But now I kinda have to. And I have to write about Wednesday. And today.
Tuesday morning at about 11, I got a call from Buffy. From the way her voice sounded, my immediate thought was that someone was dead. I wish I could recreate in writing what it sounded like, but the closest I can come is that it reminded me of when Linda Blair says "Your mother sucks cocks in Hell" in the Exorcist, only she was whispering.
Basically, she was sick, she needed to get to a doctor, her husband was working, and she couldn't drive herself. I said I'd go pick her up as soon as Tito got picked up for school. So I packed my knitting (thank GOD I had the presence of mind to do that) showed up at her house at about 1. And when she answered the door, she looked like she'd been sucking cocks in Hell for about two days. She was clearly very, very sick.
She didn't have an actual appointment, but she had called her doctor's office and they were going to try to "work her in" at around 2. We got there at about 1:20 and they put us in a room right away. But I knew better than to be encouraged by that.
Buffy told me she'd gone to an Urgent Care in Springfield the day before, where they told her she had Strep Throat and gave her antibiotics. She wasn't feeling better and her throat hurt so bad she couldn't eat or drink anything, so she was severely dehydrated.
You may remember that Strep and I have a bit of a history. I asked her if she'd had Gatorade or Propel, which is my standard treatment for the Strep I've dealt with six times in the last year or so. She hadn't. I went to the hospital snack bar and brought her back two bottles of Gatorade. I'm nice.
She asked me to see if I could find her a blanket. The nurse asked if I was Buffy's girlfriend. Um, no, just tryin to help a sister out. Got a fuckin blanket, Anita Bryant?
The doctor came in at about 2:30, wrote her two prescriptions and said to take her to Intubation in the other hospital building where they'd give her fluids for two hours. That was fine, I called to let Beeb know where I was, no big deal. I got her to the Intubation place (which smelled like salsa and B.O.), and sat there while they got her hooked up. Needles and IV's totally ick me out.
She asked if I would mind running down to the hospital pharmacy and getting her prescription filled. Sure, I said. Better than sitting here.
So I walked back to the other building and waited while I got only one of the two prescriptions filled. They told me they didn't have the other one. Um, isn't this a HOSPITAL??
I figured maybe they just had a run on whatever the fuck it was, so I'd just offer to go somewhere else to get it. When I got back and handed her both the bottle of pills that they gave me and the paper for they said they couldn't fill, and she said -
Oh, that's the MORPHINE. That's the one I reeeeeeeally neeeeeeeeded...
Morphine. Cuz she's allergic to both Vicodin and Percoset.
So I figured my choices were stay there and listen to her moan, or try to get my hands on some Morphine. Instantly the immortal words of NWA ran through my mind - "You know who the fuck I am? This bitch is tryin to gank me. Imma slap ya upside the head wit nine inchesa limp dick!!" It's from DOPEMAN, if you're not familiar.
I went to the closest 24-hour Walgreens, armed with Buffy's credit card, her ID, and her insurance card. I don't know how tough it is to score Morphine for yourself, but imagine trying to get it for someone who isn't you when you can't answer the questions the pharmacist is asking.
Ma'am, do you know what this is for?
Um, no, not really. It's for my friend who's at the hospital.
Why didn't the doctor just give it to her there?
No, no, she hasn't been admitted or anything, she's in for Strep and she's really dehydrated, and she's in immense pain, and she can't take Percoset or Vicodin and they've got her hooked up to IV fluids and whatnot...
Are you aware that this is a VERY. UNUSUAL. CONCENTRATION?
I'm not aware of anything, dude, I'm just trying to be a nice person, and the hospital pharmacy didn't have it, so that's why I'm here.
Well, we don't have it either.
Look... is there ANY way you could call the doctor's office to see if there's any alternative that you DO have that would work? Cuz there is NO WAY I'm going back there without her pain meds.
There I was, on the verge of tears, and it wasn't even my drama. Long story short, they eventually called the doctor and got something so I didn't have to return to Buffy empty-handed. I texted Buffy to see if she wanted me to bring her food, hoping she'd say Shit yeah, I'm starving, and get something for yourself too... but she didn't want anything.
I got back to the hospital at around 5. Buffy wasn't done yet. I knew that Perfect Baby needs to be picked up from the day care by 6. Good thing we'd brought the car seat, just in case.
I gave Buffy the meds, and she asked if I could get her some juice because liquid Morphine tastes really bad. The nurse asked me if I was Buffy's girlfriend.
We got out of there at 5:30 and headed to get Perfect Baby. Buffy had called to tell them I was coming, so picking her up was no problem. I dropped Buffy off at 6:30, and told her, "Hey, just give me a call if you need anything", hoping it came across in the kind of way like when you're saying goodbye to someone you don't give two shits about and you're just trying to be polite.
