Here I am. Two years later. Typing on my keyboard with a broken shift key cause my kids spilt milk or something on it, like 6 months ago. so forgive the lowercase. i'm tired of hitting the right shift key.
i am up because i lost my kids puppy tonight. the little, cute morkie ran out the gate (that i left open while i zoomed out the driveway to see my homeopathic doctor who had to give my 7 year old an emotional remedy.) and lo and behold, it's 9:00 at night and we're wondering where the dog is. i drive up and down the street asking neighbors, someone says some lady picked her up. so off to make "lost dog" signs tomorrow. and please, lord, the dog shows up otherwise my 7 year old, who is already anxious about loosing her tooth and blood squirting everywhere and possibly having a bad dream about it and also anxious about the car driving (impossibly) into our pond, is now anxious about her lost puppy.
and after "the lost puppy incident" occurred, my fiscally responsible hubs does the budget and realizes i've been buying food and gas and necessities. and also soccer camp. and floaties for the pool. possibly a bottle of wine was purchased, too. and so i get the semi-guilt trip of "only spending what we budgeted to spend" talk. and i'm only half listening cause i'm trying to laugh about the latest snl church lady skit.
and before the "lost puppy incident where my mom who didn't even buy the dog a collar or a microchip zoomed off before we could even think about taking care of our dog" happened, i went to our homeopathic lady this morning where my emotional healing journey came to a glorious not-conclusion. really just another chapter of my "i kind of thought my heart was healed but i guess maybe i should just be ok with being in a constant state of a hot mess" journey. which i'll get to some day. next week or in two more years.
and yes, we are those crazy people who do homeopathic and oil and emotional remedy stuff. and she thought my pancreas was out of whack and that has to do with my heart and emotional stuff-ed-ness that i'm so good at. and so while i'm taking a foot bath, trying to detox my body, and also doing a lot of random crying, i'm thinking through the teacher gift i have to organize for my 5 year old. and also what's for lunch, since apparently my pancreas is not liking what i'm eating right now.
then after i pick all three girls up from school, and two fall asleep, i call my friend on speakerphone, cause who knows where my stupid ear buds are. and i talk to her in a half-whisper, half-yell-into-the-speaker-phone cause i need the gps on my phone to show me how to get to trader joe's. and all we're doing is just organizing a changing-the-world-kind-of-women's-gathering in our local community. you know--talking shop, like logistics and stuff. all the while i'm trying to exchange two near-comatose children (neither with shoes on, we later discover in the bathroom) into the shopping cart, forgetting my save-the-planet-reusable-bags in the trunk, and whisper directing the 7 year old to get the miniature cart cause everything is NOT going to fit in one buggy since the purse and the 5 and 3 year old are already taking up 98% of it. meanwhile, creating an org-chart with my good friend Elizabeth on the phone. also, at the exact same time thinking of healthy and organic food to buy that my kids may or may not actually eat. and will possibly tell each other, "just hold your nose while you eat it and you won't have to taste it." thank you, children.
then it's home again to mow a single strip of the lawn so i can lay the hose back down on it to water the garden that is exactly two acres away from the house. the garden which i so lovingly don't weed. and as i'm almost done mowing, the girls give me the "emergency!! someone is either bleeding or missing or unconscious" signal, so i cut the engine, pull the ear buds out, and hop down, only to discover the 7 year old quote un-quote "whipped" the 5 year old with a small piece of twine after the said 5 year old refused to go inside to get the 3 year old another baby doll. so 20 minutes of fight club dialogue later, i think we resolve the issue, only to get the reminder on my phone to put the meatballs in the oven. and then the text from my homeopathic lady to come get the emotional recover remedy for the anxious 7 year old. then i loose the dog. then i destroy the budget. then i realize i need that blasted recover remedy cause I'm the anxious one around here. and why didn't i have a glass of wine before bed?!?!
then i realize i am a hot mess. but, its a work in progress. my heart is. and my pancreas.
and tomorrow, i will find that dog. work through some emotional healing during my 4 minutes of morning yoga, tell my kids and my hubs that they are literally the best things ever, hug my friends and say, "thank you for sistering me," and then mix a little of that blasted emotional recover remedy into my wine after all the kids are in bed. :)