By 

No words for the last seven days


I have no words for the last seven days. There are no explitives to adequately describe that week sufficiently. None! Just a damn hot mess!

Day one: Get a call from school nurse regarding head-to-head collision involving my son. Call specialist. Ex says do not take him, that he needs to toughen up. Find out my kid was jumped, and the head he banged was one of the kids holding him down, and head hit after Boo was punched. FIFTH FUCKING GRADE, y’all!

Day two: School district has ruled this is an assault, and they will be filing a police report. The kid guilty of the assault has been suspended. Rumors begin to soar.

Day three: All is calm, and I get a lot done regarding Diva’s party plans this weekend. I get Boo from school, and FOUR kids rush him in the gymnasium before classes began to tell him we better not press charges, and that if their friend goes to juvenile detention, they will make my son pay the price. Aww. Hell. No. Those little bitches better be more worried about themselves after I get through with them!

Day four: I keep Boo home until the school can put safegards in place for my son, and yesterday’s request for another district investigation will be completed, and parent/principal meeting set for 1:00 PM. Diva’s party at the park was postponed till next week because, well, at that point, my nerves were shot to hell. Especially after having to talk to Detective McCaully for half an hour, too. We go to the park, just so I can chat with my mom friends and let the kids play for half an hour.

Day five: Hub’s family comes up to celebrate Diva turning five! It was spectacular! I’m awesome, what can I say? Even without a sewing machine, I made her a Moana costume, and transformed the house into a luau!

Day six: Mother’s day. It was a mother, alright. Hubs wasn’t feeling great. It was really horrible – not because I didn’t get any gifts, but because I was so swollen and sore from entertaining the day before, and the adrenaline that had kept me going the previous 5 days was gone, and I’d gotten roughly 10 hours of sleep all week. Boo made me breakfast in bed. He was aiming for incredible, but please, don’t ever put cilantro and basil in your eggs; Too much.  But, I ate them because he is the best. Diva clogged the toilet with about a roll of toilet paper. So. Not. Happy!

Day seven: I shell out $200 to fix the toilet. Beyond angry. And the level of exhaustion I have achieved is unbelievable. I hurt all over. I make an appointment to see my doctor tomorrow. I get on Facebook to see that a current friend that I also knew in high school had passed away. I was heartbroken! We have prayed for her every since last fall when the (triple negative breast) cancer came back after being in remission 8 years. Then a few months ago finding out it had mastethized in her brain. None of us ever thought this would be the end, we all surrounded her with hope and support. She’d beat it before. She’ll beat it again. I guess we were all wrong. I fucking hate cancer! I want my friend to have more years with her family. I want her students to have more time with their favorite teacher. And, in case I wasn’t an emotional wreck already, my baby will be 5 when she wakes up tomorrow, starting summer school in a matter of weeks, and I’m just not ready!

I’m not ready to deal with bullies. I’m not ready to waste money. I’m not ready to say goodbye to my friend. I’m not ready to deal with the police. I’m not ready to say goodbye to my little girl and send her to school. I’m not ready for my son to finish elementary school. I’m not ready for middle School. I’m just not ready. And that is life. We are never ready for it; we have to deal with life with as much grace as possible. We all know I’m about as graceful as a bull in a china shop, so this next phase of my life should prove interesting.

My poor back muscles are pulled, and the arthritis in my back, hips, hands, and knees is seriously kicking my ass! I can’t sleep because the pain wakes me up. The stress is about to give me a stroke, and my kids need me, and I need them, too. Life’s an endless cacophony, and it’s all any of us can do to just find a familiar tune woven in there from time-to-time to get us through, and occasionally, you hear all the right sounds to form a brilliant melody. That’s what it’s all about, right?!

Find your peace. Get your happy. Take no prisoners!

Peace, y’all.

HotMess
About me

Ever wonder what it’s like to be a southern hot mess? Join me as I slam through life like a bull in a china shop. It’s better if you just go with it.

YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE

SouthernHotMess
FML Part II
July 22, 2017
Found My Zen
July 22, 2017
southern hot mess
Oh, and bacon!
June 04, 2017
Zero Control
May 31, 2017
OCD southern hot mess
What I don’t say
May 24, 2017
Southern hot mess
Third Row Problem
April 10, 2017
Some wounds don’t heal
March 14, 2017
I love my friends
November 03, 2016
southern hot mess
Southern. Hot. Mess.
November 01, 2016

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *