If you know any moms, you have probably heard at least one of them say, "I hardly have time to shower!", or something along those lines. It seems to be a fairly cliche mom line. I don't know if it's true or not for these moms, who like to say it with that happy knowing mom laugh.
When I had the kids in school it seemed that every other mother at the drop off was showered, perfectly groomed and made up. Meanwhile, I hid in my car slouched down in my husbands ratty sweats which most likely had food stains, and my clown hair frizzed out to at least a foot from my head, hoping that no one would try to smile and wave at me (which they didn't, and then I felt rejected). I was always very proud of myself if I managed to improve my appearance by pick up time.
I don't know that my bathing and grooming problem is so much related to time as it might be to fear of what my children might do to the house while I'm in the shower. I really do think there is typically plenty of time in a day to shower. Quite honestly, when I hear other moms talking about not having enough time to shower, for whatever reason I tend to hear it as: "I devote so much of my time to being a perfectly perfect super mom to my 2.5 children that my daily shower is my one and only selfish indulgence."
So, as I said, despite having 6 children, I do think I have "time" to shower. But today was a perfect example of why I often choose not to do so. Isaak spent the night with his cousin last night and so the rest of us were meeting my father-in-law and Isaak for dinner to retrieve him. Being rather grubby, as I often am, I decided I'd best shower before going out in public.
I made sure that Jane was napping and that everyone was peaceful before I made my escape. I came out of the shower feeling clean and refreshed. Then I walked downstairs...
Apparently Alexandra and the twins decided that they should make "hot chocolate" while I was in the shower. This entailed using unsweetened cocoa powder, water and milk and, I guess because they were unable to find any cups, mixing the concoction by pouring it all over the kitchen floor and rolling in it? I mean, I really can't come up for any other explanation for the sight that greeted me.
There was wet chocolaty sludge from one end of the kitchen floor to the other. Alexandra and the twins were brown from head to toe - which would be fine if they weren't primarily German and Irish. Alexandra looked guilty, but Dante and Dominic seemed quite pleased with their accomplishment. The pointed at the floor and said, "Look! We made hot chocolate!"
Sebastian, meanwhile, was a few feet away on the couch completely engrossed in an animal magazine. Until I made some sort of guttural animalistic noise, at which point he glanced up and said, "Whoa, what happened?"
I may have started ranting and raving at that point. I may have said something along the lines of, "Why do you guys use every opportunity to destroy our house?? You don't seem to appreciate having a house at all! Do you know some people don't even have houses? Since you seem so hell bent on destroying our house, maybe we shouldn't have a house! Maybe we should just go live on the street!"
At which point Alexandra started sobbing. I felt a little remorseful for being so harsh. But then she said, "If we live on the street then I will get run over by a car!" So rather than being consumed by guilt like I had thought, she was picturing living, quite literally in the middle of the street with cars coming at us. I explained that "living in the street" was a figure of speech, and homeless people more often live on sidewalks and benches and parks. She thought living in a park sounded fun, and managed to make a full recovery from my overzealous lecture.
I told her to start getting towels to clean up the sludge while I ran back up the stairs to restart the shower. On the way up I heard Jane awake so asked Sebastian to get her for me. Apparently he took this to mean "Go get Jane, take her into the kitchen, roll her around in the sludge, and THEN bring her to me." Okay, he probably didn't really do that, but it seems like the most plausible explanation for how, in two minutes time, she managed to be come a bigger mess than her three delinquent siblings combined.
Fine. Whatever. I got everyone showered and then I mandated that they all sit on my bed and not leave my room while I ran up and down the stairs gathering clothes and shoes. See, I knew from experience that if I let any one of them set foot outside my room they would magically be covered in chocolate again.
Miraculously we made it to the restaurant, a hot dog joint, early. After dinner, Grandpa treated everyone to ice cream. Dante was so very cautious with his ice cream, but after some time, it started dripping. He panicked and requested napkins, proclaiming agitatedly, "I don't want to get my clothes dirty!" All I could do was stare at him, mouth agape, before I let out a guffaw followed by a full on belly laugh.
Was this the same child who just a few hours before was completely coated in chocolate? Where did his new found desire for cleanliness come from? My lecture perhaps? Maybe he was sitting there thinking, "If I get my clothes dirty, my mom is going to make me live in the street where I will be run over by cars." I watched in fascination as he carefully cleaned every drip, not only off of himself, but also off of the table. I will be carefully watching tomorrow to see if he continues this new cleanly lifestyle.
