Seriously. You have no idea...
I've been doing the single mom act all week because the hubby has been in Chicago attending a conference. I really don't care for the single parent act. I don't know how people who have no choice but to be a single parent do it. I think we should award each and every one an award for heroism. Because seriously, it's a lot of work. It's exhausting. It's time-consuming. It's difficult. And that's just scratching the surface.
The boys had five games between the two of them this week. My Monday, Wednesday and Thursday evenings were consumed by cleats, baseball bats, gloves, and rushed dinners. Last night was made even more exciting by having to have my oldest son to the field 45 minutes early for pictures.
None of this would have been so bad if I wouldn't have had offered to make a scrapbook for my co-worker's daughter. She just graduated from High School and the Open House is this weekend. Of course, I didn't have all the pictures I needed until Wednesday, so I'm terribly behind. Even after recruiting my sister's help (the single mom with 3 kids), I still have 8 blank pages I need to complete. I wonder if I'll be able to pull the book together before 1:00 tomorrow?
Of course, because I've been running here and there and working on the scrapbook project, my house is a wreck. I have four or five laundry baskets full of clean clothes in need of folding. The dishes need to be done. The bathrooms are disgusting. The floors are a wreck.
To top all of this off, my dog is missing. I let her out yesterday morning to go potty and forgot to put her back in the house before leaving for work. I walked in the house last night and knew something was wrong. She's always at the door to greet us. I must admit my first thought wasn't that she had ran away. She's old and I feared the worst. I called her name, checked each room in the house (expecting to find she had passed away in her sleep), but found only the mess we had left from the night before. Relieved but worried now for an entirely different reason, I went outside and started calling for her. Normally she stays really close to the house but yesterday there was a thunderstorm and she totally freaks out in bad weather. You would think she'd curl up somewhere close to the house but...no. The last time something similiar happened it took three days for her to find her way back to us. If she's outside and we're not home to let her in the house, she runs. And runs. And runs.
Of course, the boys started to get upset. They started going out toward the woods, calling for her at the top of their little lungs. Nothing. She didn't suddenly dart out of the woods, tail wagging and covered in mud (I know this is how she will turn up...she always turns up muddy).
Try getting your kids ready for pictures and games when they're dog is missing. It's not easy and it's not pretty, but eventually I prevailed and we left. I really thought she might have heard us and we'd find her waiting for us on the porch when we got home. No such luck. So I put a blanket on the front porch, hoping scent would draw her home when our voices hadn't.
It's been 24 hours now and she's still not shown her little face. Convincing the kids she's okay and will turn back up is getting progressively more difficult because I'm starting to wonder myself.
On a happier note, the hubby comes home tonight. We're supposed to pick him up from the train station after work. Maybe the dog will coming running when he starts calling for her. After all, she does think he's the best thing since puppy chow.
I've been doing the single mom act all week because the hubby has been in Chicago attending a conference. I really don't care for the single parent act. I don't know how people who have no choice but to be a single parent do it. I think we should award each and every one an award for heroism. Because seriously, it's a lot of work. It's exhausting. It's time-consuming. It's difficult. And that's just scratching the surface.
The boys had five games between the two of them this week. My Monday, Wednesday and Thursday evenings were consumed by cleats, baseball bats, gloves, and rushed dinners. Last night was made even more exciting by having to have my oldest son to the field 45 minutes early for pictures.
None of this would have been so bad if I wouldn't have had offered to make a scrapbook for my co-worker's daughter. She just graduated from High School and the Open House is this weekend. Of course, I didn't have all the pictures I needed until Wednesday, so I'm terribly behind. Even after recruiting my sister's help (the single mom with 3 kids), I still have 8 blank pages I need to complete. I wonder if I'll be able to pull the book together before 1:00 tomorrow?
Of course, because I've been running here and there and working on the scrapbook project, my house is a wreck. I have four or five laundry baskets full of clean clothes in need of folding. The dishes need to be done. The bathrooms are disgusting. The floors are a wreck.
To top all of this off, my dog is missing. I let her out yesterday morning to go potty and forgot to put her back in the house before leaving for work. I walked in the house last night and knew something was wrong. She's always at the door to greet us. I must admit my first thought wasn't that she had ran away. She's old and I feared the worst. I called her name, checked each room in the house (expecting to find she had passed away in her sleep), but found only the mess we had left from the night before. Relieved but worried now for an entirely different reason, I went outside and started calling for her. Normally she stays really close to the house but yesterday there was a thunderstorm and she totally freaks out in bad weather. You would think she'd curl up somewhere close to the house but...no. The last time something similiar happened it took three days for her to find her way back to us. If she's outside and we're not home to let her in the house, she runs. And runs. And runs.
Of course, the boys started to get upset. They started going out toward the woods, calling for her at the top of their little lungs. Nothing. She didn't suddenly dart out of the woods, tail wagging and covered in mud (I know this is how she will turn up...she always turns up muddy).
Try getting your kids ready for pictures and games when they're dog is missing. It's not easy and it's not pretty, but eventually I prevailed and we left. I really thought she might have heard us and we'd find her waiting for us on the porch when we got home. No such luck. So I put a blanket on the front porch, hoping scent would draw her home when our voices hadn't.
It's been 24 hours now and she's still not shown her little face. Convincing the kids she's okay and will turn back up is getting progressively more difficult because I'm starting to wonder myself.
On a happier note, the hubby comes home tonight. We're supposed to pick him up from the train station after work. Maybe the dog will coming running when he starts calling for her. After all, she does think he's the best thing since puppy chow.
Thank you for your comments on single parents - it is greatly appreciated. Also, thank you for your kind words on my blog.
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