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!)
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