And I became very tired.
Last night I had this second wind as I usually do about 8pm. I usually just sort of kick around for an hour picking stuff up and putting it back down (not picking up like cleaning. Picking up like “hm, should I do this? No? Ok then, here allow me to put it on a flat surface – any flat surface – and walk away) and being listless while I wait for Brian to decide he is ready for bed. About 9 we go do the face wash, teeth brush get into bed and read (me) and snore (him). I fall asleep about 1 am and sleep about an hour and repeat the read/ snore fall asleep for an hour cycle for the rest of the night.
Last night I just stayed up and worked on things. Brian had mentioned last week that they were having a baby shower at work for someone and never mentioned it again. I happened to remember about midnight so I made a couple of blankets and made some bags for my etsy stuff to be shipped in and that sort of thing. I did some dishes, moved some glass around. Moved it back. Tried tatting. Failed. Tried again. Failed again. Got pissed off, broke the tatting needle (by accident, not in a fit of rage.) took an Ancestry DNA test I had forgotten came in the mail yesterday and packaged that back up and wandered into bed about 3. slept an hour. Woke up, read till 5:30 or so. I had Juuuuust fallen asleep when Brian woke me up with this panicked tone of voice. So I woke up with my heart in my throat. It wasn’t anything at all urgent. He had a question about a bill and wanted to know if I had paid it. He got a little irritated with my blank look and silence I think until he realized that I wasn’t playing stupid, I was really just brain-dead still. I answered him and then that was it I was up for the day. Read the news, read my emails, answered them, made a list for the day and did my work. Fought with the printer. Fought with the cat on the printer. Fought with the next cat on the same printer. Etc.
My daughter is a Marine. I’m not exactly thrilled about this because in place of the thrilled feeling there resides dread, fear, anxiety and panic. If those weren’t hanging out in my chest area taking up all the room I am certain I would also feel thrilled. Most of the time I also feel pride because she is kinda bad ass. However, she has been writing me a lot the last couple of days, which is very unusual and she told me she was being deployed very soon. She couldn’t tell me anything else. This morning she said “I’m going to be rail side so look for the Marines in their dress uniforms on the USS San Diego and look for me. OK, finally, a hint. A single detail. I Googled the ship. Oh look at that, there is a whole Facebook page…oh look, there are updates in the San Diego News paper. Oh look at that she is being deployed today WTF. So I emailed her really quickly with all the things I had to say before she left. She won’t be able to call or have much internet connectivity for a while and although we often go long periods of time without hearing from her I never know in advance. This time I knew so I felt this sort of urgency to say what I had to say. “be careful. Learn everything you can. Break some teeth. Not your own. Always, always do your best.” I also mentioned that the last line was a given. She was a Brennan and we are tenacious Bad asses that don’t do things half assed. We ALWAYS do our best. When Molly was little she wanted a trophy wicked bad. So one year for Christmas I got her one and it said “Molly Brennan, she always tries her best.” and when she told me she got Marine of the Quarter on her base she mentioned that trophy. At the end of the day the only two people anyone has to answer to are herself and God. Only they know what is really true inside and if the day was a success. If you tried your best. So then, of course I started bawling. Bawling and praying and emailing Brian and my mom and posting on Facebook etc.
And God said “If you’re gonna cry I’m gonna give you something to cry about!”
Gabrielle told me she slipped in a puddle of water in my room. I thought a cat knocked over a glass of water and I handed Gabs a paper towel and commenced crying and emailing and being frantic. Gabs came back out and told me she needed a bath towel. I asked her how big the puddle could possibly be as I walked to my room sort of huffy but with a sense of dread in the back of my mind too because last time something like this went down and I thought “how bad can it be that she can’t handle it” it was really bad and really red and sticky and EVERYWHERE and then I saw exactly how big the puddle can be.
What. The. Fuck.
There was water up to the tops of my feet. In my bedroom, in my bathroom, in the little water closet where the toilet was actively and seemingly happily overflowing. It was all clean water, like it was filling, but it was just a gushing out and I was just a freaking out. So I turned off the water and thought “well, fuck.” and started to clean it up. I cleaned up two 5 gallon shop vac’s full actually. For three hours.
And this is what I learned.
Don’t cry over spilled toilet water.
Don’t let Brian put the sheets away because they will fall off the shelf and end up on the floor of the linen closet and then end up soaking wet when the toilet over flows. Two sets of king size sheets can hold a hell of a lot of water. They are very heavy.
Don’t believe your 14 year old son when he assures you that yes, he did in fact pull the litter box out of the little alcove and sweep behind it. He lies. He knows there is a curtain there and the seceret will stay between him and the cats until there is a flood and then you will be too busy bailing out the bathroom to bitch at him about it.
I learned that the 6 lbs of kitty litter that was located behind and to the sides of the cat box that were supposed to have been swept up by the afore mentioned 14 year old son can absorb a lot of water.
I learned that when the enormous amount of kitty litter that has not been swept up absorbs all that water it becomes like effing cement and will take a puddy knife and all the muscles of your back to get up off the floor.
I have learned also that the noise of the wet/dry vac can successfully mask the sounds of very, very loud and energetic cursing.
I leaned that there is a bright side to this because it was 3 hours of cleaning, really. My floors in my bedroom, bathroom and little water close are are gorgeous. Plus it too my mind off Molly.
I also got to throw away about 700 magazines, leaflets and a couple of really stupid books that were stuffed in a basket in the bathroom that have been there since 2004 when Brian had the house built.
Most importantly, I learned that my lack of desire and time to pick up my side of the bed pretty much saved our lives. I had two piles of clean folded clothes sitting on a clean folded blanket an about 46 skeins of yarn, two boxes full of stuff I had to sort and 5 large tote bags that needed desperately to be cleaned out. We called that Mount Defiance. There was also a large ball of yarn that the cats had gotten to, tangled, dragged under the bed, across the damn room and managed to also get it tangled with a power cord and a spool of thread that was on the desk in the next room. It was a rat’s nest. Brian made it a point of asking me to take care of that this morning. I made a point of rolling my eyes, telling him we will see if I get to it. Well, guess what? We both won. I got to it for sure. I cut the yarn mess apart and threw it away, I ended up picking up a good portion of the laundry and rewashing it. I ended up cleaning out ALL of those purses/ totes and in that way Brian won and I am beginning to suspect he planned this entire situation. Even Timothy suggested it was staged.
However, I got to point out that if it wasn’t for the fact that I have absolutely no issue what so ever with living out of laundry baskets and clean stacks of laundry since I have no damn drawer or closet space that I save our lives. The water was prevented from getting under the bed THANK GOD and hence prevented it from coming into contact with all the cords that are all plugged in on Brian’s side of the bed and hence no one was electrocuted. Mount Defiance saves lives, Brian. My mountain of fabric, fiber, cotton and wool probably kept poor Puppy dog from getting the shock of her life. It certainly saved Gabrielle and I. So he may have won that battle but I sorta won the war, I think.
Brian this morning also said, as he was leaving the house “we have a wedding to save for, no pizza!” Yeah. I texted him after all the events of the day were settled and said “pizza?” and he said “absolutely.” He came in after work and said “is that Pepsi you are drinking out of a wine glass?” and I just looked at him. He said “yeah, it was that kind of day, huh?” yes, it was and it was too early to open the wine. By too early I mean I hate opening the bottles and he wasn’t home yet.
Anyhow, the water is cleaned up, no one died, Molly is out to sea, I just had $500.00 in glass delivered (woohoo!) and Gabrielle may well be deployed to Hells Half Acre on the USS end of my foot before 8am tomorrow so stay tuned.