{"id":11912,"date":"2015-02-28T19:56:31","date_gmt":"2015-03-01T02:56:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/?p=11912"},"modified":"2015-03-18T18:49:14","modified_gmt":"2015-03-19T01:49:14","slug":"rock-bottom","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/?p=11912","title":{"rendered":"Rock Bottom."},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>Well, the massive forced housecleaning killed a day.\u00a0 And put an end to the sibling bickering for 8 hours.\u00a0 Because nothing unites children like a common enemy: Mom.\u00a0 Which was fine.\u00a0 Since I ended up with clean windows and sills, sparkling bathrooms, fresh sheets on every bed in the house, and every last picture frame and knick knack dusted.\u00a0 I’m not saying that I didn’t have to send them back 3<\/span> 4<\/span> 8<\/span> a few times to do the job right.\u00a0 Or that I didn’t have to go behind them and touch up some of it.\u00a0 But once the chores were finished, there was blessed quiet for the rest of the day.\u00a0 Amen.<\/p>\n

Then the snow arrived and sibling rivalry was left behind in the excitement, alliances were again forged in the creative process, friendships rekindled over the snow fire pit.\u00a0 But with the power out, the wet laundry piled up, slushy mud spread across the floors, dirty dishes filled the sink, and electronic appliances lost their charge.\u00a0 The generator roared into life and The Other Half alternated between yelling at us for opening the fridge door (letting the cold out) and yelling at us for opening the front door without immediately closing it behind us (letting the cold in).\u00a0 I made lots of loud heavy sighs as wet boots traipsed through the family room and loud angry tsk tsk’s whenever I found a melted pile of muddy water upstairs in the den or on the staircase.<\/p>\n

Roads were snowy, then cleared, then icy, then cleared, then snow was forecast again.\u00a0 And school was delayed.\u00a0 Then canceled.\u00a0 Then make-up days were scheduled.\u00a0 Then canceled.<\/p>\n

Oh mah gawd.<\/p>\n

Thank goodness I am a morning person because the only calm existed in the 2 hours that I took to sip my coffee, clear the counters, sweep the floor, and ignore the barn chores while the kids slept in.\u00a0 Eventually the kids rolled downstairs, hungover from staying up all hours of the night after a dinner of Ramen noodles, cinnamon squares cereal, and Food Lion brand Munchie mix, each child grumpier than the next.\u00a0 I quickly headed outside, trying to stretch out my remaining minutes of tranquility.\u00a0 But before I even opened the deck door and stepped back inside I could hear the rumblings of discontent.\u00a0 By “rumblings” I mean the sounds of kids rolling around on the floor in the den trying snatch out each other’s hair or manage a successful solar plexus kick.<\/p>\n

With the generator running, we could cook and with The Other Half gone to work we could open the fridge to get at the food we stocked up on before the storm.\u00a0 But we made a trip to town anyway.\u00a0 Because the roads were perfectly clear.\u00a0 Because we had to get out of the house.\u00a0 Because we were running low on….um,….let’s see….we really needed…. um,….birdseed, yeah, birdseed, and so we went to WalMart for some more.\u00a0 The birdseed shelves were almost empty, people.\u00a0 Empty.\u00a0 I stood staring at the only remaining choice for bird seed, $15 bags of Pennington Ultra Waste Free (yeah, right) blend.\u00a0 I took heart in that empty aisle.<\/p>\n

We’re not the only ones, I thought.\u00a0 All over town, parents were obviously making a birdseed run in order to keep their children from killing each other.\u00a0 Or keep themselves from killing their children.\u00a0 Whichever.<\/p>\n

I was not alone.<\/p>\n

A few hours after we got home, a man in a coveralls braved our slew of barking dogs, smirked at our snow mermaid (Mermaids are innocent creatures of the sea, people.\u00a0 Innocent, I say.), and knocked on the door to let us know we could turn off the generator.\u00a0 The power was finally restored.\u00a0 The kids immediately immersed themselves in the DVD players scattered throughout the house and I began the arduous process of restoring order to the piles of dirty laundry and overflowing sink.\u00a0 But peace was not restored along with the power.\u00a0 The kids circled through silence amidst the raging of the television to “Stop touching me!”\/”Get away from me!”\/ “I was watching that!” to the grunts and thuds of wrestling and all-out physical war fare.\u00a0 The girl took to her room with her laptop.\u00a0 I would have joined her, but she locked the door.\u00a0 Between trips to the dishwasher, the washer and dryer, and over the roar of the vacuum I shouted randomly, “KNOCK IT OFF!!!!!”\u00a0 After 15 years of parenting and 2 weeks of snow days, that’s all I could summon.\u00a0 I didn’t have a craft, a card game, or a consoling word left in me.<\/p>\n

I was huddled in the mud room, with my uniform and boots in my hands, whispering to myself, “I get to go to work tomorrow.\u00a0 I get to go to work tomorrow.\u00a0 I get to….” when the phone rang.\u00a0 It was the county parks & rec department.\u00a0 They were calling to notify us that the U12 boys semi-finals basketball tournament would go on as scheduled that night.\u00a0 Huh.\u00a0 The county felt that cleared roads and sunny skies were unsafe for school but black ice after dark was just fine for basketball.\u00a0 Sports are important, people.\u00a0 School is just, you know….school.<\/p>\n

