It's 2:45am. I'm apparently up for the day. I went to bed last night at 8:30 after almost falling asleep in the bathtub. My girls weren't even asleep yet when I crawled into bed. Vic woke me about 9 to ask if I was ok, since the idea of me going to bed before midnight is just plain ludicrous. I woke just after 2am with Chad sleeping at the foot of my bed like a collie. To avoid going into a mindless rant about this, let me just say this is an issue we have discussed a million times and is a source of great irritation. After sending him back to his room, I was unable to go back to sleep. I guess my body decided 5 hours of sleep was close enough to a whole night. So here I am.
Yesterday was a long day, which is probably why I was so exhausted. I woke to the telephone ringing and my mother in law on the other end telling me she'd be stopping by "in the afternoon." I hopped out of bed and started cleaning. What strange instinct drives this behavior? Why do I care more about the condition of my house with visitors I don't like than with visitors I do like? My mother in law hasn't cleaned her house in.. well maybe ever. There's a literal path through to various rooms in her house, and some rooms are completely inaccessible. Why should I care if my carpet hasn't been vacuumed or my counters not wiped down? Either way, there I was cleaning 45 minutes later when she called to say she was on her way. It was 10:30. So much for an afternoon visit, and so much for getting my house clean ahead of time.
Thankfully it was only a short visit, as always, and the kids didn't even drag her into their rooms to show off some new thing. When she left, we set about finishing the housework. The kids fought. The vacuum had to be fixed (again).Things were spilled and clothes were changed. Vic was having some kind of nervous episode I guess, because he constantly snapped at the kids and I constantly apologized for him. After about an hour of that I finally asked him, "What is wrong with you?" Turns out the car he's supposed to be fixing for my mom has some rusted bolts and he'd already had to cut off three. He mumbled something about an impact wrench and $50. Whatever.. I just want her car fixed and out of my driveway. We all ate peanut butter and jelly for lunch since we're all out of everything else.
After lunch, Chad started nagging to go to the dollar store. A couple days ago, he decorated his bedroom with a spare set of Christmas lights, and had been asking to go somewhere to get another set or two ever since. I finally caved and just as we started heading out the door, Cadence and Riley were begging to go too. I asked Vic to come along, just to help corral them around all the breakables. Even in a store where everything's a dollar, you can spend a lot of money paying for an entire display of wise men knocked to the floor. Turns out the cheapo lights at the dollar store only have a plug on one end, meaning all strings have to come from their own outlet. That might have still worked if the strings were longer than 5ft. We decided to try a different store.
File back out of the store, pile everybody in the car, break up a fight about who sits in the middle, and we're ready. Except the car won't start. After a brief once-over, Vic announced the fuel pump isn't working. Ugh. We just replaced the stupid fuel pump a couple months ago. It's still under warranty, but it doesn't help much to know that when I'll still be without a vehicle for a few days until it's fixed. I ended up walking up the street to a pay phone and called a ride. My car is still sitting outside the dollar store. I hope they don't tow it.
Considering how yesterday went, it's a good thing I'm up early today (although I'm not so sure I need to be up this early). I still have to figure out how we're getting my car home, and how I'm going to get to the store for some groceries. I've got a big pot of coffee brewing for brain fuel, and as soon as 8am comes around I'll be making phone calls. And that's only 5 hours away!