Last week was a doozy. Steve was out of town. The kids took turns not sleeping. I swear they got together and planned their wakings so that I never logged more than three hours of sleep per night. Tantrums and bickering were at an all-time high.
Cheetah is usually pretty chill, but even her temperament leaned toward ornery. She went missing one night after I took the trash out. (I must not have closed the door all the way behind me.) I didn’t notice until hours later when I went to feed her and she didn’t come running. It was late and the kids were already in bed. I expected to find her sitting outside the back door but she wasn’t there. I quickly slipped on the first pair of shoes I could find (Layne’s high tops), grabbed a spotlight and locked up the house. I jumped in the car and drove around the block with the window down yelling, “Cheeeeetaaaaaaah.” About three-quarters of the way around the block, I spotted two glowing eyes and gray fur peeking out from under some bushes near a house. Cheetah! I pulled into the unsuspecting homeowners’ driveway, dimmed the headlights and sprinted towards the house. I was on my belly reaching into the bush for my cat when I came face-to-face with a opossum. “OH $#@*!!” Abort, abort! It’s funny now but I was totally freaked out at the time.
Eventually, I did find Cheetah in a neighbor’s fenced backyard. The house had recently sold and, luckily, was unoccupied when I slipped through the gate to retrieve my cat. Can you imagine the first impression I would have made if the new homeowners had been there?! Crazy trespassing cat lady in her pajamas and Air Jordans.
Not surprisingly, I came down with a fever, chills and extreme fatigue Thursday evening. I was so weak I collapsed on the couch and told the kids they were going to have to put themselves to bed. The mom guilt! I drifted in and out of consciousness while Layne helped Mabrey change into her pajamas, brushed her teeth, read her a book and tucked her into bed. The boys sat quietly at the kitchen island drawing for a while. During a foggy moment of awareness I heard Everett say, “I love Mom. I hope she makes it through the night.” I laughed on the inside. They readied themselves for bed, gave me hugs and went to bed with nary a complaint. It was probably the least dramatic bedtime in our house in the last few months. I thought, “Huh, maybe I’m raising decent human beings after all.”
A few links…
*Steve made paleo jerk chicken in the crockpot for the game on Sunday. So easy, so yummy.
*A brass tripod floor lamp on sale!
*A tiny bathroom makeover. (Love the lil’ gold lever on the toilet.)
*This affordable rag rug is popping up all over the place. For good reason!
May your kiddos and kitties be well-behaved this week ;)
images: 1 & 2) Dana Miller for House*Tweaking 3 & 4) Bridget Ambrose
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