Ending the Week With a Bang

My dad and I talk typically talk at least once a day. Often more. He will either call after work or before bed because it's still hard for him to come home to that big empty house. As of late, his favorite question for the past couple of weeks has been "So, what good news do you have for me today?"

Good news? Since "I got out of bed this morning" and "I shined my sink" don't *really* feel like good news, I haven't quite known what to say. I have to say, though, that the week in review is EVENTFUL.

Monday
Okay, I am going to have to out Janine regarding the 911 phone calls alluded to in the previous post. This incident is one of the most hilarious and zany moments of my entire life. I am so glad my friends will go to such lengths to make me laugh.

10:13 pm
Phone rings
Me: "Hello?"
Janine, over lots of noise: "~L! I just got locked in the [nationally known] pharmacy. Everyone is gone and I can't get a hold of my husband. What do I do?"
Me: "Uh, you're where?"
Janine, over lots of noise which is suspiciously sounding like an alarm: "Well, I went up to the [nationally known] pharmacy to pick up a few things. When I turned around everyone was gone and the doors are locked. I went and banged on the manager's door and set off the store alarm. I was thinking about going out the fire exit, but it says I need a code... WHAT DO I DO?"

We discussed whether or not to call 911 briefly and then I told her I would head out the door to the pharmacy just up the street. I figured the manager's name and possibly, hopefully, an emergency number for said manager would be posted on the building. As I got into the car and screeched out of the driveway, I decided I ought to call 911 and enlist the help of professionals. (She also decided to call them as I was en route, hence the dueling "locked inside the local pharmacy" distress calls.)

As I arrived at the pharmacy, I encountered the gentleman for the security company in the parking lot. I explained the situation to him. Looking a little relieved that she wasn't heisting Valium and Snickers bars while packing heat, he immediately got on the radio and interacted with the fire department when they arrived. I called Janine on the other side of the glass and told them they were trying to get in touch with store management, and to hang in there. Luckily, the shift supervisor lived near the store and Janine was soon sprung from pharmacy entrapment.

Thursday
10:15 pm
I use the bathroom on my way to bed, you know, the typical night routine. I should have seen this coming because the water in the toilet wasn't the usual level. I should have seen this coming because my dear five year old son spent AN HOUR on the potty earlier that day. Still... I was tired and dismissed that little voice that said "This isn't right."

As I flushed, the water kept rising...

"CRAP!" (no pun intended at the time)

M comes running in the room and I am frantically clearing the toilet chamber lid. We get the lid off, but to no avail... water comes pouring over the side of the bowl. Luckily, that water was not of super icky proportions (no solids). M got the water shut off and promptly began assessing the situation. No plunger, the other drains in the house seemed to drain just fine... it must be something in the toilet.

M: "Uh, how many [kid DIY empowering] 'flushable' wipes were in the box?"
Me: "It was a fairly new pack, why?"
M: "It's empty."
Me: "Crap."
*M and I exchange knowing looks*
Me: "So, please inform your son in the morning that if he wouldn't sit on the potty for an hour and let the crap bake dry on his ass, he wouldn't feel he has to use 100 flushable wipes."
M smirks: "Oh, I will let him know."

One remolded and ready-for-fishing-expedition coat hanger, a gallon of Liquid Plumber and one late-night 24-hour Walmart plunger later, our toilet was back in working form.

Friday
I figured Janine could use a girl's lunch, so I give Kay and Janine a call. Janine's daughter Chloe had an early release day from school. I offered to pick up Chloe from school and bring her along. It was date.

I picked Chloe up from school at noon and headed across town to our restaurant destination. About 3 miles away from Chloe's school, Chloe notices that the principal of her school is driving in the car next to us.

Chloe: "Look ~L! There's Mr. Pope, the Principal of my school!"
Me: "That's cool!" I glance over to the red convertible.
Chloe: "Isn't that a pretty car?" It is a pretty car. A nice shiny fairly new mid-life-crisis kind of car.
Chloe: "Pull up next to him!"
Me: "There's a red light up ahead, you can wave at him there."

We pull up to the light. Chloe looks over and waves, to no avail. The light turns green and both cars pull into the intersection. In a split second I hear a horn and see, out of the corner of my eye, the red convertible break hard and a blue car land Ka-Thud on the side of my car. Thanks to that shiny red car, the blue car only hit my truck hard enough to leave smears of paint across both passenger doors. Shaken, I pulled across the intersection and pull over, the red car did the same. The blue car? When the light turned green, the blue car left.

WTF?!?!?!?!

Chloe, NJ and I lucked out. It could have been much, much worse. I didn't call the cops then, but I should have. I tried to file a report later that day, but the cops wouldn't take it, despite that fact I had TWO eyewitnesses and the blue car's license plate. (A gentleman who works for the city got the plate and gave me his name.)