At about 7:15 Wednesday morning, before I was even out of bed, Beebie sent me a text message from her phone asking me to bring her yearbook up to the school for Yearbook Signing. She didn't tell me where it was, so the actual request was Mom, could you spend an hour turning the house upside down, then bring me my yearbook.
I also had to locate a bunch of little trinkets and Happy Meal prize-type stuff for Tito to take for his class' Garage Sale. We were supposed to bring them to school priced, in 10-cent increments.
While I was in the process of turning the house upside down, I found Pie's overdue/assumed lost library book that I'd paid $13 for the day before.
I got Tito's stuff done, emailed the librarian and dropped the book off at the school(and got my check back), and dropped off Beeb's yearbook. Then after Tito got on the school bus, I was about to eat leftover spaghetti - oh, yeah, when I got home after spending 6 hours as Buffy's Bitch, I still managed to make spaghetti for dinner - and then I remembered that Rip was moving into his new house that day, so I thought I'd take some spaghetti over and we could eat lunch together.
The movers had broken Rip's microwave. So there went that idea.
So I'm helping him get his stuff unpacked and moved around, and while I was cleaning his refrigerator and telling him about the 6-hour Buffy ordeal, my phone rang.
Have I told you what her ringtone is? It's Queen, UNDER PRESSURE. Appropriate?
She needed to get to the hospital for a CT scan.
Now?
Anytime before they close at 5. (It was 3.)
Ok...
Oh, and I'd also need to you pick up Perfect Baby.
Well, I've got dinner plans tonight so what would be easiest for me would be to come get you now, drop you off, go and get Perfect Baby and drop her off with Princeton...
Oooooh, I was kinda hoping you could get her as close to 6 as possible, because Dummy's working and Princeton would have to take care of her all by himself, and I don't want to put too much on Princeton.
(And yet, she has no issue with fucking up MY day.)
What would make the most sense to me would be for me to (drop everything and) come get you now...
(sigh) Ok, yeah, I guess that'll be fine.
So that's exactly what I did. I immediately left Rip's house. I went and got Buffy and PB's car seat, and took her to the hospital. On our walk through the parking lot, Buffy suddenly stopped walking and started to cry:
Sarah, I just need to have a breakdown... I am in SO MUCH PAIN... And I still have to be strong and be The Mom because Dummy has no clue how to run the house... And I just can't do it. I can't.
I really wanted to say Oh really? What's that like??? Cuz right now I'm neglecting my kids and I'm fucking sick of taking care of you and everyone else and I haven't had time to eat or even PEE today and I'm kinda wishing I could have a breakdown too, but I'm being strong so YOU can have YOURS. You need to lighten the fuck up on your standards at home, is what you really need to do...
But I didn't. I hugged her. I think I was secretly hoping I'd catch Strep so I could make her MY bitch next week.
I dropped her off, took PB to Princeton, remembered we needed milk and I hadn't had a chance to the grocery store, and called Beebie. I told her that if she got her brothers ready, I'd come home and pick them up and take them to get Cheapie Sodas at Mobil On The Run because the Cardinals scored 8 the night before. Then I was going to fix the kids dinner and get them bathed and jammie-fied before I left for the evening.
We were at Shoplift N' Save when I heard PRESH-AH!! PUSHIN DOWN ON ME... Fuckin fanTASTic.
Hello?
Hi. I got done sooner than I thought and Dummy's at work for a few more hours, is there any way...
Buffy, I'm at the grocery store with the kids right now, and I need to get them home and feed them and head to the city for dinner.
And then I felt like a dick, so I added, If you can't find anyone else, then I'll try to work something out, but I've really kinda got stuff goin on...
Ok, I'll see if the neighbor can come get me...
This would be the neighbor whom she talked to before we left to make sure she'd be home when I drop PB off with Princeton. So she's using her backup, leaving her with no backup if there was something Princeton needed.
I felt like an absolute asshole for leaving her in a bind like that, but fuck, I was looking forward to going to the Iron Barley with Kev. I didn't hear back from her. And I didn't call her to make sure she had a ride.
And the Iron Barley was closed when Kev and I got there. I was so pissed. But Kev's really cool about just letting me just unload emotionally when I need to, and I went home feeling much better. Ambiguity intended.
So this morning at about 9, my mom called. I told her of the last two days of being at Buffy's beck and call. And I know I'm a douche for complaining about it. I should re-emphasize the fact that Buffy is really seriously very sick, and that she and Dummy have no family in town, and that her husband is technically unemployed and so he works odd jobs whenever he can get them and he needs to be at work, especially if Buffy's not at work. And she tells me how much she appreciates me.
Still, taking care of her for two days had taken a physical and emotional toll on me. It wasn't like I had missed a manicure appointment or something for myself; I could have dealt with that. I was putting off household things that I don't relish doing. The everyday things I needed to do - like laundry, dishes, and vacuuming, for example - weren't getting done.
