Missing you

Today was one of those days that started out wonderfully and ended rather stressfully.

The kids and I spent the night at Paul's. After we took his kids to school, we had coffee alone on the patio while mine slept in. We made some plans to redesign his garden.  You know how much I love designing gardens. We plan to do the work together too, which I love. 

Before my dad became too sick to work we used to do a lot of home improvement projects together. For me it was my favorite bonding time with him. In so many ways he reminds me of the good parts of my dad.

After we planned the garden we went out to his ranch to meet his dad for their ritual walk. They walk the lemon rows and his dad asks him the same questions a couple times while Paul throws the ball for the excited dogs. There is a lot of comfortable silence. I know his senile father can be rather trying for him at times. I also know he will miss him terribly when he's gone. I even miss the things about my dad that drove me crazy.

After the ranch we woke up the ever sleepy teenagers and lazed around for a bit. I added a few more details to some of the dolls I'm working on. I can't take more photos till I erase a bunch first. We then took the kids to the Camarillo Library. As you know, Rahel loves books. Our library in Ojai is severely underfunded. I had heard the library was cool, but nothing had prepared me for what was in store.

It's important to know that Paul and I just came from the ranch and we looked like it. Alena has a pink mohawk and Rahel looks like a nerdy young boy with Aspergers. We were all completely in awe. Rahel was wandering around flailing his hands and taking pictures of everything. No one else was the least bit impressed. They were however, rather intrigued, or should I say concerned, about our whereabouts.

While we were enjoying the historical section, Rahel's best friend phoned with the awful news that her boyfriend had been in a car accident and was in the hospital in Los Angeles.The happy mood shifted quickly to dismal. When we left with the book Alena was eagerly clasping we were informed our library card was no longer valid.

When we picked Paul's girls up from school they were the usual—boisterous and excited. Rahel's anxiety was at a peak and the noise in the car was a bit more than he could bear after the stressful news. We rushed back to Paul's house and parted ways. We hit Trader Joe's and then the freeway home. The traffic was terrible. I managed to calm the kids down in time to get home. I had planned to vacuum and tidy the mess I had left in a frenzy the previous day before Paul arrived.

When we opened the door, arms heavy with melting groceries, something was not right. We hastily hauled the groceries to the kitchen. "Rahel, you vacuum. Alena, put away all your sculpture mess and do the dishes. What is that smell?"I was slightly worried that the old feral outside cat had in fact been in the house, like I sort of suspected, and died.

I opened the refrigerator. A vile smell hit me. The bag of raw chicken had leaked all over the refrigerator. Need I remind you I'm a total germaphobe? I began the task of dismantling and sanitizing the refrigerator, well aware that Paul would be there at any moment. Not only would he catch me covered in rotten salmonella, my worse than usual mess would be exposed.

"I'm putting this raw chicken mess in the right side of the sink, you guys. Leave it alone. Alena, just use the left side of the sink."

"Mom, the cat pooped on your grandma's rug in your room!"

"Awesome, not awesome like a hotdog. Alena, please take the bathroom trash out."

"I can't, there's water all over the floor."

"Then wipe it up."

"I can't, it's dripping everywhere!"

After grumping at her, I realized the bucket which catches the water that drains out the broken pipe, had overflowed and flooded the bathroom. I guess the faucet is leaking. We use the collected sink water to flush the toilet, that way we can feel more "green" than "broke-ass-poor." Since I collect all the shower water to water the yard, I don't have to feel hypocritical in this fantasy.

I hauled all the water out while Alena took out the trash. I put a plastic bag over my hand, scooped the cat poop off grandma's rug, and carried the rug outside where I saw Paul pulling up.

I ran back inside, quickly sprayed bleach on the floor, and opened some windows.

"Hi girls, hi baby. I'm sorry, come in. You wouldn't believe what—

"Mom, the cat peed on my bed. What do I do?"

At this point, Paul looked a bit concerned.

"Just hold on, Alena, let me finish sanitizing the chicken mess."

Paul brought the kids in among the vacuum cords and chaos.

"Mom, what do I do?"

"Just hold the heck on, Alena. I'm freaking out right now, one thing at a time."

Alena kept persisting till I dropped the sponge and followed her into the messy room. She had pulled everything off her bed and thrown it in the laundry room.

"Why did you DO this? I said hold ON! Now it's all over the other laundry and I can't tell what's been peed on."

She began crying, but I didn't take the queue to calm down.

I felt like I was covered in germs and now the smell was everywhere. The cats would now pee in the laundry room too because they pee where it smells like pee, right?!?

At that moment I spotted the feral cat -- she had snuck in the house the day before. "Get out, you little beast!"I threw the cat out angrily. Paul's kids were now looking at me like I was the cruel beast. The poor kitty.

Alena kept nagging until I lost my temper and yelled at her, including the F word. I sent her crying outside. I felt like a total jerk. I went back to putting loads in the laundry with vinegar, scrubbing her mattress and sanitizing the chicken mess. I carried the foam pad out through the living room where Paul and his kids were looking at me like the cat-throwing, cussing, poop-chicken-and-piss-scrubbing monster that I was. I put the pad on the lawn where I almost stepped in Paul's dog's poop. I went inside and got a bag to pick it up. I swear Murphy is mocking me, because there turned out to be a hole in the bag and it got all over my fingers.

At this point I saw my very kind, very conscientious, very clean and tidy neighbor and I hysterically spilled the gory details of the last 20 minutes episode. 

I apologized to Alena three times, hugged her in shame, sprayed out the foam pad with the hose, and called it quits till dinner time.

I know my overly honest descriptions of yucky things always grosses you out, so why am I telling you all this grossness? I guess I partly needed to confess what a failure I felt like after yelling at Alena.

I also feel like so often we mothers only share the moments we're proud of. I wasn't proud of myself today. Everyone forgave me, I forgave myself even.

I'm laying in bed drinking a beer, listening to that cat yowl a terrible howling meow. My house still smells like pee. I have to work my tail off at the pub in the morning. I guess my point is shit happens! In case you ever feel like you are not quite holding things together, you can remember this one and hopefully laugh.

On the bright side, I paid my property taxes on time today, I have lots of creative ideas for my new book, Paul still loves me, and Alena has to sleep with me tonight.

I love and miss you,

Country Mouse