One consequence of Team WestEnders moving to North Carolina was that we ended up being more or less midway between Husband's parents and my family (or, much more colorfully, "smack dab in the middle" as my mother would have phrased it). This has turned out to be helpful, as my in-laws have experienced some health issues in recent years, and therefore it falls on their only child—yep, you can guess who—to go down to the other Carolina and whip them back into shape…I mean “tend to their needs while they recover”.
This time it was his mom's turn in the rotation; her doctor decided--based on her failing energy, among other symptoms--that the time had come for her to have open heart surgery to replace a deteriorating mitral valve. Thus Husband packed up and headed south for an extended episode of…Camp Caregiving. I tell ya, considering the promise of countless super-fun hours spent in the hospital, providing company for his mother during her multi-day stay, on top of the colossal task of keeping his father in line…not to mention herding their two aging pet cats…I’m beginning to think I got off easy, taking on the Single Parent role for a week and a half.
Speaking of which, we held quite the Strategy Pow Wow before Husband vamoosed, to brainstorm ways in which I could, I don’t know…clone myself? Apparate kids to activities? Chuck it all and tell everyone they were grounded for the week, so I didn’t have to deal with the logistics? That last one honestly sounded most appealing—but resigned myself to going with Plan B: on Tuesday, when they both needed to be somewhere local (but at the exact same time) drop Derek off first, then whisk Riley over to join up with his team already in progress. Then remain with Riley until his session ends, and head back to pick Derek up late.
Wednesday would be much easier, as only Derek had a scheduled workout. Thursday, however, was the bugaboo, with Riley nearby, but Derek at a distant stadium. So I had no choice but to make an Executive Decision, that Riley would attend his training, and Derek would miss his (which should be fine, as he would have gotten to 2 out of 3. This represents a fantastic batting average…and also a perfectly acceptable Mom Organizational Rating. If I do say so myself…)
With this all figured out…ish…we still had one thunderous black cloud looming over the household: that’s right, I’m talking about DINNER. Now, normally Husband throws together the evening meal (bless his little pea pickin’ heart), but with him gone, the chowhounds—um “beloved sons”—still seem intent on eating every single night. (Dang it!) And with all the soccer-ing and…whatnot…there just isn’t time for nonsense like cooking. So I thought carefully (yeah, for about, oh, 5 minutes) and planned a delightful menu that offered such tasty options as: “sandwiches”….”ramen noodles”…and “frozen chicken patties”. Mmm...yummy... (Hey, the way I look at it, I’m just preparing them for college, right?)
And then, wouldn’t you know it, the whole shebang just went right out the window, thanks to the vagaries of Mother Nature…and some nasty bacteria. You see, on Tuesday it rained hard enough that both practices were canceled. Subsequently, Derek’s coach emailed everyone that he couldn’t hold workouts Wednesday and Thursday due to having been diagnosed with strep throat. And today? More downpours, meaning the fields that were still under water from earlier in the week got even swampier and less playable.
Huh. Well, driving-wise, I’m not complaining, that’s for sure. But the boys did still require feeding…which is why, starting tomorrow, I’m declaring that Mother’s Day…Weekend…has officially begun. What this means, primarily, is that we will be obtaining our suppers via the magic and wonder of takeout, Friday through Sunday nights. In lieu of cards and flowers, I'd say that’s a gift I can truly use (even if it’s my credit card that’s making it happen—whatever!)