Throughout the afternoon, I was reminded to appreciate Isaak more. I believe I have mentioned before that he has a tendency to be bossy. While it can be a bit overdone at times, he does frequently prevent disasters like this from occurring. The next time he comes storming up to me with a bottle of barbecue sauce, or bottle of shampoo, or bag of cocoa powder and says, "LOOK what those naughty twins and Alexandra were getting into," I must make sure to thank him profusely and remember today (and the other day, and a few days before that, etc.), and appreciate that this is one less disaster that I have to clean up (or look at, storm off angrily, avoid it as long as possible, and THEN clean up).
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Mugshots and Handcuffs and Lessons Never Learned, Oh My!
I've had some qualms about making this post, but after the events of last night I decided to stick with the true spirit of this blog and just go for it. I'm extremely frazzled right now so hopefully it's not too disjointed.
Let me preface this by saying that I am the most irresponsible person on the planet. Okay, that's not quite true, but certainly when it comes to rules, regulations and procedures that I just can't seem to bring to the forefront of my mind and flag as "this is very important".
This story begins in August of 2008. I had just dropped the boys off at school and decided to drive through Starbucks on the way to Alexandra's school (this was before I started homeschooling, obviously). As I was pulling out of the drive-thru I got pulled over for having a tail light out. It also turned out that I had forgotten to put my proof of insurance in the car. So I got a ticket and a summons to appear in court and prove that I did indeed have insurance. I stuck the ticket in the glove box and promptly forgot all about it.
I still don't remember when the original court date was, but I know it was at some point before December. So, at some point in there I missed my court date. Also, at some point during that time I received a notice in the mail that there was a warrant out for my arrest due to missing the court date. I was advised to turn myself in. I believe my entire thought process was, "Oh shoot, I need to make sure to take care of this when Josh gets home." I know I mentioned to Josh that I might get arrested if I didn't turn myself in soon, but that was probably the last time either of us thought about it. Besides, who has time for such trivialities as outstanding bench warrants when you are pregnant with your sixth child and preparing for Christmas with 5 little ones, am I right? (Don't answer, that was rhetorical.)
So it was few days after Christmas when all of my irresponsibilities finally caught up with me. It was quite late, probably around 1 AM, when I decided to make a quick run to the store. I don't remember why. I probably needed a doughnut or something. As I was pulling back into my driveway a police car pulled up behind me. Suddenly, all those pesky things that I didn't have time for previously became very present and important to me.
Cop: Do you know why I'm here?
Me: *shuffling my feet and staring at the ground* Yeah, I think so.
Cop: So you know you have a warrant?
Me: Yeah.
Cop: Okay, I'm going to have to take you in, do you have anyone who can come down to the station and bail you out?
Me: Um, yeah, my husband is here, he's sleeping, I'll have to go wake him up.
He then wanted to know if there was anyone else in the house (yes, 5 sleeping kids), if we had any weapons in the house (no) and my husband's overall disposition (asleep). I didn't understand what he was getting at with the questions about my husband, so it was possible that I was not giving the most helpful answers.
Cop: Does your husband have a temper?
Me: Not usually...I mean occasionally, but not too often.
Cop: Is he going to be upset about this?
Me: Oh, I'm sure he'll be pretty irritated.
Cop: Am I going to need to call for backup?
Me: What? No! It will be fine!
I politely asked the officer to wait outside, along with his ride-along friend, while I went to wake my husband. However, apparently this was not an option and he was going to have to come inside with me . I'm sure I looked terribly distraught, which I think he mistook for fear of my husband because he said, "Look, I don't want any surprises in there, if you think this is going to be a problem you need to tell me now." In actuality, the look on my face was the result of me trying to call to mind just exactly how messy my house was.
Once we got inside I again politely asked them to wait downstairs while I went to retrieve my husband, but again, this was a no go. They had to come with me into my bedroom in case my husband decided to barricade us in there with the shotgun that we don't have.
Dejectedly I led them up the stairs to my room. My husband was asleep, and of course he was au naturel. Thankfully he was under a blanket. I tried to block the view of the police officer and his buddy (who I was extremely annoyed about having in my bedroom. I mean the cop was one thing, but who the hell was this guy?), and gently woke Josh up saying, "Honey, this nice police officer is here to take me to jail because of that warrant I never took care of....do you think you might be able to come and bail me out?" He looked at me groggily and said, "Yeah, sure how much is it?" I informed him of the $300 fee, which he thankfully had in his wallet, and he told me he might be a little while since he had to get the kids all ready.
