Wednesday, October 01, 2008

A week to make me weak.

Last week was one of those weeks that happened and now I'm looking back wondering WHY? How? What THE?!!


First, I hung out the laundry, ran around town picking up kids and when I got home after dark I was too tired to get the dumb laundry off the line. In the wee hours of the morning I heard the boom of thunder. I laid in my warm dry bed saying to myself, "You are an idiot, of course it will rain if you leave the laundry out on the line. Stupid, stupid, stupid woman!" It rained all morning and those clothes hung out there through it. I guess you could say they got an extra rinse cycle.

Friday, my older kids had the day off of school. I was trying to make them clean the house. Why do moms always make the kids clean the house when they have a day off from school? It's so mean and hateful. My mom ALWAYS made us clean on Saturdays, I hated that and now I do it to my kids. Muhahahaah, muhahahahah, MUAHAHAHAHA!

But, then they pay me back ten fold. While I was in the bathroom, um, you know, uh, doing stuff I heard some commotion. As usual I ignored it thinking my boys are rough housing or fighting over a toy or whatever. I wasn't going to deal with it right then, because, you know, I was kinda busy going er, I mean, doing stuff.

As I exited the commode I heard the sound a mom hates to hear from her kids, the sound that makes my armpits prickle and causes wrinkles and gray hairs to spring forth from my skin like popcorn in hot oil. The sound of my kids panicking.

"What happened?!" I yelled. From upstairs Ellen tells me Seth is hurt. Naturally, I think he's upstairs so I start to run towards the stairs, but I'm informed that he's cut and it happened in the school room so I'm doing a little dance between the stairs and the school room trying to find him and finally I holler, "Where is HE?!"

"Mom, I'm right here."

Seth was crouched in a heap holding his hand on the rug right behind me and I hadn't even noticed him.

To sum it up, he was chasing his brother (instead of cleaning I might add) and his little brother slammed the glass french doors behind him right as Seth was reaching to grab him causing Seth's hand to shatter one of the panes. An hour and four stitches later we were back home and the house was no cleaner.
My other three children's reactions were to panic, cry and hide. Ellen can not stand to see her brother's badly hurt she just can't handle it. Although after I told her he was going to be fine, but we needed to go get stitches she was very sweet offering to come with him for moral support. I made her stay home with the littles who were both hiding one with his head buried in the couch and the other on his bed. The poor girl had to console the inconsolable and clean up the shattered glass. Did I mention she had a friend over too? I live in a house full of crazy.



Then there was another Standing game. But I found a way to make the time go quicker.
Volunteer. Yep, first I covered for admissions until the guy that was signed up to do it got there.
And then I spent the rest of the game in this little trailer running concessions. Oh, and at some point I had to run my two littles to a birthday party. So, it really was a painless experience but the setting up of that concession stand and cleaning up is no small task. My dad, the vending man, would be very proud of how I straightened all the chips bags and then stored the candy bars in the fridge to keep them from melting.

Here's what I've learned about parents with kids in sports; If there are say 20 kids on a team, approximately 3 parents will volunteer to help do all the crap that needs to be done. So, I will always have something to do at a game and have no fear that I'll ever need to sit in the bleachers to cheer on my stander. And to those other 17 parents I would like to say two things 1. Thank you for letting me serve you a hot dog and pretzel and 2. If you ever complain about anything I will smack you in the face with a bowl of slimy nacho cheese.

21 comments:

melissa said...

Ouch! Amazing what happens when your in the crapper. That almost rymes!
I hate standing around at soccer so I always help where I'm needed. It's less boring. I tried bringing a smut book to read but other parents would shake their heads in disgust at the cover. Then I tried to stay in the van and give a thumbs up when ever she looked my way but that didn't work out really well either.

stephaniegbrown said...

I understand April, I really, really do. I am the one that volunteers for things and gets stuck with everything else that nobody will volunteer for....or the best part....the things that don't get done because the VOLUNTEER DIDN'T SHOW UP! Aaaah! But... I do these things because my kids need to play sports. Period....End of story.

Apparently your story, too.

Beth said...

Glad Seth is ok. And your daughter, too.

As for your comments to the other parents...AMEN!

Joy said...

I hear ya. Glad you're son's hand ended up okay.

I live in a house of crazy, too. That's now how I want it to be - just how it is.

Been lurking and now speaking. :)

Julie said...

