Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Wish You Were Here, I'm a Wounded Satellite

I'm on day three of being a travel widow and phsaw, this sucks ass.

On Monday, in route to going to my chiropractor (a 40-minute drive without construction and holy shit, was there ever an ass-load of construction that day) Darwin decided it was a perfect time to get motion sickness and spew all over the van one mile away from our exit.

Of course I had no towels, no clean clothes. Hell, I didn't even have a clean diaper.

I'm awesome like that.

So I pull into the driveway of the local crunchy grocery store and strip him down to his underpants and shoes (both were luckily spared). I took him in the store, wiped him down and bought lollipops and and paper towels.

Again with the awesomeness.

Then we went to the chiropractor. Dude, my back was killing me. I wasn't about to go through all that shit to not still go the chiropractor. Have some priorities people.

Then we got home and I got the lovely pleasure of cleaning out the van.


Nothing says Hi! Welcome to my home! quite like a porch that needs to be sweeped and clothes covered in vomit. Two days later and they are still there.

Awesome, awesome, awesome.

Yesterday was another crazy day with a three-hour play date (three! hour! play! date!) and an insane trip to Whole Foods, where I spent more time standing in line than getting food.

Last night after dinner I played video games with the children.

Griffin and I have reached a new level of our relationship from the video games. We've both learned how to calm the fuck down because we both can't get the all the points. There's some give and take, you get that diamond, I'll get the banana. You know, it's not like we're going to compete in the International Bubble Bobble World Series here.

So, anyway, we are playing. Every thing's fine. Griffin get stuck, no big deal, it's common: you get stuck a lot. So I get all the bad guys so we're getting ready to move to the next level. A big cake comes floating down the screen. Griffin goes ape shit.

One minute, he's sitting here - a normal boy, playing video games, having fun. The next minute, he's throwing a shit fit, screaming, trashing around the room, turning into a puddle of tears.

Never mind the fact that he was stuck. Never mind the fact the cake was motherfuckin' mine (I killed the bad guys! The cake was TOTALLY MINE). But the fact that I got the Big Awesome Cake and he didn't sends Griffin so far over the edge that I wished I had a children's straight jacket laying around.

I'm sure there's a point somewhere in here. Some infinite level of Life Wisdom. But I forgot what it was. You know, other than the fact of being a travel widow sucks ass.

25 comments:

nuttnbunny said...

totally. sucks. ass.

at least you got the consolation cake :-)

Heidijayhawk said...

i'm a travel widow on a pretty regular basis and it does suck ass and it never gets easier. i swear a day in your life sounds about like mine. i swear my kids are mentally unstable psychopaths some days. who raises these kids anyhow? damn. they are pretty normal today i suppose.

Stacy said...

thanks very much for that lovely morning giggle at your expense.....

Chickenbells said...

Oh man...nothing like needing help and then realizing you have it...somewhere, just not with you in the moment-and you just KNOW he'd love to be there on the porch, waiting for his family to arrive safely home...holding the hose...Hang in there, and I think you should just bake a cake and share it with the boy! (damned video game/family time)

PamKittyMorning said...

Awww. I'm so sorry. I remember those travel days.

oilclothjunkie said...

-laughing-
that sounds like my night last night but without the cake.

Marsha said...

I once read an article in a stupid fucked up parenting magazine back when Mandy was little. The article says that the reason boys do better than girls in the workplace is because parents don't let boys win at games when they are little, and they do let the girls win at games. The result is that little boys grow up to be able to take a hit while little girls grow up not being able to handle failure of any kind. I tried for years to beat Mandy at board games and such, I don't think I ever have. Still it is a good lesson, that has to be learned, probably best to be learned in some sport when you are not present. -My Lily pukes all the time, yet I am still never prepared for it. Your flea story was divine, I laughed my ass off at your expense.

Dawn said...

I pride myself in being the puke cleaner around here... I'd like to believe it's from the three years I worked in a kennel - cleaned up a lot of that and much worse some days. ;)~

Sorry about how the shit always hits the fan when your guy leaves town. I hope it gets better.

Mirre said...