I bit back the urge to ask the officer if that reaction was mellow enough for him. Quite honestly, had he been more awake, he would probably have offered them coffee and invited them to join in for a good laugh at my expense.
When we got back out to the driveway, the police officer informed me that I would need to be handcuffed. I thought he was joking, but apparently not. I found it highly unnecessary, and I still think he was simply amusing himself at my expense. I mean really, I had already led them through my house, taken them into my bedroom, and introduced them to my naked husband all with out incident, and now he was worried that....what....I was suddenly going to become belligerent and needed to be restrained? I'm sure I looked shifty eyed as I glanced around nervously at my neighbors darkened windows wondering if any of them were up and watching the spectacle. Maybe that was what did it. Maybe I looked like I was getting ready to bolt.
Anyway, we made it to the police station where I was fingerprinted and photographed. At some point during this procedure I guess he determined that I wasn't too much of a threat, because after taking my shoes he left the cell door open.
Then we waited and waited and waited. I knew it would be awhile. Rousting five children from a sound sleep and getting them ready to go at 3 AM is no small task. Still, after an inordinate amount of time, the officer decided to call him on his cell phone. A good thing too, because Josh had gone to the wrong police station which seemed to be completely dark with nobody around.
Finally my husband and 5 small children arrived to bail me out and take me home. What a fun and unexpected family field trip! When the older kids asked what we were doing there, we told them that the nice police man had to give me a ride (why? because I needed one), and now I needed a ride home. They still occasionally say "Mommy, remember that time we picked you up at the police station?" Which is met with a nod and a smile a quick change of subject.
So in January I finally went to court, in the midst of a howling blizzard. By this time I was clearly showing, which perhaps made people more sympathetic. I brought in my proof of insurance and the DA dropped all the charges. I only had to pay the court costs. My license, which had been revoked when I was arrested, was reinstated and I headed directly to the DMV (new model citizen that I was) to get a new one.
Everything was right in the world again! A few days later I misplaced my new license. I searched and searched and I couldn't find it anywhere. I did have my "revoked" license with the hole in it handy though. I placed it on my key chain as a back-up and vowed to get a new one really soon.
Fast forward a year and a half to now. We are staying at my mom's house while we get new hardwood floors put on the upper floor of our house. Bear hangs out with us here during the day, and every night we take him home to put him in his kennel for bed.
Last night was my turn to take him home. As I was pulling back in to my parents' neighborhood, I saw those dreaded familiar flashing lights once again. This time it was a female cop. Her first question was, "Where are you headed tonight?" Frankly, that annoyed me. If there is no warrant out for my arrest, which as far as I knew there wasn't, why does a traffic violation entitle the police to know where I'm going? But I contritely told her I was going to my parents' house.
She informed me that my front headlight was out and that my tags were expired. My sister just told me two days ago that my headlight was out. But I misplaced the information in one of my mental filing cabinets. Then of course the next question is to see my license, registration and proof of insurance.
*PANIC*
I take my bad license off of my key chain and hand it to her, fumbling to explain that this was my old license, but I had a new license, but I lost it.
Coplady: *noting that old license is not expired* How did you lose your license?
Me: Wait, no, I am licensed to drive, I mean I did lose my license for not going to court when I was supposed to, but then I got it back and got a new license but I physically misplaced it so I'm just carrying my old license around with me.
Coplady: *looking at me with quizzical amusement* Okay, registration and insurance?
Eager to please, I quickly opened my glove box to discover that it was completely empty, except for two baptismal candles from the twins' baptism a year prior. I knew the insurance wouldn't be there because when I received the cards in the mail I put them on my bookshelf and reminded myself a few times to put it in my car before completely forgetting about it. I'm still baffled about the missing registration. It's always in the glove box.
Unfortunately I can't recount the rest of the story because at that moment my head exploded.
Okay, fine. My head didn't really explode, but that is how I felt. The best I could offer was a weak, "I'm sorry, I'm very disorganized." Happily for me, she was a very nice coplady. Despite having no valid documentation she only ticketed me for having expired tags. I don't even have to go to court! Well, I had the option if I wanted to contest the ticket. After some careful consideration, I decided that would not be in anyone's best interest.