I'm glad it's not just the town I live in where 3 parents do the work while the others stand around and complain about how hard they work. It's good to know it's elsewhere too.
My mom also made us clean on Saturdays and I often tell my students how lucky they are that they didn't have my mom. We didn't have Saturday sports when I grew up, it was piano lessons and cleaning on Saturdays for us.

Lori Radcliffe said...

Sounds like you've been busy! I hope the stitches don't affect his ability to stand at the games. And I'm glad you found something to do. I've been known to take a nap in the car...when the weather is cooler.

Anonymous said...

Man does this bring back memories. I volunteered at all of my kids' events. For me it was gymnastics and Boy Scouts. Have you ever watched about 50 girls all do the same routine? Being a volunteer makes the time go much quicker! Boy Scouts actually taught me a lot. I can say that I've backpacked 50 milers several times and learned to love it.

Far Side of Fifty said...

No rest not even for potty time, you may have to line them all up outside the door from now on:)

iloveupstate.com said...

Ouch! My nephew accidently put his hand through one of my pains of glass last year. I was so panic'd that I insisted he should NOT walk - and I carried him to the car and into the emerg-care center. I am a dork. My back was killing me the next day. He got some stitches and $20 from his Dad.

Bridge said...

It's always just a few people who do all of the work! I think we get more satisfaction out of it though - the others are missing out!

Rhea said...

Man, oh, man, what a weak! Stiches and slimy nacho cheese. It takes a strong stomach to do what you do. :o)

Jenni said...

Ouch! I'm glad Seth's okay.

I'm one of those volunteer parents. I would rather do ALL the work than have to sit there and figure out what the heck is going on on the field. Don't give me a job that has anything to do with the sport, either. I want cleanup or food or taking money or something I know. I absolutely agree with your last two statements, too. I won't complain about the others not helping if they just shut their mouths and at least pretend to be thankful that I'm doing all the volunteering while they sit there chatting and getting bleacher butt.

ladyfi said...

LOL! Not funny for you - but oh so funny in the re-telling!

Alisa said...

Yikes. Hope his hand heals quickly. I will now use this as a lesson to my boy and his friends. Their game all day yesterday was to chase eachother around my house and slam doors in eachother's faces. Thanks for the life lesson. Hope your door heals quickly. I too get suckered into volunteering and then miss the one time my boy scores a goal, out of 6 trillion years of playing soccer.

Anonymous said...

Amen on the 17 parents who don't help with any of the other activities besides the actual sport. I do love, however, how they love to coach from the bleachers, but don't volunteer to bring it to the fields. Anywho, two of my rats have played softball and baseball for the past 4 years and I always offer to help where I can. For those parents/guardians who are very capable of helping, but don't, I have a bowl of nacho cheese for your face too! And if you complain I might spit in it next time!

cndymkr / jean said...

I still have nightmares about Saturday mornings. My mom was a witch! Even she admits it (now).

Those same three parents must live in my town too.

And if you could please just use the commode only at night, after the kids are asleep, I think that would help. I'm always here to offer helpful suggestions.

zgirl said...

Why is it that these kinds of things only happen when I'm in the shower in full shampoo or in the bathroom, you know, doing...stuff?

SheSue said...

The injury reminds me of when my daughter fell and hit her chin on a large car part in the garage while roller blading. My came running in the house, his eyes as huge as saucers, to tell me his sister was "Hurt real bad!" Nothing like that to shake you to the core.

Swede at Heart said...

As there is good likelihood some of ours will end up playing standing games together, I have been well and duly warned about the nacho cheese.

Coffee Bean said...

He He!!! Two of my three are out of the house so I can look back on those days and laugh a little at those like you who are still in the thick of it! Amazingly, my 16 year old son hasn't had to go to the emergency room in nearly a year now. That's some kind of record round here!

Kitty Bo said...

When my now 25 year old son was 3, he came sliding down the old bannister on Thanksgiving day, falling off and crashing into a potted plant, requiring a holiday dash to an emergency clinic in a near by town. The doctor reminded my husband and I of Jimmy Stuart. Dr. Jimmy Stuart was so impressed by my son's 3 year old bravery, that he gave us a discount. Then there was the time when he was about 10, and his older brother hit him in the head with a block of wood in the barn because he wouldn't go look for eggs in the hay. I warn you that one thing I learned from that is that head wounds bleed a lot even if they aren't serious.