Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Mother, May I?

This last weekend - which sounds so far away rather than just two days ago - I was around my mother. My motha. I know, right? We'll just give this as a testimony to God's ability to pin me to the mat, deal with some issues, and move on. Because how else can you explain this?

I get an email from my dad who all but begging me to come up and babysit my mom. Dude is still selling BBQ sauce and again, I can't link to it because I really don't want anyone to link back to this blog and put two and two together, because funny thing about that? It always equals four.

Like, every time.

I guess he overbooked himself and mom was going to be by herself, selling BBQ sauce, in 90 degree heat. I just re-read that sentence and I cracked up laughing all over again. I told you people, my life is stranger than fiction. How can I even say this with a straight face? Oh, that's right. I'm not. I'm laughing.

Long story short, there was some pleading/begging. Last time my mom was out in 90 degree weather, she had a seizure which was on the heels of her having a stroke. Naturally, dad was a bit worried about leaving her by herself.

When I received this email, I looked over at my people and knew - KNEW I was out of luck. I casually tossed out this information and sure as day, a lot of 'sucks to be her' and 'good luck with that' comments was tossed right back. I didn't want to do this. I could think of 20 other things I would rather do and washing out the garbage pail ranked higher.

There I was, dangling between not wanting to and feeling this sort of odd sense of ought, when Jared, sweet Jared, piped up that he would come with me. He thought it was fun selling sauce and, no offense to me, I didn't know how it was to be done. I left off that I had to pedal my own pond water at his age thanks to all the school fund raisers, but didn't want to rock the boat and took his gracious offer.

Saturday morning arrived and out the door the two of us went. I was rather impressed on how we hustled to get there until I realized that Indiana is a bit more laid back about the speed limit. It seems to be a slight suggestion, but don't go all crazy like barreling down the road, which is night and day different from Michigan that would pull you over if they even thought you were thinking about going over the speed limit. I was over but was getting passed by semi trucks and handicap plated vehicles when I decided to just forget the cruise control and go with the flow of traffic.

Worked out fine but noticed that on the way back the flow was no where near as aggressive so had to scale back accordingly. I'm pretty sure the guys won't find this in any section of their driver's manual. I'm trying to figure out when to introduce that line of logic.

So we got to mom's, grabbed her and were on our way. We were talking away and driving along when I started blurting out "I recognized that sign!! Grandma used to work across the street, didn't she?" "Hey! They still have that building up?!?" on and on this went much to the amazement of my mom and myself. I'm pretty sure the last time I was by any of this, I was 7.

It was sort of odd because I've been struggling to feel like where the heck do I belong? I never felt like Michigan was home because it wasn't, and Indy is such a big city that it overwhelms me. I've noticed that I make no effort to reach out to people at church. I'm friendly but that's about it. I think a part of me is wondering if this is just another blimp on the road. Goodness knows, I'm trying really hard to forget the past year. So to have stuff float up from my childhood just sort of makes me get weepy for reasons I don't understand. Naturally, I handled this all mature like by shoving it aside and focusing on the task at hand.

Like how did I get roped into this anyway?

Thankfully, all their stuff was already set up. They forgot there was a parade, so we had to go way down the country road and come way back across and ended up being at the tail end of the parade and slowly crept along to get to the vending area.

It was hot. Jared did a great job. I didn't sell jack but also made no effort. I got to see a different aunt and gabbed at her for a bit, and then ran and got food/drinks, and kept my mom from getting over heated. I'm not sure when my dad got there. He was there when we came back with lemon shake ups and elephant ears. Hung out and waited for J to give me the look and then I would use that as my escape.

He never gave me the look. Dang it.

We ended up staying until closing time - 8 pm - and loaded up their van for them. We got in our vehicle, cranked the air conditioner and after 5 minutes, dude feel asleep. Well, okay then. Made my GPS have a fit because I had to pee since like noon but there was no way I was going to use a porta-potty. I deviated from her path, found a bathroom and spent a good few minutes thanking the Lord for indoor plumbing. Made it home and forced J to take a shower.

Insider tip - teenagers, especially early teenagers, are allergic to showering and/or bathing and possibly all sense of grooming. The older 2 are finally starting to realize that soap is their friend but I credit that to the fact that they have to shave on a regular basis or they about itch their face off. I see it as a win.

We got up the next day, went to church, grabbed some lunch, and went and saw the Superman movie. It turned out better than what I thought. I had no expectations for it and it turned out pretty good.

So that was that. I spent Monday doing laundry, listening to a sneak peak to Skillet's new album (love) and looking up renters rights and finding numbers for the health department. So when I call to threaten? I have my information at hand. Because the issues have not been dealt with and I was beyond annoyed. I'm about ready to put the hurt on someone. And that is strong talk for me because, really, I just rant and rave and do nothing about it. I don't know if spending the day with my mom did it or what my deal was but I woke up with war paint on and everything. So unlike me. Normally, I would be on my second batch of eggs from all the clucking and feather wringing.

No a/c, downstairs bathroom now has mold growing on the walls because it was supposed to get replaced months ago, dishwasher isn't working, and the drain is more moodier than I am. How is that even possible?!? Seriously. How can a drain back up for like 3 days and then make the mother of all drain noises where you are convinced some creature from the underworld is trying to crawl through the pipes, only to have everything back to draining just fine?

And Fred wonders why I'm a bit cranky.

So Fred called property manager, promises were made of phone calls setting time in mud because stone is just waaay too permanent and we can't be having that, now can we? But my mind was already a-whirling because angst was in full force and wasn't ready to go away. I had practiced my threats, because I can't do that on the fly, all planned out if said phone call didn't happen.


Phone call happened but it's only for the contractor to deal with moldy basement but no a/c. I was fit to be tide. And I don't even know exactly what that means. I had to spend an hour trying to figure out what to say because once you toss out violation of Indiana code and possible lawyer involvement, I'm pretty sure there is no going back.

I sat there and prayed, fumed, clucked fussed, prayed some more, practice my threats until I had it settled in my mind. Pulled on my big girl panties, strapped on my kick-some-@$$ boots, and mashed out the numbers on my phone.


Deep breath


Forgot to breathe


Tried to get caught up on my breathing, so I didn't sound like I ran up a flight of stairs


Oh good, it's going to go to voice mail - this will be an epic smack down threat


Get it together



Said who I was and apologies ensued forth, saying their maintenance guys are handling it but they aren't the most with it group and should be there within the next couple hours.


What can you say to that? Other than my true chicken self rose to the surface like the Phoenix of yore, enabling me to sputter out, "I don't mean to be a jerk but there was some slight confusion."

My big girl panties started to ride up my own booty chanting "Cluck, cluck, cluck!"

Honestly, I didn't realize I was such a sucker for a southern drawl telling me, "I'm so sorry ma'am, you wouldn't believe how messed up everything has been these last couple months and I promise you that you will have a/c no later than the end of the week and hopefully a new bathroom as well."

I knew I was a chicken and hated unplanned confrontation. God help you if I've had to time think about it, plan what I want to say and what points I want to get across, because I can bring it when I've had time to plan. But even I saw the wisdom of backing down the guns and not taking such drastic tactics.

My mother would be so disappointed, because her panties apparently tell her to do it as big, bad, and as drastic as possible. And it would have been done a month ago. I wonder where she shops for her panties because mine just have a bunch of feathers sticking out of them.


Julie said...

You seriously cannot make this stuff up! *lol*

Hope you had "fun" helping your mom!