And at that point, my family was becoming affected. Plus I had burned through more than half a tank of gas shuttling her and PB about. I was starting to get bitter.
And literally five minutes after I got off the phone with my mom,
PRESH-AH!!! PUSHIN DOWN ON ME... FUCK.
Hey, how are you doing?
Oh, hey, Sarah, it's Dummy. They kept Buffy overnight and now they're saying she can go home, but the only thing is that I have a job I need to get to...
Ok, I can come get her, no problem. What time?
Well, that's the thing... she's waiting to see an ENT so it might be a little bit.
That's fine, just have her call me when she's ready to go.
Thank you!
Not a problem.
I had a couple of errands to run, so I took a shower, got dressed and went to Trader Joe's. While I was in the parking lot,
PRESH-AH!!
Hello?
Well, it seems they're NOT letting me go after all. I haven't seen the ENT yet and he's the one who's going to make the determination whether I need to stay another day or not. So I have no idea...
Ok, just let me know. Once Tito gets on the bus, I can be there.
(sigh) Thank you so much, Sarah.
It's fine, I'll talk to you later.
I got home, got Tito on the bus, and fell asleep for two hours. I woke up when Beebie got home from her last day of school, crying and blotchy. She had left her purse in the gym and someone had taken it. She reported it right away, and at the end of the day, no one had turned it in. Her cell phone was in it. She was really upset.
I wasn't mad at her, but mad at the jackass kid who would take another kid's purse with a cell phone in it and not do the right thing and turn it in - and even more mad at the loser parent who doesn't teach their kid not to take something that isn't theirs. I can't imagine a parent seeing their kid with a phone that they knew they didn't have the day before and not asking them where the fuck they got it. But I called AT&T and got it shut off immediately, so it'll be useless, and so now whoever took it will probably just throw it away.
She's learned the very important Don't Let Your Purse Out Of Your Sight lesson, the hard way. The phone can be replaced, obviously, but what makes me sad is that it has pictures on it that she's taken of her brothers and her friends, which wouldn't mean anything to anybody else. The phone would be useless anyway, so at that point, why wouldn't whoever had it just turn it in?
I hate it when I am reminded that not everyone in the world is nice. That doing the right thing in a given situation isn't as important to everyone else as it is to me and the people I know.
PRESH-AH!!
Goddammit, NOT NOW.
Hello?
Hey... I'm gonna be here for a while and I'm going crazy, so I was wondering if (laughs) you felt like coming up and keeping me company?
Actually, Buffy, Beeb just got home and told me her purse and cell phone got stolen at school today.
(gasp) You're KIDDING!! Did they shut down and lock the doors and look for it?
Um, no...
Well, I would have demanded that!
She filled out a report and I talked to the assistant principal, and there wasn't any money in it or anything, just her phone and her umbrella, so really it's... I'm just kinda upset...
Oh, of course you are! I was just going to see if you could pick up Perfect Baby and keep her for a little while until Dummy gets done...
I need to call and get the phone shut off and everything, and Beeb's really a mess, but if there's no one else who can, then let me know.
And as of this moment, I haven't heard back. But the last two times I've told the story, within minutes I'm under PRESH-AH!!! So I'm kinda taking a risk by telling y'all about where I've been for the last few days, but I do it because I love you bitches.
And you've seen what I'm willing to do for people I don't even really like a whole lot.
This probably won't be a funny post. Oh, who am I kidding? It might be a little funny - I can't help it. But if you read me primarily to laugh, you won't hurt my feelings if you click away now. I'll try to have a funny one next time.
Some of y'all have beheld my brilliance since the time when all I wrote about was my sucktastic knitting, long before I gave myself permission to let the F-bombs fall where they may. If you've been with me since before this blog was funny, then may the God you believe in bless you.
Over the last few years, you've been here for potty training, my boys starting kindergarten and my girl starting junior high, phone harrassment, Lubaba, Swamp Thing... and I've truly felt your presence in my life during the good and the bad.
You've kinda watched my kiddos grow up on my blog, and so have I. You've watched me grow as a parent too. And sometimes when I read back over past entries and the encouraging comments you've left, I choke up. From my heart, a sincere thank you.
Anyway, I've been dealing with the full spectrum of parenting this past week.
Being the mother of a junior-high girl is, as yet, the greatest challenge I've ever encountered in my life. I recently found out - from Buffy, no less - that Beebie had broken up with Princeton. Or rather, that she had gotten one of her friends to do it for her. Ugh. Classy move, Beeb.
Now, granted, Beeb and Princeton weren't ever really "Boyfriend and Girlfriend" in the traditional sense, which was why I was perfectly ok with it. They were really just best friends. And Princeton's a great kid. Always had her back.