Next question was a skeptical, "Does your mom really live in this neighborhood?" Tremendously relieved and grateful about the minimal consequences I was no longer annoyed by this seemingly irrelevant question I quickly assured her that it was just around the corner and up the hill.
It turns out that her question was totally relevant as she was apparently supposed to have my car towed, but wouldn't if I was really just going to a nearby house and not leaving again.
I don't know why everyone is always complaining about cops. Despite my regular encounters with being in trouble with them, I have always found them to be very kind and lenient (except for the handcuff thing).
Let me preface this by saying that I am the most irresponsible person on the planet. Okay, that's not quite true, but certainly when it comes to rules, regulations and procedures that I just can't seem to bring to the forefront of my mind and flag as "this is very important".
This story begins in August of 2008. I had just dropped the boys off at school and decided to drive through Starbucks on the way to Alexandra's school (this was before I started homeschooling, obviously). As I was pulling out of the drive-thru I got pulled over for having a tail light out. It also turned out that I had forgotten to put my proof of insurance in the car. So I got a ticket and a summons to appear in court and prove that I did indeed have insurance. I stuck the ticket in the glove box and promptly forgot all about it.
I still don't remember when the original court date was, but I know it was at some point before December. So, at some point in there I missed my court date. Also, at some point during that time I received a notice in the mail that there was a warrant out for my arrest due to missing the court date. I was advised to turn myself in. I believe my entire thought process was, "Oh shoot, I need to make sure to take care of this when Josh gets home." I know I mentioned to Josh that I might get arrested if I didn't turn myself in soon, but that was probably the last time either of us thought about it. Besides, who has time for such trivialities as outstanding bench warrants when you are pregnant with your sixth child and preparing for Christmas with 5 little ones, am I right? (Don't answer, that was rhetorical.)
So it was few days after Christmas when all of my irresponsibilities finally caught up with me. It was quite late, probably around 1 AM, when I decided to make a quick run to the store. I don't remember why. I probably needed a doughnut or something. As I was pulling back into my driveway a police car pulled up behind me. Suddenly, all those pesky things that I didn't have time for previously became very present and important to me.
Cop: Do you know why I'm here?
Me: *shuffling my feet and staring at the ground* Yeah, I think so.
Cop: So you know you have a warrant?
Me: Yeah.
Cop: Okay, I'm going to have to take you in, do you have anyone who can come down to the station and bail you out?
Me: Um, yeah, my husband is here, he's sleeping, I'll have to go wake him up.
He then wanted to know if there was anyone else in the house (yes, 5 sleeping kids), if we had any weapons in the house (no) and my husband's overall disposition (asleep). I didn't understand what he was getting at with the questions about my husband, so it was possible that I was not giving the most helpful answers.
Cop: Does your husband have a temper?
Me: Not usually...I mean occasionally, but not too often.
Cop: Is he going to be upset about this?
Me: Oh, I'm sure he'll be pretty irritated.
Cop: Am I going to need to call for backup?
Me: What? No! It will be fine!
I politely asked the officer to wait outside, along with his ride-along friend, while I went to wake my husband. However, apparently this was not an option and he was going to have to come inside with me . I'm sure I looked terribly distraught, which I think he mistook for fear of my husband because he said, "Look, I don't want any surprises in there, if you think this is going to be a problem you need to tell me now." In actuality, the look on my face was the result of me trying to call to mind just exactly how messy my house was.
Once we got inside I again politely asked them to wait downstairs while I went to retrieve my husband, but again, this was a no go. They had to come with me into my bedroom in case my husband decided to barricade us in there with the shotgun that we don't have.
Dejectedly I led them up the stairs to my room. My husband was asleep, and of course he was au naturel. Thankfully he was under a blanket. I tried to block the view of the police officer and his buddy (who I was extremely annoyed about having in my bedroom. I mean the cop was one thing, but who the hell was this guy?), and gently woke Josh up saying, "Honey, this nice police officer is here to take me to jail because of that warrant I never took care of....do you think you might be able to come and bail me out?" He looked at me groggily and said, "Yeah, sure how much is it?" I informed him of the $300 fee, which he thankfully had in his wallet, and he told me he might be a little while since he had to get the kids all ready.
I bit back the urge to ask the officer if that reaction was mellow enough for him. Quite honestly, had he been more awake, he would probably have offered them coffee and invited them to join in for a good laugh at my expense.
