Rollerblading while under the influence of alcohol is officially the most idiotic thing I’ve ever done.
I was basically abused by the pavement – and let’s just leave it at that. My lack of grace, skill, and balance basically says it all. It took me three days to get around to writing this, since I was unable to type with my left hand. Whoops!!
Daddy came home Wednesday and, after the boys being on their best behavior for the first day, has gotten himself basically bitch-slapped by the reality of life with the Monsters again. I’m so used to the screaming, the fighting, the constant back and forth, I forget how insane it really is. They make me crazy and I’m with them 24/7 – I can’t imagine how high Daddy’s blood pressure must be after being thrust back into the Monster’s den!
There have been two poopcasso incidents – one that had me scrubbing inch after inch of Mason’s room with one hand. That of course, was after Daddy walked in on the mess and I found him standing in the hallway with a look of utter horror mixed with absolute confusion on his face. After a few “I don’t know where to start!” exclamations I sent him off to bathe the mini-monster while I put on my Poopcasso face and went to work. I swear, the kid’s room is going to have a faint odor indefinitely, no matter how much we scrub.
In hindsight, this incident is what preceded our less than brilliant actions later in the evening. Daddy decided he wanted to rollerblade to the bar in the neighborhood. We called a sitter for the boys, and off we went. Well, off he went. I went down. A lot. And it was in no way graceful. At one point I think Daddy was legitimately considering going back to the house to get me Kaleb’s bike helmet. A few days earlier I had finally gotten a new phone, and my genius self had placed my shiny new device in my right back pocket. The first time I fell, Daddy said my pinwheeling before I went down was something frightening to witness. Most of my weight hit my left knee – successfully ripping a hole in one of my only good pairs of jeans. After that, each tumble landed me either on my left knee, hip, or hand – because even in such a precarious situation one has to protect her phone.
While you sit there laughing at my clumsy and disturbing adventure there is something you should know. Daddy got me rollerblades for Christmas. This was primarily because usually while he uses his rollerblades I would ride my bike and he wanted me to blade with him. Well that’s all great and dandy – I loved rollerblading as a kid. I repeat, as a kid. It had been 12 years since I’d been on rollerblades, and my fearless and effortless ability vanished when I realized that I was not invincible – at all. Save for the day we got them, I have never been on them without something to hold on to. The buggy I got a couple of years ago for the kids to sit in while I ride my bike came with an extra wheel so we could detach it from the bike and push it. I’ve been pushing the kids around in the buggy while wearing rollerblades consistently for six months. With their weight in front of me keeping it steady, I’ve never had a problem staying on my feet.
Obviously, I have learned I did not earn my confidence on wheels the way I thought I had. At one point that night I was going down, and I knew I’d be going down hard, and without thinking I grabbed for Daddy to steady me – successfully bringing him down with me. Of course, he was wearing shorts, so he got a bit cut up. That was pretty much the end of that. Well, kind of. We took a trip through the neighborhood cemetery on the way back to the house (yes, there is a cemetery in the neighborhood, and yes, I’m odd enough to have really wanted a look at it). At some point during this little detour my phone fell out of my pocket. We were already halfway home before I realized this. I had just taken Daddy down with me, and when I went to check and make sure the phone was good, I discovered it wasn’t there.
This was a big problem. Daddy told me to sit where I was and he would go find it – and off he went. After waiting for what felt like forever, I felt really guilty and attempted to go after him to help. Thus falling twice more, the second time hard enough to jolt my wrist pretty badly. Defeated, I took my rollerblades off and started to limp back toward him. About two minutes later he came back around the corner, phone in hand. He took one look at me and started laughing.
I’m pretty sure he’s still laughing.
Anyway, I’ve learned my lesson. And even though I basically wrecked my left side for a few days, it was worth it. Because by the time the Monsters are done with him, Daddy’s going to need that memory of me bedraggled and bruised to laugh at in order to ward off the men in little white coats.
There have been positives and negatives to Kaleb being home full time. On the plus side, Mason will actually work with Kaleb, so his language is really starting to blossom. On the down side, not all the language he is picking up is good. “I said NO!” tends to be a favorite amongst them both. Or, depending on what it is they want “I said YES!”
Then of course is the constant battling between them. Mason refuses to keep the door to the porch closed. Kaleb closes it. Mason screams. Mason opens it, Kaleb screams. The vein in Daddy’s forehead begins to throb visibly.
The living room is clean. The living room is trashed. Mason lines up his cars, Kaleb demolishes them. Kaleb builds something. Mason makes attempts to reach, eat, grab, kick, touch, knock over, or take it. Kaleb screams. Mason laughs. Kaleb screams louder. Mason laughs louder. Kaleb screams at the top of his lungs and lunges for Mason. Mason screams. I’m pretty sure that vein in Daddy’s forehead has its own pulse now.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are a constant battle. The dog is getting fat from Mason throwing him food, my ears are going to bleed, from Kaleb screaming over one particular issue or another – not enough ranch, asparagus is too mushy, etcetera and so on.
Poor Daddy left one war zone for another.
But boy am I happy to have someone here to join me in combat!