WARNING: The following contains graphic material and may not be suitable for everyone. Read at your own risk.
We had just returned from our camping trip, and My dear friend Mrs X had stopped by to visit. Alex was running around like a crazy person, Spain was fighting an impeding nap, and I was just glad to be out of the car.
Mrs X and I were sitting on the couch talking, Alex had disappeared And Spain needed a diaper change. Suddenly we hear a frail "Mama" wobble from the hallway. The cry became frantic "MAMA! MAMA! IT WON"T STOP!!". The hallway was empty when I peeked around the corner, the commotion was coming from the bathroom. I rushed to the bathroom and my soul withered. Alex was standing next the bathtub hopping around the floor on small dry islands, as the toilet spilled over. Water rushed into the hallway as I took in the scene.
My brain suddenly acknowledged what was happening. I raced back to the living room and handed Spain to Mrs. X. I darted to the dining room table where my phone was innocently resting by a collection of our mail. Without stopping, I grabbed the phone and raced back to the bathroom. Water was taking over the entire bathroom and a nice expanse of the hallway. With one foot I leaped onto the Go Diego! Go! stool that I seriously doubted could support my weight, and the other foot I braced on the top of the toilet tank. I simultaneously leaned over the toilet to grab the plunger from the corner, scrolled through the contacts list on my phone to find the maintenance number, and prayed fervently for the toilet, for me to not fall into the toilet, and for the rapture to happen that very moment.
My hand wrapped around the handle of the plunger as I hit the send button on my cell phone. In my precarious perch, I nestled the phone against my shoulder, adjusted my footing, and plunged the plunger into the abyss. The toilet gurgled and the water immediately started retreating down the drain. As the water disappeared the perky lady on the phone.
I calculated the odds that they would come clean the mess up for me.
"Thanks, I think I resolved the issue myself." I absently said into the phone.
I'm not going to go into detail about the clean up. Let's just say, clean up took awhile and I was very very grateful to have a bottle of bleach on hand. As I found each hidden nook of dirty water, I muttered "I quit" under by breath. Just as I finished mopping the bathroom floor, the front door opened and Sweet Husband came in.
"I'm home" he singsonged happily.
"Really?!" I wailed "You couldn't have come home 20 minutes ago, when the toilet exploded?! I can't believe this! I quit! I'm done! I can't handle this!"
Sweet husband cautiously grabbed the leash from it's place behind the door.
"I'm going to take the dog out" he called as he and the dog darted out the door.
Showing posts with label over reacting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label over reacting. Show all posts
Monday, October 31, 2011
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Over reacting? Never
For some reason dealing with a sleepy, cranky child who just won't go to sleep isn't not high on my list of "relaxing atmospheres".
Bubble baths with candles. Check.
Curled up in the papasan chair with a good book and a quiet house. Check.
Standing in the middle of my street at 2 am waiting for the dog to pee. No, but preferably to trying to calm squalling loaner toddler for three hours until she finally fell asleep.
Just as I began to rethink my plans to ever have sex again, my husband called. Even from the Middle East that man has the talent to talk me down from the edge.
I won't lie. My super power is being able to bottle stressful feelings inside, and then use them to majorly freak out about anything I cannot control. Big, small, it doesn't matter.
Today's freak-out featured topics such as "We're never going to finish paying off our car!", "I'm never going to finish my degree because I can't talk to a real person at UTSA" and "I know you want to homeschool, but all he talks about is his fictational teacher. And I can't compete with her!!!"
Somewhere in the midst of the education related "coversations" I realized that I wasn't frazzled anymore. In fact I would almost call the feeling abducting my body "calm".
Two hours later I went to the airport and picked up some Spring Breakers! So my house is now the refuge for not one. Not two. Yes THREE! Three young people who are of age to need a babysitter.
I love children (obviously), but I can't help wonder if I'm the only one person who manages to add people to her household while sucessfully practicing absintence.
Bubble baths with candles. Check.
Curled up in the papasan chair with a good book and a quiet house. Check.
Standing in the middle of my street at 2 am waiting for the dog to pee. No, but preferably to trying to calm squalling loaner toddler for three hours until she finally fell asleep.
Just as I began to rethink my plans to ever have sex again, my husband called. Even from the Middle East that man has the talent to talk me down from the edge.
I won't lie. My super power is being able to bottle stressful feelings inside, and then use them to majorly freak out about anything I cannot control. Big, small, it doesn't matter.
Today's freak-out featured topics such as "We're never going to finish paying off our car!", "I'm never going to finish my degree because I can't talk to a real person at UTSA" and "I know you want to homeschool, but all he talks about is his fictational teacher. And I can't compete with her!!!"
Somewhere in the midst of the education related "coversations" I realized that I wasn't frazzled anymore. In fact I would almost call the feeling abducting my body "calm".
Two hours later I went to the airport and picked up some Spring Breakers! So my house is now the refuge for not one. Not two. Yes THREE! Three young people who are of age to need a babysitter.
I love children (obviously), but I can't help wonder if I'm the only one person who manages to add people to her household while sucessfully practicing absintence.