Turns out, another little boy named Skip told Beebie he'd had a crush on her since last year. And Beeb decided to give Skip a chance, after Skip's friend Jughead (who was "dating" Beebie's friend Elle) convinced her that Princeton was a total loser and a shitty boyfriend, and that "Skip would do anything just to see [her] smile."
Smooth, right? But get this - Jughead convinced Beebie via her Facebook page. The one we told her she wasn't allowed to have, even if she didn't use her real name, even if she only added friends that she actually knows. The one she knew GOD DAMNED WELL was absolutely forbidden.
R and I were LIVID. We deleted her profile immediately and told her to give us all of her logins and passwords to all of her online activities - IM's and email addresses and whatnot. Then yesterday, after she swore up and down that she'd told us everything she'd been using, I caught her creating a brand new email account for herself. And I have no idea what to do about it. She wants us to like her new "boyfriend", but we've told her that if he thinks it's ok for her to do things that are against the rules in this family, we're not going to like him very much.
We've taken away her cell phone for two months (the amount of time equal to how long she's had a Facebook account she knew she wasn't allowed to have), and we've put a keystroke logger program on the computer she and her brothers use. But every time we take something away, she just gets sneakier, and I don't like where this path is leading. I'm scared. Truly scared.
Beeb asked me if she and Elle could meet Skip and Jughead at the park near our house. Actually, Beeb asked if she could go to Turtle Island with Jughead. I should mention that Jughead broke up with an 8th grader to "go out with" Elle, PLUS he told Elle that he loved her, just to give you a sense of the shenanigans I'm dealing with. And I'm also using the " " on any dating terminology as it applies to 11-year-olds because the whole concept of these kids using these words is just fucking ludicrous.
Anyway, Turtle Island. I agreed to take Beeb to the park for just the few minutes before I had to be at the next place I had to be. Then Beeb informed me that Elle needed a ride to get there. Yeah, thanks for treating me like everyone's taxi. So I drove 5 minutes to get Elle, 5 minutes back, and let the two of them meet up with their little boyfriends at the park to I could check the boys out.
I saw the little island-like peninsula (really more of an ithsmus, if I wanted to get technical) in the pond that the park's path circles around. Is that Turtle Island?, I asked a kid who was there with a mom I recognized from the boys' school.
No, he said, THAT's Turtle Island. He was pointing away from the pond, toward a wooded area at the bottom of the embankment.
Where?
THERE.
I squinted and saw that there's a worn path about six inches wide, which disappears into the trees. ANYTHING could happen back in there, and probably does. It's completely hidden from view. COMPLETELY.
And would you like to know what I said to my daughter?
I said, Beeb, YOU ARE OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND IF YOU THINK I'M GOING TO LET YOU GO TO TURTLE ISLAND. OUT. OF. YOUR. FUCKING. MIND.
Yes, friends, I used those exact words and I'm not the least bit sorry. I even told my own mother that those were the words I used.
Anybody else get the vibe that these little boys are bad news? We had the talk about how boys know that you can get a girl to do anything if you tell her you love her, but Beeb insists "Skip's not like that." They're all like that, honey.
Gonna be an interesting summer. Especially since I just found out that Jughead dumped Elle today via text message. Get this - he told her she was being "Obsessive". How does an 11-year-old even know what that means?
So that's one dimension of my parenting woes. The next is the fact that Pie is now the same age that Beebie's friend Jack was when we first met him. Jack, if you're a newer reader, was Beebie's best friend in Second Grade, and he died the following summer right before Beeb's birthday.
Jack's death broke my heart and Beeb's, and that is weighing on me really, really hard. I can't imagine life without Pie, and I imagine Jack was a lot like Pie when he was Pie's age. And both Pie and Jack were born with birth defects. It makes me want to save every single scrap of paper he scrawls something hilarious on, because if something happened to Pie, I'd wish I'd saved more examples of his creative genius to remind myself - and the world - of him.
And this has been a severe struggle for me recently. That's dimension two.
And the third dimension is this: Today was Tito's Kindergarten Graduation. It was precious.
Days like this are when I'm glad I have boys. A lot of the girls were all fancied up in dresses. Fuck that. I don't dress the boys up for shit. Other boy moms apparently feel the same way. None of the boys were dressed up.
I had completely forgotten that Lubaba's mom (in the lovely pink ensemble) was going to be there. I'd like to point out that I still have never seen Lubaba in person. I think that idiot woman made Lubaba up, so people would bring twice as many presents to her son's birthday party.
But I digress. I've been a stay-home-mom since I went on bed rest two months before Pie was born. Next year I'll have no one to keep me company in the mornings. Guess I need to start looking for a jobby-job. I really don't want to.
It's not just because I love hanging out in my jammies and knitting and playing video games all day. It's because there was one little girl in Tito's class whose Mommy couldn't come to the Graduation because she had to work. She didn't want anyone to see her, but she was curled up and weeping. And my heart ached for her.
