Guest blogger mom-on-the-edge: Last week was one of those weeks where if I didn't laugh, I'd cry. OK, I cried, too.
It was a beautiful day and my husband was off mountain biking -- his gift from me for our second anniversary. I was enjoying the cool autumn air and watching our son play in the grass. We live in a big city so this was special -- green grass minus dog poop worries! Then my phone rang ... "I cut my hand open. I need stitches right away." He'd only been riding for 45 minutes but it wasn't the end of the world. In fact, I think my husband was excited because the injury would encourage questions and then he could relay his tale of speeding down the trail. After we left the Urgent Care, I felt inspired, "Why don't we set aside $200 and spend a night away each month. It would be good for us. $2,400 can be our yearly vacation fund..." He said, "We're going away in January." "But that's with your family. I'm talking about just us and working on our relationship." "That's a vacation!" "But it's not relaxing..." "Everything has to be about relaxing with you..." It went downhill from there. Just like his mountain biking.
My husband was taking our 14-month-old out for a walk. I bundled the little guy in a sweatshirt, pulled the hood up around his face and kissed his cheeks. He looked so cute toddling out the door. Moments passed and the intercom buzzed -- only instead of being greeted by the doorman, my husband's grim voice said, "He got his hand stuck in the elevator. His fingers turned purple ..." I ran down the stairs, cradled our sobbing son and watched his grape-juiced stained fingers swell. I rushed to the doctor's office. Nothing broken. Phew!
My husband awoke with three incredibly itchy bug bites in a row near his wrist. A guy at work says that's bed bugs! Panic set in. I call management, an exterminator, wash all the clothes, the sheets ... I feel itchy just thinking about it. The exterminator says he'll be by tomorrow, but if it is bed bugs you've got to clear everything out of your apartment, get all your clothes and linens dry cleaned. In fact, you may have to throw all your furniture out. He asks, "Have you taken a vacation anywhere recently? You can bring bed bugs home from a hotel." Aaaaaah, yes, the night up in the mountains. The gift that keeps on giving.
Up to my neck in fifty pounds of laundry, I called my husband at work to tell him the new crib came in. Thanks to momlogic, I discovered that our son has been sleeping in a possible death trap -- Simplicity cribs were recalled. I hadn't had a good night's sleep since the news. Plus, the possible bed bugs! My husband said, "I'm not coming home tonight." But ... But ...
The exterminator arrived so I hung up disappointed, but distracted. He was wearing a hazmat suit! He searched high and low with a flashlight. Looking closely at the sheets he asked if my husband and I slept in the same bed. Awkward! He checked the base boards, in the cushions of the couch ... it looked like we were in the clear. Thank goodness! However, he added, that didn't mean we didn't have bed bugs, keep cleaning and he'll be back next Tuesday to check again.
My new neighbors noticed the crib came in. They also noticed that my husband came and went as he pleased so they insisted on putting it together that very night. Sooo nice! They're Mormons but, unfortunately, contrary to popular belief, not all Mormons practice polygamy. Drats.
At last, I sat down to relax and watch a bit of TV. The phone rang. Could my husband be calling to check in on us? Nope, it was my sister announcing that the love-of-my-life, the one who got away, the NICE guy, the guy that wanted to get married but I was too scared to, the guy who made me laugh every day for eight years, my true soul mate was there on "America's Next Top Model." He was the featured photographer and guest judge. He made it. All those years struggling together, he made it. A huge success. It couldn't happen to a better guy. I broke down. Completely and totally cried my eyes out. Luckily, my son was sleeping.
Well, the week couldn't end without a bang. I had oral surgery. In fourth grade, I was playing with a 'time bomb' toy. It was like playing the game 'hot potato' only when it stopped ticking whoever was left holding it was out. It was down to this girl Michelle and I and she got so excited she chucked the thing at my head. It knocked my front teeth out in an upside down 'V.' I'm 40 and still dealing with it. This was the final step before getting my implant. After two hours I held up a mirror and smiled. And get this -- you could see the screw they put in my head. My husband would argue it was a loose screw. The dentist said he had to keep it exposed so the gum would heal over it. And, it wasn't even Halloween yet.