When we got back out to the driveway, the police officer informed me that I would need to be handcuffed. I thought he was joking, but apparently not. I found it highly unnecessary, and I still think he was simply amusing himself at my expense. I mean really, I had already led them through my house, taken them into my bedroom, and introduced them to my naked husband all with out incident, and now he was worried that....what....I was suddenly going to become belligerent and needed to be restrained? I'm sure I looked shifty eyed as I glanced around nervously at my neighbors darkened windows wondering if any of them were up and watching the spectacle. Maybe that was what did it. Maybe I looked like I was getting ready to bolt.
Anyway, we made it to the police station where I was fingerprinted and photographed. At some point during this procedure I guess he determined that I wasn't too much of a threat, because after taking my shoes he left the cell door open.
Then we waited and waited and waited. I knew it would be awhile. Rousting five children from a sound sleep and getting them ready to go at 3 AM is no small task. Still, after an inordinate amount of time, the officer decided to call him on his cell phone. A good thing too, because Josh had gone to the wrong police station which seemed to be completely dark with nobody around.
Finally my husband and 5 small children arrived to bail me out and take me home. What a fun and unexpected family field trip! When the older kids asked what we were doing there, we told them that the nice police man had to give me a ride (why? because I needed one), and now I needed a ride home. They still occasionally say "Mommy, remember that time we picked you up at the police station?" Which is met with a nod and a smile a quick change of subject.
So in January I finally went to court, in the midst of a howling blizzard. By this time I was clearly showing, which perhaps made people more sympathetic. I brought in my proof of insurance and the DA dropped all the charges. I only had to pay the court costs. My license, which had been revoked when I was arrested, was reinstated and I headed directly to the DMV (new model citizen that I was) to get a new one.
Everything was right in the world again! A few days later I misplaced my new license. I searched and searched and I couldn't find it anywhere. I did have my "revoked" license with the hole in it handy though. I placed it on my key chain as a back-up and vowed to get a new one really soon.
Fast forward a year and a half to now. We are staying at my mom's house while we get new hardwood floors put on the upper floor of our house. Bear hangs out with us here during the day, and every night we take him home to put him in his kennel for bed.
Last night was my turn to take him home. As I was pulling back in to my parents' neighborhood, I saw those dreaded familiar flashing lights once again. This time it was a female cop. Her first question was, "Where are you headed tonight?" Frankly, that annoyed me. If there is no warrant out for my arrest, which as far as I knew there wasn't, why does a traffic violation entitle the police to know where I'm going? But I contritely told her I was going to my parents' house.
She informed me that my front headlight was out and that my tags were expired. My sister just told me two days ago that my headlight was out. But I misplaced the information in one of my mental filing cabinets. Then of course the next question is to see my license, registration and proof of insurance.
*PANIC*
I take my bad license off of my key chain and hand it to her, fumbling to explain that this was my old license, but I had a new license, but I lost it.
Coplady: *noting that old license is not expired* How did you lose your license?
Me: Wait, no, I am licensed to drive, I mean I did lose my license for not going to court when I was supposed to, but then I got it back and got a new license but I physically misplaced it so I'm just carrying my old license around with me.
Coplady: *looking at me with quizzical amusement* Okay, registration and insurance?
Eager to please, I quickly opened my glove box to discover that it was completely empty, except for two baptismal candles from the twins' baptism a year prior. I knew the insurance wouldn't be there because when I received the cards in the mail I put them on my bookshelf and reminded myself a few times to put it in my car before completely forgetting about it. I'm still baffled about the missing registration. It's always in the glove box.
Unfortunately I can't recount the rest of the story because at that moment my head exploded.
Okay, fine. My head didn't really explode, but that is how I felt. The best I could offer was a weak, "I'm sorry, I'm very disorganized." Happily for me, she was a very nice coplady. Despite having no valid documentation she only ticketed me for having expired tags. I don't even have to go to court! Well, I had the option if I wanted to contest the ticket. After some careful consideration, I decided that would not be in anyone's best interest.
Next question was a skeptical, "Does your mom really live in this neighborhood?" Tremendously relieved and grateful about the minimal consequences I was no longer annoyed by this seemingly irrelevant question I quickly assured her that it was just around the corner and up the hill.
It turns out that her question was totally relevant as she was apparently supposed to have my car towed, but wouldn't if I was really just going to a nearby house and not leaving again.
I don't know why everyone is always complaining about cops. Despite my regular encounters with being in trouble with them, I have always found them to be very kind and lenient (except for the handcuff thing).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
