Have you ever had the kind of weekend that made Monday look exciting? The kind of weekend where you wished you could just go to work and bury yourself in some filing or data entry or even emptying the trash cans? Anything to get out of the weekend….
Well, that is exactly what I have been through the past few days. It all started Friday. The Big Ugly Van is out of commission and all the backup vehicles my hubby keeps around here had one problem or another. Now, if you know my family, you know my husband has 5 or 6 cars at any one time. He goes from project to project. The choices might be ugly, but there’s always something to drive. But Friday was the exception. The Yukon is in the shop, the Big Ugly Van has a list of little problems such as broken windshield wipers and no AC, and the Nissan’s clutch doesn’t agree with my neuropathy, so I was without transportation.
That wouldn’t be so bad, but my kids love FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS!
And, it was HOMECOMING!
I spent days making mums and garters.
Everyone was so happy to be wearing them.
And KK has a favorite player she wanted to go see.
They wanted to go to the game so bad that Trenton asked if we could walk to Tiger Stadium!
Just when I thought it was hopeless, Daddy got home with the truck and we loaded up and headed to the stadium.
The game was going well. The Tigers were winning.
Our favorite player had 2 touchdowns already. I was standing down by the end zone because the stands were so full. The kids were running and playing. I saw a little boy kicking his shoes into the air. I didn’t think much of it.
A few minutes later, an angry mother stomped up to me saying Tucker had her son’s shoes. Of course I went to find Tucker to dissect the situation. Long story short, it was a case of boys being boys, a big brother sticking up for a little brother, and not at all a big deal, but this lady took it personally and then made it personal against me. Tucker didn’t have the shoes but she couldn’t accept that her kid had been throwing his shoes off his feet, and so she was yelling at my son, yelling at me, calling me names, and at the end of it, she decided to add that I am a terrible mother with no abilities to control my children. Her last words were the ones that really angered me. She said “everyone in Rockdale knows how your kids are.”
Only God knows the amount of restraint it took for me to walk away. She doesn’t know me, she doesn’t know my kids, and she has no clue what we’ve been through or how hard we have fought to become a normal “go to the game on Friday night” kind of family. Every since I adopted my youngest kids I have had to deal with stares, rumors, lies, and the loss of friends, but this time it really stung my heart to hear someone say the things she was saying. Then I decided to see the victory in the moment. Tucker stuck up for his little brother, and if that was wrong, well I am glad he wasn’t right. Brotherly love will take us much further than any pair of shoes.
For whatever reason, I have had a hard time letting that incident go this weekend. I replayed her words in my head over and over all night, wishing I had just spewed every thought in my mind. The grown up in me knew better than to make a scene, but the mama bear in me wanted to show my claws. Perhaps that is why Saturday was just as rotten. We hit the string of football games that are the Saturday morning routine around here. My little flag players lost by 3 points due to some questionable time clock practices. Then the JV game was lost. I can’t say that one had anything to do with cheating, but I can say it made for an unhappy son. Then we headed to the varsity game. I stood at the concession stand with all my little ones. I dished out $14 for Frito pies and nachos and we headed to the bleachers.
Then my little girl ran over to say hi to one of her friends, and low and behold, that same mother stood there, staring at me. My mind was racing. Should I try to discuss the incident with her? Should I pretend it never happened? I can’t deny the crazy voice inside of me that wanted to scream obscenities and rip her hair out for putting my children down, but I knew whatever choice I made is the choice these little people looking up to me will make, so I decided to turn the other cheek and go watch #72 get some tackles under his belt. Just as I took the next step, my brain still over-thinking, I was lucky enough to take a mighty fall.
Good ole neuropathy and numb feet! I stepped down, and my foot gave out, and the next think I knew a bolt went through my skin. My knee cap was split wide open. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t cry. I wanted to scream, but I didn’t want to scare my little people. So, I sat there grinding my teeth. A few people tried to help. I wanted to die when they called an ambulance. Luckily my husband and my son beat the ambulance and they picked me up and took me to the emergency room where I managed to get a few stitches, a tetanus shot, and a pair of crutches.
And now it’s Sunday, and my knee is throbbing. I can barely walk. My pain medicine isn’t helping much and I almost peed my pants trying to maneuver crutches into my tiny little bathroom. Daddy’s been in charge all day, so the house is destroyed. Spilled juice on a blanket fort has the laundry room looking like a hurricane blew down the hall. He tried to have a fish fry, but that didn’t work out too well either. Apparently the fish was older than he remembered. So here I am, looking for the silver linings like I always do.
So far, I’ve found 3 positives. 1- the kid at Chicken Express hooked the kids up with a few extras and dinner was salvaged. 2- even though I haven’t had the chance to crank it up, apparently my Yukon is on the road again (we’ll save the missing radio for another blog). And 3- my so-called bad children that are apparently the talk of the town have spent the day refilling my drink and tucking me in. So even though I’m ready for this weekend to be over, I will start Monday with the best blessing I could ask for…. a house full of chaotic little munchkins that make this world go ’round. Even if they did have something to do with those missing shoes, I think they’re the cat’s meow!