Week in Review – Saturday Edition

“I want moobs!” was what Indigo yelled at Wipe Out the other night.
DJ had lost the ability to speak she was laughing so hard.
“I mean, I want the guy with moobs to WIN. That’s what I meant!”
It didn’t matter what she meant.
When your almost 8 year old declares she wants moobs, it’s all over.

Speaking of moobs, DJ declared the other day that her “girls” were not girls but “darlings” – spoken like “dah-lings”. Yeah, she’s never living this down.

In four days this week, I worked 36 hours. And about 30 of those hours were sitting in a meeting with the fuck-head executive. Those are hours I will never get back.

Have you ever heard the story about the blind men and the elephant? There is an elephant in a room with blind men. The men each use their hands to determine what is in the room with them. One feels the trunk and declares the thing in the room with them is a tree branch. Another feels the tail and declares it is rope. Another feels the leg and declares it to be a pillar. Each has a different perspective of the elephant because they only have their part. That was exactly what happened after my two-day meeting. Each person in that room heard only the piece that interested them. The day after was trying to explain to them that they did indeed see an elephant.  Thursday was a long LONG day of setting expectation.

Reminds me of a quote I read recently “Expectation is the root of all heartache” by Shakespeare. Yep.  Their poor expectations gives me heartache. Very true.

I came home from work on Thursday to the living room destroyed by the kids. Walking into chaos drives me nuts. Clearly the girls had some screen time given what I found in front of the TV. I called them both inside the house and started making them clean up their mess.  Our yellow lab is doing is summer molt which means he’s leaving huge amounts of fur all over the place.  I grabbed a broom to sweep it up, when under the TV cabinet I find it: the dehydrated mouse.

My calico is the mouser of the two cats. She catches mice all of the time – inside and out. The problem? She likes to play with the carcass.  I think she hopes they will spring back to life and become the great toy they were when they were alive, so she carries them around and bats at them hoping the dead mouse will come back to life.  Usually when she gets bored, she leaves it someplace where we quickly find it. Normally in the middle of the room in a path we walk.  This time, she left it under the cabinet.  The girls had some of their “crafts” over it, so when I pulled out this dead mouse and pointed out that they had sat in front of the TV all morning with their friend, the dead mouse – they both were a bit grossed out by it. But, that living room was cleaned up quickly as they hoped I would not find another one.

Our friends leave this weekend for their next great adventure – teaching in Egypt.  I have to admire them for doing it. Several years back, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Imagine going in for your first mammogram and getting called saying you need to see a doctor because they found something. And they found out a few months after she miscarried too. So, in the span of six months, she was diagnosed with cancer, lost the ability to have children, and went through chemo and radiation. Oh, and radiation burns on the nipples are not fun, or so she told me.  After being declared “no evidence of disease”, she trained and walked her first marathon. Then she went back to school to get her master’s degree in teaching.  Then they decided to sell everything and teach overseas. They got an offer almost immediately.  Her husband, a classmate of ours from college, has lived overseas before, and he is beyond excited to go back with the wife. We’re excited for them too.  Sad we are going to miss our friends – but excited for them and their new adventure.  Truly two people who saw how short life could be – and are seizing the moment.

Speaking of seizing the moment, G is gone all weekend. He is on a rafting trip….with a minister and his church group.  The guy is a parent of a student. One thing you may or may not know about G is that he is a Buddhist.  He had to buy a bible for this trip as there will be nightly studies. This should be entertaining because G is great at interjecting statements like “you know, Jesus would have made a great Buddhist.”  This should be interesting.

My week did end on a high note.  It’s funny how a short conversation with a friend can be the salve you need.  Friday morning, I had a short conversation with him. For me, I have been having a difficult time articulating why everything is bugging me – why change is bugging me. And that has even bugged me.  He got it. He understood. He didn’t think I was being weird. He thought it made perfect sense as it was how he would feel too.  When he shared his own thoughts, they were in a way no one had before. No smoke and mirrors. Not overly blunt. Just sincere and honest.  This is why I call him my friend.  While we may scare each other at times – especially times when we realize we are scary alike in our thinking, it is that commonality that helps where no one else can.  And because I know he’s reading this, I just need to say (because I don’t think I made it clear enough yesterday) “thank you, sexy. And I love you.  I hope you know how much I appreciate you.”

Just so I don’t leave you with too much sap, I leave you with the comic of what would have happened if G and I visited the God Protecting Children:

click to make big.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. Sounds like a hectic week.
    Glad you had a friend to talk it through with though.

    Our dog is doing the same, little tufts of white hair everywhere.

    Hope you have a great weekend.

  2. Vixen says:

    Your week….the elephant story/comparison… *groan*

    I am def LOL at the ‘moob’ and ‘dah-ling’ reference though. Hahaha!

    I hope you are able to enjoy your wkend!

  3. Love the comic and the kids, I would love to meet them one day.

    And I wish there was a little video camera for Garbanzo this weekend so all of his converations could be recorded.

Leave a Reply to VixenCancel reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.