The past three weeks I have experienced many changes, many of which are extremely bittersweet. My husband has been blessed with a new job in a higher devision of football! And if that weren't wonderful enough, it is in our home town. But, this incredible blessing comes with its own set of challenges. He received this job the week before Christmas and was gone before the New Year. And gone he has stayed. So, here I sit waiting for his return, waiting for our new life to start and absolutely dreading the good byes we will all have to make. But the sappy good bye blog is on its way and it is not this one. This one is to tell you, although my husband is busy learning the ins and out of his new football team, he is in a tropical climate, having lunches and dinners with family and friends. I am here.
Since he has been gone I have been through a winter break with two children, a snow storm, a winter vortex in which my entire town was shut down for two days, and then just normal everyday life, all of which I have needed an old priest and a young priest, my neighbors, friends and ice cream to get through. My children have had me within an inch of my sanity for almost three weeks now and I thought I would share their antics.
Bath time seems to be when things literally and figuratively go to shit. If its not my youngest neither shitting nor getting off the pot for twenty minutes before bath and then complaining that his feet are asleep, it's my eldest who happily times his flatulence to hit my hand or my face while I towel him off. The peak of insanity and hilarity is when Connor, my two year old, while in the tub, informed me that I had a big booty. I agreed. Then he continued this pleasant conversation by telling me i also had a large weenie… that is when I took issue. I informed him that I did not have a weenie of any size. To which my five year old chimed in by explaining to his brother that I peed out of my butt. So there in I had to have a talk about my lady business with a five year old and two year old males. As you can imagine, I don't think anything sank in.
If it is not my two and five year old giving me a run for my money, its my twelve and ten year old dogs. Let me explain, in his youth, Gizmo was the most obedient and wonderfully spoiled dog in the entire world. But now that he's twelve he has decided to wipe his ass with me and not listen to anything I have to say. Granted he is getting a little deaf, but when you see a panda bear-esque shih tzu staring you dead in the eye while stands in the middle of the yard giving you the finger in negative degree weather it does something to your soul.I don't care if he's in the record books for deafness or age, it makes me see red. And then there is Harley, who might be one of the most adorable little dogs you have ever seen, and yet, also the biggest asshole to ever walk this earth. He takes forty minutes to do anything outside; rain, sleet, blizzard, heat wave, you name it and the bastard takes his time. And then when he comes in he wiggles around and sighs like he is saying, "man that was rough". He also is a part time anorexic, and since Gizmo is a full time glutton, Harley is banished to the laundry room until his food gets eaten. He barks every ten minutes until he finishes which can take hours. (I make him stay in there because when he waits to long to eat he pukes and true to fashion he always finds a nice clean rug.)
Don't get me wrong, I feel incredibly lucky. We are moving back to where all of our family is and I am very excited about that. But while I have boogers stuck to most of my body, and I am playing the "is it poop or chocolate" game, while I freeze my ass off calling for dogs that don't come and my husband calls to tell he is going for a quick run, or a quick bite to eat with friends, I realize, he is just a little more lucky than I am. I tell him daily that his life is infinitely easier than mine. And it is HE not I that hit the jack pot. After all, who is the one with the four nine potty mouthed wife, that can't cook and is beyond the edge of reason most days. If life is a box of chocolates he picked the nuttiest fun sized one in the bunch.