Needless to say, it's been quite a week, let's hope next week isn't so eventful.

Miscellaneous Meanderings

I've got too many paths to blog about to focus on any one thing. So here's the hodgepodge. Try and keep up, will you?

Harry Potter.
I am checking out the photos from The Order of the Phoenix. The Phelps twins *are* looking a bit old for their roles, but I won't say the same for the rest of the crew. They seem very "age appropriate" to me. Gee. Been so long since I have my head in Harry's world. I miss Harry. I miss his magical ability to subside my kidney pain long enough to let the damn thing pass. Had I been reading any other book, I would have been in more pain and misery. I look forward to the movie. And OF COURSE the next book. *sniff* That LAST book. I hope the end befits the entire ride.

Applications
I have submitted two job applications with more on the horizon. It doesn't answer the "am I going back to work?" inquiry. It might. There are smarter ways to do this than to type in the computer endlessly. Am I going to do more? Unknown.

Birthdays
We have birthdays coming up, kids and adults. I am booked on Oct. 15 and prolly 14 too. We HAVE to celebrate Kay's "18th birthday" in a special way this year. Le Bare Club? Something. Then Chloe in her wonder mini woman glory. At the end of the month I have to watch for those Halloweeners.

Dinner
I hate recipes. (not really) I hate following recipes when I see better ways of doing things. So, I largely cook off the cuff. Lastest dishes: Top Shelf Chicken one night and Curry Burgers another night. Both yummy. You just never know with me.

Rescue Services
God bless my girlfriend for creating such an exciting night on Monday. Playing damsel in disress is so underrated these days. Two 911 calls. At least there was a chaotic rescue. God bless cell phones, eh Janine?

So tired. Time to wobble off...

NewsFlash!

NJ rolled over today. Tummy to back. YEEHAW! Way to celebrate 3 months of life, sweetie!

Funkified

It isn't just my mood lately. The funk has also been in G's lunchbag.

I have been sending G to Kindergarten with a packed lunch almost every day. I figured since he's such a picky eater for me, he'd be just as picky for the public lunch system. I have endeavoured to be creative and send something different each day of the week. The packed lunch has become a secret language between mother and son. He never wants to know beforehand what I have packed. He likes the surprise of it. And I like to surprise him too.

Apparently, he likes to surprise me daily too, with the day's end sludge in the bottom of the lunchbag I packed. That boy won't throw away his trash to save his life. I asked him several times to please throw his trash away at the end of lunch period in the cafeteria. Last week, I asked his teacher to intervene and please oversee the trash departure. The bag came home clean until today.

Contents:
One mostly empty juice box
straw out of said juice box
yogurt sludge
empty yogurt container with peeled back lid
crushed Ritz crackers
crumbles of cheddar cheese
tray in which the Ritz crackers and cheese came in
a red apple with exactly two bites taken out
roll of sweettarts, whole but now sticky
spoon
wadded napkin

Ew.

Is this a boy thing? Pre-occupied five year-old thing? Or is this "Mom, I love you and love it when you take care of me" thing? Yeah, that last one must be it. *eye roll*

The Chase

Let's waste time
chasing cars
around our heads

I need your grace
to remind me
to find my own
~Snow Patrol, Chasing Cars

As a creative soul and writer, I spend alot of time exploring my navel in search of the Truth and the Meaning of Life. Then I attempt to write about those pieces of navel lint. I hope these ruminations actually reflect a small portion of what I discover inside, alas, words often fail to capture the enormity of the intended communication. Sometimes I completely fail in my attempt. Sometimes I am not sure where I stand in the communication. This brings me to yesterday's post. I felt like I should say more, even though perhaps I don't need to.

Depression and I are longtime "frenemies." I grew up with the negative things I said about depression, but I don't believe them. Not truly. I still fight with those conversations on occasion, because just as it takes time to learn ways of seeing life, it also takes time to unlearn those ways.

I was first diagnosed with and treated for depression 18 years ago. If I played My Own Personal Freud, I would suspect it started much earlier. It probably began as I came to realize that I would never achieve true perfection. True perfection was the only way to convince myself and others in my life that I was good enough. Perfection is still the Dragon I chase.

My Own Personal Freud: But you realize that dragons don't exist. Don't you?
Me: Yes, I know. Dragons are a figment of our imagination. Dragons only exist in stories.
My Own Personal Freud: Yes, Dragons aren't real...yet, you continue to chase. Do you suspect it is the thrill of the chase?
Me: Isn't my hour up yet?

Stuck in a Moment

I battle depression.

There, I have said it. Out loud. In public.