What could the teacher say? That it's important for parents to go to work too, so we can have money to buy the things we need? Even as delicately as a grown-up could say it, all a kid knows is that something else is more important to my Mommy than I am. I used to work full-time, too, when I only had Beebie, and fortunately my boss was a Mom who recognized the importance of things like this in your child's life.
Then I got an asshole of a boss after that, who was a total douche about stuff like that because she only had cats. (Not a rip on cat people, just saying she didn't have her own kid so she kinda thought that cheesy kid-related stuff was stupid.) So there are some things of Beeb's that I regret having missed.
I'm glad that I've been able to be there for the boys, and I'm loathe to put myself in a spot where I might not be able to be anymore. Of course I fast-forward in my mind to Pie on a therapist's couch explaining how he doesn't know how to give or receive love because his mother missed his 1st grade play.
Incidentally, I forgot to post a pic of it cuz we were so freakin far away from the stage, so here ya go. Pie's in the red plaid, right in the middle.
It was called E-I-E-I-Oops, about the animals on Old McDonald's Farm getting their sounds screwed up. 
I remember commenting to R, at the time, that it was like porn for the pedophile who dabbles in beastiality.
Anyway, I don't know if it was the right thing to do or not, but I told the little girl that I knew her Mommy was sad too, because it's really hard for Mommies and Daddies when they can't be there for their little girls. I know exactly what that's like.
So this week has been pretty tough on the Mommy side of PK.
Remember Pie's questionnaire about birds and whatnot? I just wanted to thank everyone who filled it out for him. His class had their Environmental Fair fundraiser this past Friday night and they ended up raising over $2000 for the World Bird Sanctuary!
Oh, and I wanted to share the answer to this question:
Didja catch that?? 350 MILLION.
Eeeeeeeeeeeew!!
Look what Buffy brought over last night! Two $50 Visa gift cards!
I think this is one of the most hysterical pictures I've ever seen. It's from my friend Cecelia's daughter's 4th birthday party. Fancy little girls, all dressed up and dainty, waiting ever-so-patiently to politely beat the crap out of the Disney Princess Pinata. Genius.
I think I was born to be a boy mom, but sometimes I do wish I had another little girl because I kinda miss shopping in the pukey pink aisle for the fun little girl toys marketed to reflect our ever-changing societal priorities. Did we even know what SPF was thirty years ago?
I hate the boy toys aisle. I hate Pokemon and all its derivatives. What the fuck's a Squirtle? It seems like only yesterday that those evil BRATZ dolls were a part of my everyday life. Can we talk about BRATZ dolls for a minute? Who came up with these posable mini sluts???
This is actually the one I find least offensive.
This one has stylish pink metallic holsters for her pistols and a handy purse for carrying her tiny NRA membership card.
This one looks like it should come with a child-sized stripper pole.
This one comes with a free Pussycat Dolls CD. Just kidding.
Should 6-year-olds REALLY be encouraged to act out a "First Date with the new boy in town" scenario with their dolls??? That shit shouldn't even be on their radar screen. I hope her mom's gonna run a background check on his ass. Do these dolls even HAVE parents who let them leave the house dressed like that?
Here's my personal favorite:
Cooterific!
Such lovely role models. Beeb went through what was, thankfully, a relatively brief BRATZ craze. Her Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen videos craze lasted far longer. And now my little girl is almost twelve.
Girl moms, once you're past Disney Princesses, Bratz and Olsen Twins movies, here's what you have to look forward to:
(For the record, I'm not particularly sporty or even remotely athletic. These were on sale, plus I had a coupon.)
Yesterday I discovered that these Playtex Sport Tampons come with Delightful Inspirational Messages printed on the individual wrappers. Like a Fuckin Fortune Cookie. 
If I'd been in charge of Project Fortune Cookie Tampons, I would have put one in there that said "Go with the flow", just to be an asshole. Still, some of them I found quite hilarious.
I'M ON YOUR TEAM? Who's supposed to be the one speaking? Is it supposed to represent the voice of the tampon itself? The TAMPON's on my team? What the fuck is that about??? Yay! It's me and my tampon, against the world! 
Ya wanna know MY new form of fearlessness? Beating the fuckin shit out of anyone who gets in my fuckin face when I'm on my fuckin period. I'm just sayin.
Did I sound like I have trouble with the fearlessness? BACK THE FUCK OFF!!
Does being doubled over in a fetal position with horrific cramps count? 
Fuck you! 
I got yer peak performance right here, muthahfuggah. You can't handle my peak performance. 
To the bathroom!
I dream of early menopause.
Is this one meant for the BRATZ doll with the pink pistols?
More tampons! Go Get 'Em.
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??? I don't know about you girls, but that's about the LAST fuckin thing on MY mind at that time of the month.
