The Week I Couldn't Win

At some point in time I think you just learn that you can’t control everything. For me this become apparent after having Jack but really became something I couldn’t ignore after having Joey. I tried my best to keep on top of schedules and daily things and some days that worked great. Others, not so much.

Even my best planned days and weeks end up in the shitter every now and then. This past week was no exception.

Monday concluded with the boys and I at the doctor’s office getting a diagnosis of Pertussis. For those of you who have no idea what Pertussis is, it is Whooping Cough. Delightful.

Since my kids weren’t “whooping” just hacking and coughing I wasn’t too worried. I guess because they were vaccinated for Pertussis they had a milder case and no “whoop.” Yay for shots!

I thought the coughs they had been hanging on to had to do with their forever snotty, runny noses. Apparently not. After a couple of prescriptions for a round of antibiotics and a regime of breathing treatments we were on our way. That led us to a sleepless night and dozing to the lull of the nebulizer.

By Wednesday I felt like we had a better handle on things and decided to drag Joey along to Jack’s swim lesson and then to the play area at the Y so I could workout. No sooner is Jack in swim trunks waiting to get in the water and Joey projectile vomits all over the lobby / swim lesson viewing area of the YMCA. This happens to be right in the middle of the evening rush. Fabulous.

I felt horrible for poor Joey who didn’t really even seem to mind the fact that he was covered in puke. I, however, was embarrassed. I was the Mom with the kid who pukes in public. Fantastic.

I could tell I was not going to win this week.

Thankfully after only one additional round of vomit, Joey was recovered. He was still awake all night begging for chocolate milk. I am not sure how you explain to a two year old the fact that they just heaved all over at the YMCA equals no chance in hell of having any sort of dairy product, especially not chocolate milk. This debate went on all night long.

From Thursday on I have been living in fear of the flu. It is one of those things you are just certain will strike another one within the family at any moment. I have asked Jack if his tummy hurts approximately 3,489 times per day, since Wednesday.

Needless to say he thinks I am a complete whack job. He is totally right.

Things got a little better (minus the sleep since Joey thinks sleeping with us while KICKING US ALL NIGHT LONG is comfortable) and we did the Y Halloween Party (yes, I showed my face there again and even brought my puke-monster with me. Only one family recognized us and looked at us with horror written all over their faces before quickly scurrying the other way.)

We make it through the end of the week and yesterday morning I am just getting out of the shower and simultaneously shagging the boys in to the tub and the phone rings. It was my neighbor calling to tell me the banging at my door was the police. They are in my front yard and they have my dog, Zoe.

I am so confused since I never heard any banging while in the shower and Jason apparently never heard any banging with the music blaring upstairs while he was painting.

Now, for those of you that don’t know my dog is a Rottweiler. She is also as loved by my family as if she were a kid. She is the sweetest, most well behaved dog I have ever known. She is always good, not only to us, but to strangers and children and other animals. She wins the best dog ever award. Hands down.

So, back to the police. I throw open the front door and run out on the porch to be greeted by two cops and my dog in the front yard.

I am in my bathrobe with a towel on my head. Another quick reminder that I have no control of what occurs around me. My life owns me.

I realize I am only wearing my bathrobe after I am out on to the porch and the police officers are looking at me strangely and laughing at me. I know, the jokes on me.

They inform me that someone called them because my dog was out. I was so confused because although she was out, she has never left our yard. We have a fenced back yard but rarely have the gate closed because she doesn’t leave. Truthfully, she is 10 years old and has a bad leg so we are lucky she walks from the house to the backyard to pee.

Again, I am confused. I ask where they found her and they said she was lying in my driveway. I ask if she scared someone (she is big and can look scary, I get that) and they said she didn’t bark, growl or even get up. She was just out.

It is at this point in the conversation, that is occurring while I am STILL outside on my front porch in my bathrobe, a short bath robe mind you, with a towel on my head, that one of the cops sits down in the yard and begins loving on my dog who is so, so happy to get the attention.

One of the cops just lost his Rottie a year ago and the other tells me she has never met such a sweet dog…and on and on they go. Never mind the fact that I am in my bathrobe on a busy street! Let’s talk all day!

They were extremely friendly and needless to say left without any problems after meeting Zoe. They even apologized for dragging me out in my robe.

Hanging out half-naked on the porch with the police and my Rottweiler is always a nice way to start a Sunday morning.

I am still frustrated that someone called the police on me because my dog was sleeping in my driveway on my property. People judge us because of the breed of dog we have. They assume she is a baby-eating attack dog. I assume they are ignorant assholes. 

The final score for the week, in case you lost count was:
Week = Too many to count.  Me = Zero.

Trying for a win this week.


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