It's something about me that most people who have known me a long time understand about me. I rarely admit it though. I pretend that things are okay with me most of the time. This is how I learned to operate: "everything is okay" at face value. If you admit how you truly feel then you're shameful. You've lost graces in other people's eyes. You let them down. You've lost credit. You're less of a person if you can't handle yourself. Depression is mental illness. Mental Illness makes people uncomfortable. They don't know how to be around you. You are fucked up. Totally. How could anyone want someone like this?

But depressed is where I have been for over a year now. As I have written, my mother's decline from cancer and eventual death was emotionally devestating to me. A mother loves with such power and devotion. Suddenly one of my biggest champions in my life was gone. One of my best friends, my soul mates, gone. Needless to say, I've been a little lost.

My experience last week has renewed me in many unforeseen ways. I think about the woman who died, a woman my age. A mother with children, her elder child the same age as mine. This situation spikes my fears of losing G. In my bouts of depression, he is my light. He is my levity. My husband and my friends provide a similar levity. (When I let them.)

But this past week, I feel more awake. I feel more in touch. I FEEL.

I don't feel quite so shut down. Not willing to hide. I hope this feeling lasts.

Bearer

There's that moment which comes in everyone's life where things slow down. Things become surreal. Irrational. When the three men wearing sheriff's hats and bright yellow rain slickers labeled "POLICE" knocked solidly on our door yesterday, my world shifted.

I was sitting in our living room with my shirt opened nursing NJ when they arrived. I made M answer the door. In my head I was running through anything that would bring the police to my house: Is there a warrant for my arrest I don't know about? Are they here to take something away? Are they soliciting for the police force?

"How well do you know your neighbors?"

I craned my head around, trying to shield my naked chest. Neighbors? Something happened? Is someone dealing drugs? Did someone break in?

M looked at the officer and stammered that yes, we know them. We talk to them when gardening, chat here and there. Did we know them really well? No, we didn't spend alot of time with them...

"There's been an accident."

I button my shirt as I head for the door.

"We were wondering if you knew them well enough to come over and sit with them for awhile. There was a car accident and their daughter was killed and her two little girls..."

I stood in disbelief a moment. The one with the little girl about G's age? Yes, the officer confirmed that. The daughter was about my age, with two kids who were not far from the ages of my own. I immediately agreed to accompany the officers. They said they were going to go deliver the news and that one would come for me momentarily.

M and I closed the door and looked at each other. I decided to finish feeding NJ before I went in search of shoes. The officers came back within a few minutes.

"They aren't home. It is possible they have already gotten the news. Thank you for agreeing to come with us. We've left some contact information for them."

And with that, they left.

Within the hour I noticed our neighbor's truck pulling into the driveway, the dark silhouette of two passengers inside. I wandered out onto the porch and saw the truck pull out again sans one passenger. I went back inside and told M that the neighbors had come home but the husband had left again.

M thought we should wait before approaching them. I agreed. The longer I sat on the couch, the more uneasy I got. The husband wouldn't have left his wife had he known. I grabbed my shoes. Our neighbors are like us, they rarely use their front door. If the officers left something on the front door, they weren't likely to see it that evening. I announced I would walk over and see if there was still something on the door.

As I walked by the neighbor's house, I could see her sitting on the couch, casually watching television. I approached the front of their house and checked the door. Nothing obvious. My heart hammered in my chest. I went up to the door and knocked. The porch light switched on and my neighbor peeked out the window and waved to me.

"Hi L! Come in!" she quipped. My heart sank, I was sure my legs would give. I walked in despite my fears.

I told her that the police had come to the house searching for she and her husband. I relayed that there had been an accident involving one of their daughters. She panicked a moment and asked if I knew which one. I couldn't say, it wasn't my place to tell her. I didn't want to misinform her, I had such limited information. Her husband pulled back in the driveway as she pulled out her address book. He walked in and I repeated the information.

They began calling. First daughter in town, left a message. Second daughter in town, spoke with briefly. Between calls, the neighbor talked about how they had just gotten back into town from one of the daughter's houses for the weekend. That the daughter followed them in her car back into town to attend a funeral of a friend. With her two girls. The daughter had been not far behind them. They were driving a big SUV. The neighbors continued calling the police department who informed them that the highway had been shut down to a major accident and they needed to take down our neighbor's information and get back to them.

The next call... the next call was to the husband of the third daughter. I held my breath and prayed this was a mistake. I prayed with all my heart that this couldn't be happening to them. But that call confirmed all our greatest fears. Their daughter and granddaughters had been killed in a car accident.

I left them in shock, preparing to go to the hospital. I am in shock too. When my mother passed away, I expected it. We had preparation. Regardless of the cancer, I expected that she pass away first before my sister and I. I think that is everyone's expectation, parents first... children later. I can't imagine how I would feel if G or NJ died before I left the planet myself.

My thoughts and prayers are with my neighbors.