My goal is not to kill anyone today.
And if I don't reach my goal? Well, fuck it, they pissed me off. I did my best to not kill them, it just didn't work.
I always give a victory speech when I manage to get through the day without leaving flaming carnage in my wake. 
That one's almost condescending, if you think about it.
Midol, a heating pad, a bag of chips and a tube of cookie dough. What's yours?
Just don't wear white pants! 
Show 'em what I got? I got my FUCKIN PERIOD, Shitbrain! I'm trying NOT to show 'em what I got! Isn't that your job, as a tampon, to keep 'what I got' between you and me??
Am I alone in feeling these are unbelievably insulting? I'd love to have been at the pitch meeting for this shit. Can't you just see some dude in a suit with graphs and pie charts explaining to the Marketing Team that all a menstruating girl really needs is a little pep talk from her tampon to change her whole outlook on the next five to seven days? Doesn't that guy have a sister? Or a mom?
Don't ANY women work for Playtex??? Put a fuckin Snickers in the box, for fuck's sake!!
Do the Playtex people honestly think that we, as women, are so pathetically fragile that we're emotionally dependent on inanimate objects to help us summon our own inner fortitude? What's next? Toilet paper with "Girl, you're so awesome, your shit don't even stink!" printed on it? Jeezus.
I would SO have stood on top of the conference table and ripped the guy's face off with my bare hands.
My defense before the jury would be -
My tampons never loved me.
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
The Birds are Singing
and so are You
(the hard core music.)
The End. Love, Pie.
I promise you it's TRUE!
Yes, my knitting has actually appeared in a national magazine!!!
THIS magazine.
This morning at 7:10 I got a text from Buffy asking if she could drop Perfect Baby off at 7:30 instead of 7:45. In her defense, she sent the message at 6:45, but I wasn't up yet so I didn't see it until almost a half-hour later.
Sure, I said.
She was at my door at 7:20. I barely had time to put clothes on.
She then proceeded to tell me all about what a shitty week it has been for her.
She's fighting with her husband, her boss is a dick and hasn't paid her the $500 commission he owes her (which means I'm not getting paid, I'm guessing), she's so tired, blah blah blah. She added that it's probably because her Mercury is in Retrograde. Fantastic. Maybe that's my problem. I don't know where the fuck my Mercury is.
Oh, AND, are you sitting down? She told me that yesterday Perfect Baby got sent home from her day care (yes, she actually PAYS a day care to take Perfect Baby three days a week - have I mentioned this??) because the teacher suspected PB might have...
wait for it...
PINK EYE.
I about shat myself when she told me that. Cuz I don't have my own kids or anything. Fuck THAT.
Turns out PB didn't have Ojo Rosa, she just has allergies. Still, Buffy managed to leave work 2 hours early AND cough up $25 for the co-pay. Yeah. Oh, I was so fucking pissed. I maintained my composure until after Buffy left, but FUCK, I was so furious my hands were shaking, my jaw was clenched, and I was on the verge of tears, and it wasn't even 7:30 yet.
So I continued in my morning routine and tried to think of ways I could fuck with Buffy in my own delightfully passive-aggressive manner. I was gonna fuck up PB's naptime, if nothing else. Oh HELL yeah, I'm gonna mess her up so bad she'll sleep through dinner and wake up at 10pm, pissed off at the world. At the very LEAST, that kid's stupid sleep schedule's gonna be my bitch today.
And P.S. - I'm breaking the "Binky is only for naptime" edict too, Buffy. Perfect Baby can SUCK IT, for all I care. Heh.
My kids never had a regular naptime. I did what I needed to do, and they were along for the ride. And I think my Apes turned out pretty good, if I say so myself. I'm not used to planning my day so a kid can sleep. Ideally, I should be able to get shit done when she's sleeping, but I want to vacuum and do about six loads of laundry and I can't. I have to drag her with me while she's awake and crabby. I'd love to take her to the grocery store when she's finally not screaming, but when she's asleep, I am completely immobilized. I can do NOTHING.
So I decided I was going to get as much done as I possibly could - I'd push through and keep her awake as long as possible until Tito's bus came, then put her down for the rest of the day. I put gas in the Odyssexy since we got paid today, I picked up a few little things at Walgreens and got cash back so I could take Tito and PB to my favorite church for their Rummage Sale.
And here's why I believe in Karma. I got 10 skeins of Plymouth Encore Bulky, four skeins of Cascade 220, a ball of Rowan Cork, and a cone of beautiful laceweight angora - all for $17. I've never bought yarn on a cone before, so I don't even really know what I have, but it was marked 50 cents, so whatever.
Oh, and get this - my knitting has recently been featured in a national magazine! Seriously! I'll show ya.
Anyway, Buffy called later in the morning to check on PB, and very humbly apologized for having had to, in her words "lean on me" so much the last couple of weeks. Lean on me? More like kick me in the back and knock me on my face, then jump up and down on my neck till it snaps.
