First rewarding activity worth mentioning was the search through my entire house for Eden's favorite stuffed animal named Ella ALL DAY LONG, OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN, ENDLESSLY, TIRELESSLY, UNTIL MY HAMSTRING CRAMPED FROM OVER-EXERTION.
According to Eden, she CANNOT sleep without Ella dog. I searched the car. I lifted our two ton couch using the World's Strongest Man technique. I combed through hampers, our basement, under Remi's bed. I called the restaurant. I looked through our garbage's, begged the dogs to promise not to have eaten her, checked showers, excavated closets and searched our swing set tree house with a flashlight. No Ella dog. I could kill Ella dog if only I could find Ella dog. I could strangle Ella dog for being the only $1.99 dog on the clearance shelf of Michaels -- once and never sold again. I could torture myself for an eternity for ever buying Ella dog. She has no replacement, no substitute. No stand in for Jennifer Aniston here. It's Ella dog or bust. I busted.
At the same moment yesterday I realized I was out of milk and out of Cheerios. For my son Chad, this equates to intentional child abuse and neglect wrapped up in a nice package of "worst parent ever!" I deserve to be punished. There is no milk alternative and without Cheerios my son Chad will quickly starve to death. His blood type is CH positive. This stands for blood packed with cells that don't contain DNA material but instead CHeese and CHeerio matter.
Cheerios and water? Doesn't work. Cheerios and orange juice? A sure fire recipe for a vomitpalooza. Odwalla smoothie and chocolate chip cookies? No milk? Not quite. Chocolate apple juice instead of chocolate milk? Never. Sure honey, I'll have some Pellegrino in my coffee with a Splenda.
Milk is the fuel my house functions on daily. My house without milk is like a car without gas. My house without milk is like flying to Mexico without a passport. My son without milk and Cheerios becomes the "incredible child hulk," mean, nasty and downright irrational. I had to take care of the Hulk yesterday until I got milk and Cheerios back into his system. The damage was already done.
One dog left me a poop package in our den. My male child left me urine on every toilet bowl and seat he used all day long. I also found a poop in our purple bathroom toilet but no toilet paper? Sit on that one for a minute...
Back and forth to tennis four times. Laughed very hard when after tennis Remi asked me to rub the "Galactic acid" out of her sore back muscles. Squeezed in a photo shoot at the beach for a friend. Tripped on the rocks at the beach and gnarled up the arch of my left foot. Cleaned the house every fifteen minutes for 24 hours -- still no Ella dog. Needed to load and unload and reload the dishwasher twice. Broke a bottle of Canadian ice wine on our kitchen floor with three barefoot children within 3 feet of its shattered perimeter. For a split second I actually thought about licking it up off the floor to take the edge off. I bathed the kids and wish I could say the same for myself. 24 hours ago, I put a jug of Poland Spring water into the fridge only to find out it had a slow leak after it bloated every item of food in its drippy path.
Where was Todd while I was running my mommy marathon? Todd was in Brooklyn preparing for a literal marathon, with my blessing. Today, Todd ran the inaugural Brooklyn marathon and we cheered him on with a vengeance. The kids and I cheered so loud my vocal chords checked themselves into a sanitarium. Why? I was proud to see him finish another race and even more excited that my 24 hour solo 26.2 mile trek concluded at the same time Todd crossed the finish line.
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