Friday, June 14, 2013

Packing, moving, throwing up and court. How was YOUR week?


Okay friends, you want an update, recap or whatever since my last post? We move in 2 days and get married in 9. How do you think its going? Scratch those figures. I started this post yesterday but my day completely T-boned into my schedule and I didn’t finish it. So now we have 1 day until we move and 8 days until we get hitched. The heat is on. 

Nothing gets me turned on like a completed TO DO list. There’s just something special that happens inside of me when I can check things off of a list. But let’s just say, I am nowhere near turned on at the moment.  (sorry mom. I know! I know! "I don't like that Mandy")

We’ve been living out of boxes like homeless people. My house looks Hurricane Katrina came back for seconds and my OCD has kicked into overdrive. Nothing is in its place because nothing has a place anymore. 

During my packing I realized I have a little bit of hoarder in me. I hoard on accident. I don’t value any of the junk I have found while packing, but for some reason I have an abundance of useless crap. Also, we have an embarrassing amount of happy meal toys. Is it possible we went to McDonalds, 2,897 times in the last year? I need to check my bank statements and report back to you on that.  I shudder at the mass amounts of processed nuggets my kids have consumed. 

I packed up the kid’s room while they were at their dad’s. The trick to packing up a child’s room is to do it while they aren’t looking. Otherwise they have an epiphany of how special every single toy is and how they would have played with it more if they knew where it was. Suuuuure! I loaded up two boxes worth of junk toys! I consolidated the good stuff down to one box. I feel completely confident that this one box will too go unplayed with and unrecognized until the next time we move. Then in our attempt to toss these toys out the kids will declare their undying love for them. It’s a vicious and ridiculous cycle. Take my advice and don’t ask the kids to help you pack. 

Earlier this week Logan threw up in the middle of the night. All over my bed. And all over Kylee. And all over himself. I knew that expensive mattress protector I splurged for would pay off eventually. Those impromptu nights of barf seem to last for days. I grab Logan from the bed and begin removing his Puke-Tee; he begins shivering because his body is drenched in his regurgitated dinner. Kylee is standing before me like a star fish. Hands and arms spread wide open begging to take a shower. Then Logan begins the dry-heave dance, still naked. I rush him to the toilet. As he hovers over the porcelain I realize his back end is also sick. Crap! Literally. Every orifice in his body has something coming out of it. Tears, puke, and doo doo, oh my! Once everyone was cleaned and emptied, we snuggled on the couch until midnight. I wanted at least 30 minutes to pass without any vomit before I put him back in bed. We all finally passed out.

I went to court the other day to try enforce some responsibility on the X-man. It’s semi-comical the multiple loops of fire single parents are forced to leap through for minimal assistance. Time off work, parking downtown, waiting in lines, filling out forms, walking in heels. Its insanity yall. But I did it. I get to the front of the line to be informed I am one damn form short of seeing the judge. It was my lucky day though (sarcasm) because the place I needed to get the form was right there in downtown Fort Worth. Just a short 3 blocks away. In hells. Correction, HEELS. But I think the first word is fitting. These torture devices called heels just about took my life from me that day. I finally retrieve the form I need. Paid $.97 for the copies, I walk back to the original place of friendly people who hate their jobs, turn in my form and get sent to the courtroom to see the judge. After an hour of waiting and watching other dead beat dads plead their case I finally I get to go up and plead mine. $7 for parking, $.97 cents on copies, a blister on my big toe and 3 hours of my life later, I’m one happy girl. Justice isn’t served as quickly as it should be, but we are well on our way to it. 

There’s your recap. Have a great weekend! Just remember no matter how crappy your weekend is, at least you aren’t moving.