And I totally broke down. I wasn't mean or angry, I didn't cry, but I very calmly said that I could NOT do two full days a week again because it's not just the days that I have PB with me that can't get anything done, it's also the full day of recovery that I need to take afterwards for my mental health.
I was absolutely worthless all day yesterday, stressed out from having PB the day before and being completely unable to relax because I knew I'd have PB again the next day. Nothing sucks more than having to spend the day between two fucked-up days un-fucking up the other two.
(I suppose the opposite of fucking up is fucking down, but that didn't make any sense, so I went with un-fucking up. But I digress.)
I have the Racers coming over for a 16-hour marathon Karma family lovefest on Saturday, and Kev's also coming over Friday to take me to Crown Candy Kitchen and the Art Museum, so I wanted to have the house at least a little bit clean (cleaner than it was after PB came over on Tuesday, anyway), and I obviously wasn't going to waste my time on Wednesday cleaning when it was just going to get messed up again on Thursday... it was just really frustrating.
I was so overwhelmed by all the shit I wasn't going to be able to do (didn't want to and probably wouldn't have done anyway, but so what?), I didn't do anything all day. I actually tried to take a nap, but was interrupted by, who else? Buffy's incessant texts telling me the latest adorable thing that PB just did.
So at that point I kinda unloaded a tiny fraction of the angst I've been unloading onto you, my vast readership, onto Buffy over the phone, and said I want to help, I really do, I understand your situation and I love PB to pieces - but I just absolutely can't do this. I can't handle two full days a week. I am so drained.
She felt absolutely horrible, and of course I felt bad for her. I didn't mean to make her feel like a jerk, I just couldn't let her think it wasn't getting to me at all, because it WAS. She again mentioned that she wanted to pay me, and fully intends to, but that darn commission check hasn't come yet, and Dummy hasn't gotten paid for the work he's been doing either, so as much as she would love to show up at my house with $100 bill in hand, it just ain't gonna happen until shit comes through for them.
It's like the Trickle-Down Economics concept, only reversed. Her boss owes her money, so she owes me money, and I owe the Termite people money. And the gas company. And the phone company (our livelihood). And the homeowner's association. But I got a great deal on some good utilitarian yarn.
I know she's not maliciously using me for free child care. I know what she's dealing with. Buffy works full-time, but her husband Dummy's been laid off since February, and right now they pay for PB to go to day care 3 days a week, and to send her all 5 days would cost them an extra $100 a week (which is were the $50 figure they had offered to pay me for a full day came from).
Dummy gets called in to work different jobs sporadically and it's kinda day-to-day, so it doesn't make financial sense to send PB on days when Dummy's home. Child care is expensive. Why do you think I've been a stay-home mom for the last 8 years? Trust me - I get it.
She confessed that she was hoping I'd keep PB twice a week until school's out for the summer on the 28th. I almost burst out laughing, but instead, I told her that if my husband hadn't already had one, I'd give him a vasectomy myself on the kitchen table. I'm sure she appreciated the visual of R's fuzzy beanbag. He's a natural redhead, by the way.
It's not even about the money. Ok, it is, but I can't do it next week because I've got to take Beeb to the dermatologist on Tuesday then I've got my Mammo on Thursday. But I did tell her I could take Perfect Baby the following week. Because I truly am spineless.
And here y'all were so proud of me for telling Buffy to go fuck herself gently. (That should probably read "Telling Buffy gently to go fuck herself", but it's all good.) Blogfodder, people. I do it for you. I got nuthin but love for you bitches.
And as I'm writing this, my throat's starting to hurt. Is it wrong that I'm kinda hoping Perfect Baby's is too?
I caught you, Wal-Mart!! Preying upon the impulse buyer!!!
In the snack aisle, you will find the 7.5 oz box of Crunch N Munch for $1.00.
So last Friday morning at about 7, I was lingering in bed wondering what I'd do all day, since I really had nothing I HAD to do, other than the things I have to do every day, like dishes and laundry. I kinda like leaving my days open to the things that fall into my lap so I can avoid doing things like dishes and laundry. The fact that I have no actual plans doesn't mean I have nothing to DO. I always have a ton of shit to do. It's just a matter of motivation.
I rolled over to check my phone and saw that I'd received a text from Buffy last night after 10 asking if I could watch Perfect Baby for her today. She even offered to PAY ME this time, which was unprecedented. And about 2 minutes after I sent her a text saying "Sure, bring her over, I got nuthin goin' on today..." I got a call from Rip.
Lemme give you a little bit of backstory on Rip's situation. Rip's in the middle of one of the ickiest divorce settlements I've ever witnessed. Rip was married for twenty years to Satan's little sister.
