribution. They were delicious, but not "buggy" and I could tell that Jacob sensed my distraction and worry. This year? I am making ants on a log (celery with peanut butter and raisins) and Jack and I are coming to the Bug Blowout. All 23 pounds of him. He'll probably shriek his displeasure at being up and in a hot camp room with a dozen or so little campers, but that will make me smile today, as I think of how strong his lungs must be to wail like he can. We're going to have a blast.Have an awesome weekend.