It’s been a week. It’s been quite a few weeks, actually. Which really tells me we’re almost there with ‘normal’, right? My theory is, if I can look at my life and appreciate the tiny disasters in the chaos that arrive with spring, it means we’re so close to being normal again.
Which in a way, makes it harder. Because this time last year, I was staring out the window like sad Pablo Escobar in that season of Narcos, wondering if the world might end. This year, we’re in the in-between, and I think I almost crave pointless school events again. {ALMOST IS THE KEYWORD HERE.}
You know, the one where you wait for your kid’s part in the play so you can give them a thumbs up and be supportive, and then pretend to pay attention because you don’t have time to listen to someone else’s tone deaf offspring sing in the talent show for the fifth year in a row while you wonder if it’s okay to be rude and check your email? Yeah, that was super specific. This past year has literally been a learning moment for “this could have been an email or zoom”. I hope we hold on to that.
But I lied. I’m burning sage and smearing Chic-Fil-A sauce over the door of our home as we speak, to ward off Felicia who is bound to return by fall. She’ll stop by and ask me to join the PTA. She can stop throwing looks at me when I run into her at Publix because I had boundaries, and I’m still wearing a mask paired with sunglasses in November 2022, so she’s not sure if it’s me.
I’ve been socially distant since like, 2015. Sorry not ever sorry.
But regarding all things re-entry: Our youngest will be in middle school next year, and oddly enough I think it gets easier since older kids know their parents are embarrassing and don’t really want me to show up 24/7 to help with the latest school fundraiser.
I’m a cool mom.
I think the little things are layered on top of the deeper, harder stuff, and I’m just trying to function over here without continuing to drown my feelings. 2020 is over. I need the world to stop burning and for people to be nice for 2.5 seconds so I can lose my covid weight mmkay? Thaaaannnnkkkkksssss.
It would have made managing my anxiety much easier, if my life in the past year was presented to me like a super specific children’s book with full-on illustrations. Here’s the chapter where people continue to act like morons and hoard all the toilet paper. Here’s the chapter where you are sad that people are insecure, and project too much as a coping mechanism which can feel super aggressive. Here’s the one where you realize your scale is not broken. Here’s the chapter where someone resorted to online bullying before the election and now you hate everyone. And here’s the chapter where the grocery store has toilet paper, but not ketchup.
Who saw that one coming?
It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.
::Someone asks me for a favor::
Me: Ummm I’m having an existential crisis right now. Can I get back to you?
Our basement flooded a few weeks ago. Sometimes in Nashville, we get this adorable situation called the hundred year flood, except they seem to come every two years, and this was one of those ridiculous, unavoidable things. I think we received 8.2 inches of rain in 24 hours but I’m bad with numbers, so close enough. Now we have a team digging trenches in our crawlspace and he found more things and let’s just say it’s been fun owning an old house with an undisclosed history. I’m grateful for professionals that install underground sump pumps.
At this point, the discovery of a body wouldn’t surprise me. Gearing up for my new podcast now. Or cash. I’d definitely settle for a hidden box of cash.
Next, Jamin found some kind of odd spot on his eye, which has to have taken care of so that’s fun. Then, the kids were showering when it started raining from the ceiling below the shower. You know, as basement ceilings do. The same basement where I just had all my nice rugs professionally cleaned and salvaged. We can easily repair it, but apparently, the theme is water.
Because after that, our pool had a busted pipe {yay pool maintenance} and then the entire swing fell in the cabana whilst I was sitting in it, so that was fun. While I sputtered out sawdust, I realized that the whole deal about bad things happening in threes, is a horrible lie.
Is Mercury in retrograde? Did our children summon the Bell Witch without our knowledge? Tell me what I DID WRONG.
Add all this to helping our kids navigate teenage-hood {Under-developed frontal cortexes + raging hormones are NOT for the faint of heart} whilst running a small business, which includes but is not limited to chasing rabbits and putting out fires… and we’re just burned out.
I proclaimed my nerves officially shot, when Fitz {our pup} fell down the stairs {bless it, she’s fine} but we had to put her on drugs to help her hip heal.
BTW, when people ask me if I have children, my new reply is 3.5. Because we have three children, and we also adopted two 70-lb not-so-little pups. Did I mention they have zero concept of personal boundaries? Or the fact that they’re slowly destroying our house? That, paired with 500 dollar vet bills every time we go, feels equal to at least one feral toddler, which should in all fairness, equal to adding another dependent on our taxes. Yeah, I did the maths.
After two nights of waking to the sound of said dog dry heaving because of aforementioned meds, all to race down the stairs so that she can get outside on time {bless her, she tries} is like having a child who doesn’t sleep, all over again. I did my time. I’m not going back. That means I’m extra wimpy because my expectations are that my children sleep in until 9:30 am, so my work here is basically done.
There’s something so horrendous about that sound. My soul leaves my body for a moment. I’m from Alabama, so I was raised with tornadoes in which my entire family regularly woke up and went to our safe place. We know how to rise quickly, and we still didn’t jump like the sanitation of our rugs depended on it. We were all, “The roof is about to be plum clean ripped off our house, PAW!” And we basically sauntered down into the basement in comparison.
I’m still developing the patent for dog-vom alarm clocks due to their sheer effectiveness at waking the dead. Shark Tank, here we come. Maybe the proceeds from making dog owners everywhere feel more productive, will pay for our fancy sump pump installation. And if I’m lucky, let’s tack on the therapy for dealing with people this last year.
Three cheers to surviving this stage of spring. Life can be crazy and kinda hard with the little things piled on top of the real.
Just know you’re not alone. Go buy some ketchup before it’s too late.
But hey. We’re almost there.
{Pssst… this was written as satire for feeling almost-normal this Spring and dealing with things which are actually quite refreshing compared to last year. Please douse your angry mob torches. I know it could always be worse. Feel free to leave an angry comment if you have rabies. Just know I’ll never be sorry about the chic-fil-a sauce. That’s on you, Felicia.}
Rebecca says
Thank you for the needed reminder that other people’s lives aren’t perfect either. Life is hard for everyone sometimes and being able to laugh at yourself can really help on a bad day!
ashley @ the handmade home says
Awe – when I was writing all this out, I didn’t want anyone to think I was complaining… even though I kinda was. But my greatest hope was that people would realize that YES, our lives are SO VERY FAR from PERFECT. Hugs, Rebecca. Thank you for stopping by!
Lesli Mataya says
Thank you, as always, for making me laugh. I feel bad about all your trials and tribulations but I could so relate! So again thank you for putting down in words what happens to us all from time to time. I am so glad I found your blog!
ashley @ the handmade home says
Awe thank you so much, Lesli! You’re just the sweetest for letting us know you dropped by. And yay for humor all the way! If ya can’t laugh at yourself… ;} Hugs to you!
Anna says
This is just perfect. I needed this today. Thank you as always for making me laugh.
Layla K says
I laughed so hard at this! Thank you so much for sharing and being real! I love it and needed the reminder today that you’re normal. And you’re not alone at hiding from the PTA mob bosses, either. As a working parent I just can’t and I’m not sorry about it 😂
Elle says
This was the very first time at your blog and the first post of yours that I’ve ever read, and I spit out my drink at your final “…if you have rabies” comment. I’m still laughing! The home designs are really beautiful and I’ll come back to see more, but your cheeky monkey attitude will make it that much more fun.
ashley @ the handmade home says
HAHA Elle – this made my morning! Hope you find some things you like here! — Love your name.