Rip's spent the last two months trying to get his ex's name off of the house that they owned together, which she's been living in and not paying for, sticking Rip with the bill. The lease is about to be up on the house he's been renting for the last year and until The Ex gets out, he can't move in. He's got to get his shit out of where he's living now, but he's got nowhere to put it. He's got nowhere to go. Right now he's living in his camper in lot 32 at the KOA Kampground. Stop by and say hello.
Legally, she has to be out on May 24, and as incentive for her to get her ass out sooner than that, Rip offered to give her $50 for each day before May 24th that she moves out. She moves out today, she gets, like, a thousand bucks. But the money doesn't mean anything to her, she just loves the idea of him being homeless. Isn't she a peach, folks?
I hear murmurs of "Sarah, you bitter snarkmistress vengeful bitch, you know damn well you'd totally pull something heinous like that on someone who pissed you off too!!", don't I? Well, even I have a limit. I'd probably think schadenfreudenous thoughts and secretly pray for bad shit to happen to that person, but I wouldn't do anything myself directly; at least nothing that could be traced back to me...
So Rip calls and tells me that he desperately needs my help.
Ooooh! I love helping!
His landlord had told him it was ok to keep a few things in the garage of the house he was renting even though the house had been rented. However, the current occupant of the house was absolutely fucking HORRIFIED to discover that one of the things Rip had left in the garage was his son Skater's pet snake. I'd have freaked too, personally, but I'm far more sympathetic to Rip's plight.
He needed to move the snake tank out of the garage. Like NOW.
The idea of moving the snake tank was no big deal to me at this point. I had helped move it into the garage and it didn't kill me, so whatever. But I had a toddler coming over, and I also had Tito until 12:30 so I couldn't just leave to go and help. I don't want to leave a toddler unattended while I'm moving a snake.
Plus, as soon as Tito left, Perfect Baby was supposed to go down for her nap, and Buffy is a total stickler about the nap thing. The last time I had Perfect Baby over, she fell asleep and I had to wait a full two hours AFTER he was done at work for Buffy's husband to come get her because they didn't want to wake her up. I've literally had nightmares about her confronting me about my negligent disregard for Perfect Baby's nap schedule. I'm completely serious. Buffy haunts my dreams.
I wanted to help, and I could help, just not immediately.
Then Rip revealed Part Two of the favor he was asking me for - he needed to find Snakey a temporary home until Skater (whose car is broken, btw) could get around to picking it up.
I briefly pondered the importance of Personal Boundaries within the context of the limits of friendship. And then I cleared a spot in my dining room.
I can never tell Rip no.
Before you freak that I was planning to put a snake in my dining room, consider this - I wanted it as close to the front door as possible. And nobody eats in my dining room anyway, remember? I eat standing up. Like a horse. And occasionally I eat like a horse while I'm standing up. Don't judge me.
How I was going to get the snake there while babysitting was going to require some creative planning. Plus, I also had to figure out how, once I got it there, I was going to keep a curious toddler from pulling the snake tank onto the floor, cuz fuck if I'm going to actually touch a snake.
Buffy'd SHIT herself if she came to pick Perfect Baby up and found a snake in my house, but I was pretty sure her oblivious hubby would be the one to come and get her, so I wasn't too worried about his reaction.
While I was running through various possible solutions, Perfect Baby fell asleep on my bed. Fuck. Do I let her sleep, or is it gonna throw Buffy's universe out of balance?
Fuck it, I'm letting her sleep. I gotta think.
Perfect Baby woke up just a little before Buffy's husband called to let me know that the second job he had lined up today had fallen through and he was coming to get Perfect Baby earlier than originally planned. This was cool, except it meant that they probably weren't going to pay me any part of the $50 they offered me for watching her the whole day.
I'd had her for three hours instead of eight, and I've watched her for three hours for free before, so I knew they wouldn't offer me half or anything. I'd already spent the $50 in my head, but whatever, I was just glad that now I was free to help Rip out.
So after Tito got on the bus, I went over to Rip's, packed the snake in his truck and the stand for the tank in my van, gave him back the key he gave me to that house, and he followed me back to my house. Just as I got out of the Odyssexy and started unloading the stand, Rip pulled up in his truck and said he had just gotten off the phone with Skater, and he was going to go ahead and drive the snake to Skater's house in Wood River, which is about 45 minutes away.
I talked Rip into staying for lunch, since at this point I didn't have the toddler I'd planned my day around. And now, after I'd kinda psyched myself up by imagining the fun the boys would have torturing Beebie with it, I didn't have a snake to deal with either.
So the whole day had gone down NOTHING like I'd expected. And even the unexpected shit that fell into my lap had gone down NOTHING like I'd expected. It was just a completely weird day.
Bottom line, faithful readers - I absolutely LOVE the fact that, whether they have a rugrat or a reptile, my friends know they can count on me. :)
