Diary of a Single Mom.

Editor's note:  There may have been a *slight* delay between the writing and the publishing here so you should probably interpret "last weekend" to mean 10-ish days ago. 

Matt worked all last weekend, Monday night, and then left Tuesday for Los Angeles, to help my Dad, back from his high sea adventure, pack up Gigi's things.  It was a belated Valentine's Day present for me (I know, so romantic) since my flight bennies are screwed up, I can't miss any more time from work, my low back wasn't up for hauling furniture and -mostly- because I really, really didn't want to see Gigi's empty house.

He was supposed to come back Friday but finally bought a ticket late Sunday after spending two days camped in various airports and a random hotel in Denver, courtesy of Winter Storm, Episode XVII and the airlines' flight cuts.  Yay.  

While there was significantly less laundry, we all missed him.  Some of us for more selfish reasons than others.  I didn't go running for 10 days and, well, bless all the single moms out there.  If you know one, go do something nice for her.  Buy her a coffee.  Or tell her she's still pretty, despite the uncombed hair and ragged nails.  I   She might have started crying if you had.

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On Monday I was busy congratulating myself for all the Fun! Educational! things I'd done with the kids that weekend and marveling at how efficiently I unloaded the dishwasher while the coffee brewed.  I know!  Genius, right?  I should've gotten an award or something.

On Tuesday I folded a load of towels.  I decided the kitchen counters didn't really need to be wiped down that often but the kids were clean and stories read.  I can prioritize like a boss.

I'm not sure what the kids ate for dinner Wednesday and I KNOW one of them did not brush their teeth all day.  I fell asleep on a pillow pet next to one of them.  The one that kicks.  

Thursday morning I couldn't find the large white hairy dog.  He's usually impatiently waiting for me to go downstairs and let him out, but wasn't by the gate.  I thought maybe he'd slept downstairs but he wasn't there either and didn't come when I called.  Holy hell, had I accidentally left him out all night?  Full of remorse and thinking I was going to owe him a big steak, I called.  Nothing.  I saw the temperature gauge - 10 degrees.  Holy hell, I'd let my dog freeze to death!  They were going to take my children away from me and I'd have to move and change my name to avoid the hate mail.  

Dramatic Reenactment

[I found him happily curled up on a pile of laundry in my closet.  SOMEONE in this house insists on closing All Doors and had shut him up inside. *phew!*  All my black sweaters, however, appear unsalvageable].

SOMEONE, playing dress up.

I got to work at 9 and found out at 10 my father in law was bringing The Boy to my house after school, instead of my OCD OR-clean SIL's.  I rushed home at 11 to frantically hide piles, vacuum up the fuzzy elephant herd rolling around the floor, and throw something in the crockpot so the place didn't smell like dirty boy socks, despair, and large white hairy dog.

Jeeeezzz… house and reputation salvaged from the brink by pure panic grit (and a shockingly flexible schedule).  I fantasized about live in domestic help and bald dogs on the way back to the office.  

But I was triumphant by Friday. There was only one morning tardy, no emergency calls to plumbers, fire departments, or in-laws, and *bonus!* I hadn't let anyone freeze to death.  Whoot!

In celebration, we had movie night / camp out in Mom's room…. where I noticed The Boy scratching his head.  There'd been a note a few weeks ago about head lice at school so I panicked and rushed him into the bathroom, fully prepared to shave his head bald, but it was just a rash on his neck.

[I find the phrase "just a rash" hysterically funny now.]

He took a quick shower & was fine so we finished the movie & he went to bed.  Saturday morning his entire torso was red & welty.  I made an appointment with his ped.  The hives disappeared.  (Never, ever underestimate the healing power of a phone call.)  I cancelled the appointment.  They came back, worse…. naturally, minutes after the doctor's office closed.  I called the nurse line and got their blessing for Benadryl.  Which worked great, except when the dose wore off the hives came back & had spread down to his knees & hands.

By Sunday morning his entire back looked like a 3rd degree burn with blisters, and the welts were perilously close to his eyes.  Darn it!  I waved my white flag, called the in laws to watch The Girl, and hauled The Boy off to the ER where they were appropriately impressed and gave him some Prednisone.

Best part of the day?  He thought it tasted like egg nog.

I think the best part of the day really was that I had people to call.  Maybe not people I don't have to vacuum for, but people nonetheless.  And not that I couldn't have wrangled The Girl in the ER, but I don't think she's supposed to play with the Sharps container and it was easier to focus on the one racing toward anaphylaxis shock.  If you know someone going it alone?  Even short term?  Be their people and bring coffee.  Lots & lots of coffee.  And maybe some extra Benadryl, just in case. 

Shedding on the couch this time, not my sweaters.