Emotional Grenades and Crumbling Garage Doors

This is one of those blogging episodes that I will probably regret. However, I've had a week that was filled with snippets of what Hell must be like and I'm weary and I can literally see the SNAP in the near future. If you need the translation of this... This entry will be a reality check and if you're prone to feeling like I whine too much (thank you anonymous friend - again), just stop reading.

So, based on my normal behaviors, I usually filter everything I write through the "Is this going to build others up or tear them down" filter. Today, that filter is not operational. I'm aware of what I'm saying might be hurtful to others but I'm tired of being responsible for everyone elses' emotions. When is someone going to worry about mine?

Star log - Monday night, Grant's Court of Honor

I was horrified at how some of the boys acted in God's house. Are you kidding me? I know I'm a prude and my expectations are way too high but what happened to being reverent?

Star log - Tuesday, Mindset training
So, I created and left plans for a substitute to babysit my students while I went to a training on how to de-escalate volatile students and then how to restrain them properly if necessary. I also had to practice these martial arts sort of maneuvers on another adult. Let's just say that I now have moves and I know how to use them. Ugh.

Tuesday night, Eric picked the kids up for ice cream.

Star log - Wednesday, making ice cream and packing gifts
Wednesday was sort of a blur. I do vividly remember making ice cream with 24 students and the other teacher in the room threatening not to come back if I pulled any more stunts like that one! Did you know that rock salt leaves a horrible residue behind and that cheap-o baggies burst like a Dollar Store balloon?

Eric picked the kids up from school and the sitter and left me to get some work done in my own classroom. When I did get home, I seem to remember baking about 4 dozen cupcakes using 2 six count muffin tins, wrapping gifts for all of my students, and then packing up all of the extras for the kids' last day before the break. I think this is the point where I put my first foot out on the tightrope and just sort of stutter stepped trying to decide what my next move would be.

Star log - Thursday, preschool musical and class party

For those of you who work in corporate America, I'm sure you think this is crazy. However, elementary school teachers are given to having thematic days. Thursday, third grade dressed like characters from The Grinch. (Grant was mortified by my shirt. I'd never wear it in a middle school but for elementary kids, it's ok). Anyway, at some point in the morning, I made a quick wardrobe change and bolted for the preschool so I could see Annie perform. Now, I knew Eric would be there but I wasn't expecting his fiance. (Thank goodness Grant had given me a heads up on the ring situation). Anyway, the whole thing was simply awkward. "They" went on to Annie's party and I headed back to school. I have cried very few times in the last year. I've sort of learned to compartmentalize emotions and lock my heart behind concertina wire. The weariness coupled with the awkwardness simply did me in. My teammates welcomed me back into the nut house with open arms. (I do remember one of them getting riled up and threatening me with a yard stick but she eventually calmed down and went back to her cage)! :)

 Then, there were the questions from coworkers who'd seen his big engagement photos on FB from Wednesday night. Seriously? I'm going to leave it at that but it was just more fuel for my downward spiral.

Once again, Eric picked the kids up from their schools and then deposited them back home.

Knowing that Eric would be taking the kids to celebrate Christmas with his side of the family, Grant wanted to wrap the gifts we'd gotten for them. The problem was that I didn't have any boxes. So, I buckled Annie into the van and we were going to head to the Dollar Store. About the time I closed the van door (in the garage), there was a huge boom and I looked in the side mirror and realized that the garage door was laying on top of the van. Are you kidding? The tears were flowing before I ever opened the door. Poor Annie was clueless and whimpering about her missed opportunity to go to the Dollar Store. Upon further review, I realized that the door actually wasn't ON the van but was hanging precariously inches about the rear window.

Who do you call? I didn't think Ghostbusters would help much with this scenario other than capturing the monsters that I was letting loose from my mind. I didn't want to call dad. I knew he was exhausted after a rough week. The van was stuck in the garage and it was just that simple. I didn't feel like I had anywhere to turn. I do NOT like feeling helpless and I really detest admitting that I am helpless. So, I swallowed my pride and called my dad. He mumbled a few choice words and said he was on his way. By this point, it was dark and the wind was howling, too. Not the best conditions for analyzing what was deemed to be something stupid that I had caused. (Is it a dad's job to always blame the daughter for screwing it up)?

Anyway, when he arrived on the scene, he had a black eye and looked rough. I promise that I did not deck him and give him the shiner. Yes. I did think about it when he accused me of causing the whole door to jump into the air and then fold in half. What the heck? As he started taking inventory, I asked my mom what had happened to him, she said that he'd tripped at work. I think I gave her the evil eye because she found it necessary to tell me that she hadn't blackened his eye, either.  So, as we chatted, poor dad somehow yanked the door down and secured it so it wouldn't fall in on the van. As he came out of the garage, my mom jokingly grabbed his elbow trying to lighten the mood. He yelped like an injured dog. This is the man who buys me Christmas trees while passing kidney stones. He can hold his pain like a sailor holds liquor. He finally admitted that he'd injured his elbow, as well. My thoughts were a little selfish and went something like, "Great. You're my one ticket to getting this door fixed without having to call in a repairman and now you're injured." Maybe not my most grace filled moment.