I rallied.\u00a0 Middle would need a healthy dinner before his game.\u00a0 I could do this.\u00a0 Probably.\u00a0 Maybe.\u00a0 Eh.\u00a0 I checked the fridge, but leftovers that had been warmed and cooled for 2 days seemed iffy.\u00a0 I pulled hot dogs out of the freezer and emptied the fruit drawer.\u00a0 Half-healthy would have to do.\u00a0 We didn’t have any hot dog buns and I didn’t want to make another trip to WalMart.\u00a0 As a matter of fact I didn’t want to make a trip anywhere before changing out of my cleaning clothes and having a nice, hot shower.\u00a0 But this was important.\u00a0 This was sports, people.\u00a0 Sports! \u00a0 I threw on a pair of flip flops with my bleach-stained capris and mustard yellow sweatshirt with a big black stain over the left breast.\u00a0 I did put on a bra.\u00a0 Because not wearing a bra while driving in town is like begging the Fates to shove your car into a ditch right in front of the church.\u00a0 I dug some cash out of the bottom of my purse, loaded Middle and Little into the car, and made a speedy trip to the country grocery store.<\/p>\n

If you live in the country, you may still have one of these grocery stores in your area.\u00a0 Ours is an old brick building with a few gas pumps out front and a slew of cigarette signs covering the front windows.\u00a0 Inside, the products still have price stickers on them.\u00a0 Price stickers<\/em>, changed by hand<\/em>, not UPCs.\u00a0 There are local vegetables, hoop cheese, and cuts of meat like hogs feet and chitlins.\u00a0 Signs for deer processing hang in the butcher department.\u00a0 The aisles are short and the national brand choices are limited, but they definitely have hot dog buns.\u00a0 And there’s an extra bonus.\u00a0 The country grocery store is the type of place where you can keep your flip flops and cleaning clothes butt in the car, send in a 10 year old and 12 year old with a handful of cash for 2 packs of hot dog buns, and no one bats an eye or cocks a concerned eyebrow.\u00a0 No one calls child protective services or asks the child, “Where’s your mommy and is she on crack?”\u00a0 No Code Adam.\u00a0 No disapproving stares.<\/p>\n

As a matter of fact, as the boys exited with their bags of buns I noticed another mother sitting in the driver’s seat of the car next to me.\u00a0 She smiled and nodded.\u00a0 I’m not sure what she sent her kid in to buy.\u00a0 But I’m pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a bra.\u00a0 Brave woman.\u00a0 Brave, brave woman.<\/p>\n

As we drove home, Little asked what we were having with the hot dogs.<\/p>\n

“Fruit,”\u00a0 I said.\u00a0 “We’ve got grapes and apples in the fridge.”<\/p>\n

“Oh,” he said wistfully, ” I sure wish we could have fruit salad.\u00a0 You know, where you cut up the apples and grapes and add those mandarin oranges.\u00a0 I sure do love that fruit salad.”<\/p>\n

Is there no end?<\/em><\/strong> No end at all?! <\/em><\/strong> I mean, I took them out for birdseed!\u00a0 We are going to the basketball tournament!\u00a0 I am making a kind of, sort of, halfway healthy dinner!\u00a0 Now the fruit needs to be cut up and made into a fruit salad<\/em>??!!\u00a0 Why don’t you kids just suck my spirit dry and hang my husk out for the vultures??!!!<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

I didn’t make the fruit salad just because it was Little that asked me.\u00a0 He doesn’t get special treatment around here because he’s the baby.\u00a0 Not at all.\u00a0 It wasn’t the sweet, yearning look on his witty, bitty adorable baby face.\u00a0 Not really.\u00a0 No, it’s just that I have been cutting up fruit for so many, many years.\u00a0 72.6% of parenting is cutting up fruit for your children.\u00a0 I sighed as I began slicing the apples.\u00a0 I have hit rock bottom, I thought.\u00a0 When making fruit salad to go with boiled hot dogs saps the last of my parenting energy, I have really hit rock bottom.\u00a0 Also, I should invest in canned fruit cocktail.\u00a0 Just in case of emergency.\u00a0 Or 3 weeks of snow days.<\/p>\n

I turned on the news to remind myself that cutting up fresh fruit during a snowstorm is a First World problem.\u00a0 And I stopped dead.\u00a0 Because the meteorologist was forecasting a day in the 60’s next week.\u00a0 Maybe up to 70 degrees.\u00a0 One day in the 60’s sandwiched between sleet and rain and freezing night time temperatures.\u00a0 But still.\u00a0 Maybe up to 70 degrees.\u00a0 There might be one day of school next week.
\n<\/em><\/p>\n

We’re going to make it, people.\u00a0 We’re going to make it.<\/p>\n

And after a rousing, well-played game of basketball, Middle’s team moved on the finals.\u00a0 Excellent work, Middle!\u00a0 The finals will be probably be held next week regardless of sleet, rain, or freezing temperatures.\u00a0 Because, I mean, really.\u00a0 Basketball.<\/p>\n

Plus, after the basketball game the kids went to Grandma and Grandpa’s house so that tomorrow, after doing the barn chores at 4am, I can go to work.\u00a0 I am going to work!\u00a0 Without my kids!\u00a0 For 24 hours!!!!<\/p>\n

It just goes to show you.\u00a0 It’s true what they say.\u00a0 Once you hit rock bottom, there’s no place to go but up.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Well, the massive forced housecleaning killed a day.\u00a0 And put an end to the sibling bickering for 8 hours.\u00a0 Because nothing unites children like a common enemy: Mom.\u00a0 Which was fine.\u00a0 Since I ended up with clean windows and sills, sparkling bathrooms, fresh sheets on every bed in the house, and every last picture frame […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-11912","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11912","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=11912"}],"version-history":[{"count":26,"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11912\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11988,"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11912\/revisions\/11988"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=11912"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=11912"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ruffledfeathersandspilledmilk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=11912"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}