The last few days have been rough. You know, like the Rocky Mountains are ‘rough’. Like South Central LA is ‘rough’. The webmaster’s been out of town attending a funeral (so, yes, it’s been more ‘rough’ for him and I’m a giant baby for complaining about anything in comparison. But this isn’t his blog. And funerals aren’t as funny to read about.) so I’ve been going at the usual chaos solo.
Things I’ve learned in the 72 hours he’s been gone so far:
1. We definitively do not have enough dishes to go three days without washing any. And we really don’t have enough wine glasses for that.
2. People who say you shouldn’t use the TV as a babysitter don’t have three boys, no parenting partner and 500 holiday cards to mail out. And are judgy and mean.
3. The GOV’s back-up sensor thingy doesn’t account for my idiocy. It’s not smarter than I am stupid; is what I’m saying.
4. I should probably be nicer to Jason. He really does a lot around here. But let’s keep this revelation just between us; if he figures out how much I actually need him, he’s totally going to want a raise.
So yes, the holiday card mailer and calendar went out Friday. I’m not going to go through that whole story because I told it last year (although going back and reading that triggered a bit of PTSD for me. This year wasn’t THAT bad), but suffice it to say I had several visits with Mary, The Nice Bulk Mail Nazi Who Regardless of her Niceness Still Makes Everything Excessively Complicated (that’s her official title).
You should probably get them tomorrow. This is your official announcement that there is a GIGANTIC TYPO on the card. I found it about 13.5 seconds after Costco printed 500 copies of them. My buddy (and fellow real estate agent), Ken, suggested I hold a contest for who can find it and point it out first, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m giving away two $10 Itunes gift cards as prizes. The first will go to the first person to send me an email pointing out what the typo is. The second will go to the person who emails me the best explanation of why the typo is wrong. You have until Christmas Eve to get that to me and I will choose my favorite and post it here. (Yes, I’m aware I haven’t chosen my final New Website Day winner yet. I’m getting to it. Don’t worry; I haven’t forgotten.)
That was the cheerful part of the post. Now on to the part where I describe the day that will be known until the end of time as The Multitasking Fail Day. Oh you thought that day already existed? Yeah, so did I. Until yesterday happened. Yes, it involves number 3 on my ‘Things I’ve learned…’ list.
The pertinent background info: Yesterday was the day my two older sons were being picked up by their Grandma Linda to go visit Texas for a few days before Christmas. I spent the morning rushing around like a meth addict wrapping the presents for that section of the family, helping the boys finish making the Christmas cards, keeping Jonas from taking the scissors, stickers and stamps to our cat, Blue, and packing all of this up to make it plane-ready. By the time 1:30 PM rolled around (the drop-dead time we needed to leave for the airport) I had locked the boys all out in the backyard for 20 minutes so that I could finish shoving underwear and socks into suitcases without worrying that Jonas was peeing on something or grabbing an ornament off the tree to bring over to the tile and throw it at the ground as hard as he could. I was at the end of my rope, is the point.
The incident: When we finally began piling into the GOV we were already 5 minutes behind schedule. I opened the side door and let the kids get in while I went around the back to put in the suitcases. As I stooped to pick up the first one I heard the telltale beeping to indicate the door to the back of the GOV (the one that I was standing underneath) was about to begin closing.
I dropped the bag and ducked out of the way while grabbing for my keys to double push the button to open it again. As soon as I did this the stupid door began closing again. My poor, feeble, over-taxed brain couldn’t come to a conclusion for why this was occurring besides occult possession. This went on several more times, with me almost getting crushed to death attempting to shove suitcases into the back before the door closed on me, until I realized Jonas was standing at the front of the car pushing the button to close the back every time I pushed mine to open it. So it was less occult possession and more Jonas possession. Although, really, 6 of one, half a dozen of the other, right?
I’m actually kind of surprised my head didn’t explode right there and splatter brain goo all over the inside of the garage.
Once the screaming stopped and I had all of the kids secured in their seats and all of the bags in the back (closed under the exorcised door), I got into the car, threw it in reverse and smashed directly into the half-closed garage door.
At least that’s how I remember it went. According to Gray, who was seated behind me quietly observing my mental breakdown, it actually went like this:
I put the car in reverse.
I reached up and pushed the button to close the garage door.
I smashed directly into the closing garage door.
We’ve gotten to the point, in our family where screaming and swearing on my part doesn’t really bother my kids. They know it means I’m a little overstressed and they just need to be quiet and follow directions and I’ll get through and apologize later. Abject sobbing, however, still apparently has the power to freak them out.
I did get the kids to the airport. We were 10 minutes late, I had to further break the garage door to get it up far enough to back out and then shut it and I had mascara tracks down my cheeks, but we made it there.
Jason gets home today. I’m going to let him deal with getting this repaired: