Welcome to the Circus, otherwise known as, "My Life"

As I drove back from the car dealership this afternoon, I wondered to myself, "are other people's lives like this?? I never really hear of other people's lives being this wacky."

As I glanced around my van, which three of my family members refer to as, "the crap mobile" I thought of my friend's van, (Ill keep this anonymous, and call her "Jane".) Jane's van looks like she just bought it an hour before, everyday. It is shiney and clean and smells like new car. Im pretty sure Jane has never tossed Happy Meal boxes to kidlets in the back row, never had anyone throw up on the van carpet, or lost sippy cups full of milk under her seats, Im certain of it. And, how do I know? Because, Jane, was kind enough to drive my kids and I to swim team yesterday, due to my key-less-ness, and I was able to experience the beauty that is her van.

Jane's house, is much like everyone else's house I know; you feel like you have walked into a page from "pottery barn", in a good way. Kids dont leave their toys on the floor, no, they are all put away into decorative storage baskets. No finger prints or graffitti on the walls, just matted pictures of the perfect children. The kitchen sink and counter tops? Aside from the Williams Sonoma, fragrant hand soap and coordinating lotion, they're clear!

But anyways, I thought of how everyone else's life seems so in-sync, and I sighed.

I was determined to stop comparing myself and just to be grateful for my crap-mobile, I had even missed it after the days of keylessness. So,I drove home from the car dealership, thankful for my new keys, and relieved that the saga was over.

The whole thing began, at 8am on Wednesday morning. We were all planning on picking My Honey up at the airport. He was returning from a business trip, and had taken Super Shuttle, leaving his car at home. Everyone was ready to leave, except for Little One, who thought to herself, "No sense getting out the door on time THIS morning, I think Ill poop myself and give my mom something to do." So she did.

As I went to change her, I realized that I was out of diapers, but thankfully, there was a big box of Huggies in the car. (note to dad's, it's not possible to carry everything out of the car, including kids, and all their gear, and groceries, unless you are Jane.)

Pooper, my responsible 7 year old, offered (was threatened with no Webkinz time if he didnt comply) to get the box out of the car... he took my key, unlocked the car door, brought the box into the house....and......????

I changed Little One's diaper, and we all got into the car. I asked Pooper for the key, and he didnt know where it was.

Just so you know, Pooper takes my key to get into the car often, usually in the morning, when he is running around looking for his shoes, which are typically in my car, because he changes in the van for swim team after school. He always puts the key on the driver's seat for me, after opening the car. But not today.

We searched the car, searched the house, and before you know it, nearly an hour had passed, and My Honey called wondering where we were, as he was standing outside of baggage claim at the airport, the airport that was 30 minutes away.

I loaded the kids into My Honey's car, transferring all the car seats, and we were good to go.

Over the course of the next couple of days, I searched high and low for that darned key.

Part of searching "high and low" means, searching IN the car. Unfortunately, after taking out the car seats and putting them into My Honey's car, I mistakenly locked the van. great!

So, I called a towing service, who came out and opened up the car, only with a lot of fanfare.

I should point out, that, due to the misfiring of brain cells in my head, our gas was turned off on Wednesday evening, and by the time I got home, it was too late to get it turned back on. Now, just so you dont think Im a complete nincompoop, the notice even pointed out, that I last paid them IN FULL on February 19th. So, it wasnt like I had just gone forever without paying, it's just that the gas company has a grace period of like, negative days.

So, Thursday morning, I paid the bill, and the chipper gal told me they could, "come out Saturday to turn it back on." Um, Saturday? That's not really working for me. So, she put me on hold, and told me they could have someone out within 4 hours. (So glad I didnt accept the Saturday thing!)

Because the moon and the stars and the tides seem to be in perfect alignment with the rhythms of my life. The tow truck driver and the gas man showed up at exacly the same time. and for good measure, I had just put Little One down for a nap.

As soon as the gas man went into the house to do his thing, the tow truck dude unlocked my van, and the car alarm began to sound.

I looked at the tow truck driver and he stared at me blankly. I asked him if he could turn off the alarm, and he said I would need the key.

Suddenly, my eyes rolled back into my head, and it was as if I could hear circus music, and there was confetti and a trapeze artist, and a bunch of smelly elephants and a big banner in front of my house that said;

"Hey look over here! The gas man is here because we forgot to pay our bill, and we also have a giant tow truck out front, maybe our car is getting repossessed, and, oh, we cant turn this alarm off either!"

I felt like such a spectacle on my quiet street.

and the alarm didnt stop!

I played under the hood, looking for the alarm (to pull the wires) and was tempted to just yank the entire battery out of the car, but the alarm stopped. That is, until Pooper opened up the passenger side door, and it set the whole thing off again! Suddenly (or not!) the tow truck driver told me if I open up all the doors, the alarm will go off, and it did. and the baby was crying.

Too end this long story, we woke up at the crack of dawn to take My Honey to work this morning, and afterwards went to the car dealer to get new keys made. And then, we came back home with the new keys.

They had given me directions to use this emergency key, complete with punching in a secret code, using my foot to pump the gas pedal a certain amount of times. The guy in the parts department wished me luck, as he can never get the secret-brake-pumping code thing to work. I went home, tried it, and it worked.

This was only half the process, as I now needed to drive my van back to the dealership (another transfering of all car seats) so that they could reprogram my van with a new code or something fancy.

While back at the dealership, the kids were playing nicely in the playroom, and I noticed a little dog trotting by. Apparently, one of the employees brings the puppy to work each day. Little One got a lot of laughs at the puppy, it was cute.

A bit later, while on the ground picking up some of the playroom Legos, Pooper said, "Ewwww! This floor is wet" and followed with, "It's pee!!" as he sniffed his dampened hand.

For a fraction of a split-second, I thought, "that darned dog shouldnt be allowed......" but before I could even begin to think it, my head turned, and I was staring at Beauty.

If you have read this blog, you know that Beauty ...well, I dont know how to say it, except that she is unwilling to listen to the "I have to pee" warning that goes off in her body.

I knew it was Beauty. About 10 minutes before, she has asked to use the bathroom, and I should have known, that it was an "after" use, probably to wipe the dribble on her leg or something.

I called her over, and while her dress was dry, the Disney Princess panties were soaked.

So, for the next 15 minutes, while waiting for the car to be ready, I cringed everytime that little dog came over to us. I was pretty sure that he would start sniffing the pee spot on the carpet, and lights and sirens would go off, and everyone would know, that the MOTHER OF THE YEAR was in the building, the mother who's five year old daughter peed in the playroom. And the mother who didnt notify anyone, or try to soak up any of the moisture. No, the mother that just prayed to God that the car would be ready soon, so she and her kidlets could just go back home and hibernate.

And all the way home, I wondered, if anyone else ever has days, or years, or lifetimes like mine.