So, mom and dad left and the kids came out of hiding. Poor Grant had taken the girls upstairs not knowing exactly which direction my potato head parts were going to fly when I snapped. I love that boy. When the kids came downstairs, my tears started again and Grant simply scooped me into his arms and hugged me. I admit that it just made me cry harder. While I'm making admissions, I'll also tell you that I went into a soliloquy shouting out at God saying, "I've done nothing but try to do the right thing! Why the heck (um, yeah, it might not have been heck that I said) am I the one that keeps getting the short end of the stick? I'm the one who has the house falling in around me and the kids to keep on the straight and narrow and a bank account that has to perform miracles every month to make the ends meet!" The whole show just went down hill from there. I was left standing alone in the cold kitchen feeling like I was at the bottom of the well. Grant had once again scuttled the girls back upstairs but as soon as Dasha thought it was quiet, she came back downstairs and decided to unknowingly take another shot at me while I was down for the count.

Out of all three kids, she's the best one at lobbing emotional grenades at me when I least expect it. She said, "What does engaged mean?" I tried to keep it simple for both of us and just told her that it was when a man asked a woman to marry him. How hard is that? Her response was, "So, you can only have one wife, right?" Now, I've admitted that Sister Wives is one of my guilty pleasures so I'm sort of laughing in my head thinking that I should make sure that she's not in the vicinity when I'm watching. However, when I confirmed her belief, she asked, "So that means that Daddy can't marry you again?" In the words of my teammate, sugar honey ice tea! I did not have the capacity to play Dr. Phil. I felt like my world was crumbling around me like the darn garage door. Once again, I confirmed her belief and I left it at that. She said, "So, I guess I'll have a step-mom now," and she went back upstairs. Yeah, I know. Once again, I'm mom of the year material. So, I'm not sure what she's processing right now but I'm sure I haven't heard the end of it.

Star log - Friday
Did I mentioned that my mom set up a calling schedule to keep calling me and checking on my every hour to make sure that I hadn't completely lost it? Well intended but very annoying when you just want to be left alone. Anyway, her calls resumed at 7:00 a.m. after a very rough night with Annie. (She still has a nasty cold and ended up in my bed where I could keep her propped up on pillows). Mom said that dad was going to the ER to have his arm x-rayed. I started to say, "No, duh, Ethel," but decided that was a bit too sassy. Then, she went on to say that dad was going to go to Home Depot and get some "stuff" to fix the door. Crap. Crap. Crap. I was quite sure that by "stuff" she meant things in the same category as duct tape. I panicked and put my pride away and called a co-worker to see if her handy man husband could at least help me get the van out so the door could hang by its hinges indefinitely. I also called a garage door company to come and give me an estimate on a fix that wouldn't include duct tape. (Eric had picked the kids up early that morning so they weren't having to see my hysterics).

To get to the point (my eyes are falling shut and Annie needs more cold medicine), my friend's husband and her dad came and freed the van. The repair guy came and said the door needed to be completely replaced with a price tag of about $800. Hmmm.... How much does a roll of duct tape cost? They even have those cool designs now. I could have a designer door that would completely tick the HOA off.

So, I spent the remainder of the day looking for solutions. I did splurge and get take out tonight and watched reruns of Duck Dynasty while eating Thai food and Christmas cookies. (Yes, it was definitely cookieS - plural).

The good of today? When I ran to Home Depot to get an idea of their prices, the Service Engine Light in the van went off. Maybe the light just burned out. Who knows but we'll see if the van's close call with death while trapped in the garage scared it straight or if it's just scared that I'll unleash my next dose of crazy on it if it doesn't straighten itself out!

That brings me to 10:51 on Friday night. I'm tired. My eyes are sore from crying. I need to get clothes laid out for everyone for tomorrow. Eric is picking the kids up again and I'll spend the day wrapping gifts. I used to enjoy wrapping but now that it's mandatory, it's not so amusing. Oh well. It's just much easier to do without little eyes everywhere. This blog was supposed to be filled with hateful crap and stuff that I could say, "It's true no matter how much it hurts," but it isn't. I just can't do it. Believe me, I'd love to push some of these thoughts out and clear my brain but... Anyway, if I ever got caught in a Groundhog Day movie scenario with the events of today, I'd have to give up and call, "UNCLE!"

Good night, all.