Is it funny yet?

I had one of those Mondays this week that completely erased any fond memories of the weekend that had just been. In the midst of it I thought, "Well, maybe there is a something here that I could turn into a humorous blog entry!" Then I thought, "No...too soon." Well now that I have caught up on some sleep, successfully put out some other small fires, and made it to another Friday...I am ready to share.

Sunday 8:45 p.m. - Things started going astray when one of our dogs was trailing blood from an undisclosed location. (Reason #512 I will never understand who I thought was going to be living in this house when I chose a light berber carpet.) Further investigation showed nothing that couldn't wait until morning, or in other words, he didn't soak a towel in 45 minutes (I am not a vet, nor do I play one in my blog).

10:00 p.m. - I decide to be proactive, and go to bed early incase I am awakened for any reason that night.

Monday 2:00 a.m. - A visit from my daughter (I say "my" because I was the only parent she was concerning herself with at that moment.) with a tummy ache. We chatted in the bathroom for a bit reminiscing about the hot sausage calzone that was overloaded with cheese that I had fed her for dinner. After such rousing conversation we tried to settle ourselves into bed...my half of the bed...where we laid awake until around 4:00. We pretended we were comfortable most of the time, but she did express her concern at one point that "It looks like Daddy has a lot of room over there." Yes, and he was also sleeping too soundly to concern himself with our situation and resulting real estate complaints.

5:00 a.m. - A visit from my son with a headache. He looked perplexed by the sleeping arrangement as he watched me try to catapult myself out of the middle of the bed without disturbing anyone. I crept downstairs to get his him some medicine, careful not to wake the beasts in their crate (I was not prepared to look THAT situation in the eye, or anywhere else). I offered to hold the wet washcloth on his forehead for a little while, if for no other reason than to have a place to hang out...certain that my spot in my own bed had been absorbed. At 5:30 I realized I should be near an alarm clock, so I crawled across the bottom of my bed to sleep.

6:30 a.m. - I took a shower, fed and walked the dogs without any incident (but Fozzie dog did seem pretty uncomfortable)

7:00 a.m. - Son comes downstairs all set and ready for school! (Things are looking up!)

7:15 a.m. - Daughter comes down ready to go. I mentioned she could go back to sleep for a bit...nope, but within 5 minutes she was crying over breakfast at the thought of missing school.

7:40 a.m. - I left (as there was nothing here to do--she said she was just tired..."OK, so rest for 90 minutes") took son to school and went to work--got there at 8:20.

8:40 a.m. - I got the call that our daughter would not be going to school because she was tired, so I left to come home (as my husband could only stay homeuntil 9:00).

9:50 a.m. - Vet appointment. I will spare you the details incase you grabbed a quick snack before hopping on the computer, but will say they involve nasty words like "shaved", "gland" and "ruptured". Usually dogs let you know long before the situation gets this bad. I can't imagine why the vet would think I was neglectful: I took a break from their heartworm meds for the winter, Foz desperately needed a bath, haircut and to have his nails clipped. The vet said he didn't want me to get bit, but I could try putting a warm washcloth on Foz's issue...thanks, but I can think of even more reasons that doesn't interest me!

10:30 a.m. - Arrived back home and I do believe Fozzie's look here pretty much sums up how the three of us felt...

The phone only rang 3 times while we were trying to nap that afternoon.

At 2:30 Tuesday morning, my daughter came to visit with a few tears in her eyes because, she was worried she MIGHT get a belly ache. I decided the best approach would not be to jump up and down on my bed screaming what I was afraid I MIGHT do. I tucked her back into her own bed and turned some music on for her. I went back to my own bed, where I couldn't sleep, and read for an hour because, well, because I was afraid she might bet a belly ache, I guess!

Times like this don't really make me laugh out loud right away, but they do make me smile. These are some of the times that most clearly define who I have become over the last 12.75 years...a mommy...warts (more like bags under my eyes) and all! It's like those children on the playground who so proudly display their band-aids and tell the tales of where each boo-boo came from. For every story each of my gray hairs has to tell, I have a laugh line that can tell a better one!