Wow, that was some day!
(I hope your husband is reading this as well... he'd better bring back a good gift for you!)

Renee said...

Sorry about the vomit. I enjoyed the vomit porch picture though. Made me feel not so alone in my front door of nastiness.

kristi said...

That really sucks! My husband is home this week, but somehow not being very helpful in the management of these batshit-crazy children of ours. There must be something in the air...

monica said...

I'm a travel widow and yes it sucks big time. Especially when the afore mentioned missing husband is sitting in MY favourite restaurant in London enterteining giggling clients. I hate gigglint clients. I want a strawberry martini. I DESERVE it.

And I LOVE BOBBLE BUBBLE!!!!! IT'S MY ULTIMATE GAME... and me and my sister came to many a row over it. So that's normal.

Emy said...

I'm a travel widow right now as well. What's working for me is having absolutely no agendas, no goals, and being really laid back. So what if he doesn't want to eat? Who cares? We're both happier with my new (lazy, exhausted) attitude.
Hope your time passes quickly.

Ali said...

I'd leave the porch as a little welcome home tribute for Daddy! Better than baking a cake, because I wouldn't mention THAT word in your house for a good few days!

TinkerBlue said...

Only you could post a photo of a porch covered in vomit covered clothes and make us all laugh.

At least you got cake!

Sending you pixie dust, or anything that help for the rest of the travel widow week.

estea said...

your utter and complete AWESOMENESS knows no bounds.

wish I could be around next week and we could play while the man is away.

but alas, the beach and 'ritas call me hither with their siren song...


:)

had so much fun today! i love having a buddy at the pool. otherwise it gets boring just yelling at J by myself :)

amy h said...

Aw, that sucks! I hope your back at least feels a little better now.

Angelina said...

Yeah, we could totally be neighbors. Because I would never look twice at vomit clothes on the front steps and you probably wouldn't worry too much about all the bloody tissues lying around the house.

I so completely am terrified of Philip taking off for a trip that I think I'll have to ban any job that requires a business trip.

On the other hand, if taking business trips allows him to make enough money for us to live on, I guess I'd pick that over being homeless or having to work at JoAnne's Fabrics.

Oh, I just got a bolt of the apples and pears fabric you had a while ago, but in brown. I can't remember how come I didn't get it in blue. It keeps making me think of you though.

Keri said...

Ha ha I can SO FEEL YOUR PAIN on the boy freaking. the. hell. out. whilst. playing. games. Mine does it too - so it's good to know that he's not the only one. I told him that he could cuss once he's 18 - so when he's mad he'll say (under his breath) "I wish I was 18!!!". And one time he just lost it and yelled "just FUCK IT!" I know it's wrong, wrong, wrong but I laughed my head off!

lera said...

Day 3 of 19? Good luck.

I'm on day 14 of 17. I'm not bragging though. Just sayin'.

Kim - ScrapToMyLu said...

get the tongs, then just throw the clothes away. :) Kind of like moldy tupperware.

www.bigbucketgirl.typepad.com said...

I recognise your day..Our eldest DS can flip from a quiet, engaging, happy boy to a screaming, vein bulging, seething mass with a hot, hot red face. All hell breaks loose and after the tirade of "you don't love me, you don't care, it's mine, blah blah" he calms down and 'normality' returns. We put it down to exhaustion. He's dyslexic(and more i swear) and school is really hard and heavy for him at the moment. So we suffer meltdowns. Volcanic meltdowns.
I hate to think what the neighbours think..because we have had a vomit porch too. Bleurgh.

Rachel said...

I am feeling your single-parentness right now! And it's nice to hear I am not the only mom who seems to never be prepared for the vomit, exploding diaper episodes either! Who ARE those moms with a car full of extra diapers and clothes?

LLA said...

being a travel widow does suck ass. And it sounds like you've been gettin extra helpings of additional suck-ass-iness...

you know I can empathize... and hope that it gets better. Or that A gets his ass home....

samantha said...

good use of the local shopping centre I say. bloody travel widowness should be outlawed!! like when does it ever happen the other way? I'd like to see my husband have to clean up vomit in those circumstances - now I'm just being bitchy!!

hang in there girl.