Smokin on dubs in clubs, blowin up like cocoa puffs...
It. Won't. Stop. Raining.
On Saturday morning, our main bathroom flooded. We had a lake in the bathroom and hallway. Now, half of our house smells like a urinal at Cochella. My dad came down and put a new wax seal on the toilet, but that'll hold for only a couple of days if it doesn't stop raining. We live out in the country, in a rental house, and whoever put in the septic didn't do such a fantastic job. The plumbing has never been perfect, but like I said--we live out in the country. We have our own septic and our own well, so there are bound to be issues that people with city plumbing/water wouldn't have. I'm used to this, as I grew up in the country. My husband, however, has never dealt with such issues before, and therefore is not dealing with them very well. So, on top of a partially flooded, gross smelling house, I also have two infants in my house to take care of.
We had Easter dinner at my grandmother's house on Saturday night. About 8 o'clock we were all searching our Easter baskets for the elusive "money egg" when my brother noticed there was water seeping in from the garage. And then from the kitchen. And finally, from both of the bathrooms. We all rushed to throw down towels, in hopes that the water wouldn't make it to her carpeting, but that was all in vain. Within seconds, it was like we were sailing on the Titanic. We managed to save most of her furniture, but every single room in my grandmother's house is flooded. Walking on her brand new linoleum floor in the kitchen was just like walking on paper. I'll be surprised if they don't have to replace the sub-floors and half the sheetrock in herhouse, and my grandmother does NOT live in the country. In fact, she lives in one of the nicest parts of the city--right by the private country club. She lives next door to one of the deans at the local college, and his house flooded, too. We were all outside, soaking wet, watching the street in front of their houses become a river. The water, at one point, was all the way up to my thigh (of course, I'm just 5'3").
I told the guy driving the fire & rescue truck that I thought it was the rapture.
He didn't think I was very funny.
Needless to say, nobody made it to church on Easter Sunday, and my grandmother now lives at the Super 8.
As stressful as this weekend has been (and it ranks right up there with the weekend I went into labor) it will also be a weekend we'll remember and talk (and eventualy laugh ) about for the rest of our lives. Jude's first Easter was rife with excitement. If my house hadn't flooded, and we hadn't spent half the day cleaning up that mess, we would have been done with Easter dinner at my grandmother's hours earlier, and she would have been all alone when the flooding at her house began. She's 80, and uses a walker since her back surgery a year ago, so there is no way she could have moved her furniture to safety, or done anything to prevent her house from becoming a swimming pool.
God takes care of us--even if it ends up making your house smell like dirty underwear.
One of my best friends is getting married on Saturday. I'm really excited about her wedding, even if it means wearing a bridesmaid's dress that cuts off my air supply. I realized last week that I hadn't even tried on my dress since before I got pregnant. It was then that I also realized that I still needed to lose about 30 lbs of baby weight before I could actually wear the aforementioned dress. I tried it on one morning before work and couldn't get it to zip, in fact ripping it just a little at the base. I called just about every David's Bridal in the tri-state area, and the last store I called informed me that the dress had been discontinued, and that no store in the continental United States had that dress in the color and size I needed. In a panic, I called my friend and confessed to her that not only was I too fat for my dress, but that I had less than two weeks to fix the problem. She was very cool about it, which I appreciated, and together we found a dress that she thought might be the solution. I ordered the dress at work, and paid extra for expedited shipping.
Then I went home. After I got home, I stared at my original bridesmaid's dress for at least half an hour, silently cursing it for ruining my self-esteem. I decided to try it on one more time for good measure. This time, I zipped up the dress before pulling it on over my head. It was a tight fit, and I had to squash down my boobs quite a bit, but IT FIT!! I couldn't breathe, but IT FIT! I couldn't sit down, but IT FIT!
Of course, all of this happened after I'd spent $250 on a new dress that had already been shipped. So now, I'll have to return the 2nd dress. I tried it on when it came in the mail--it's about 2 sizes too big for me, which was just what my fragile ego needed. My wallet, however, is super pissed.
Despite all the dress drama, I know that this wedding is going to be fun...and that means a lot coming from me, because I HATE weddings. However, I'm going to get to see tons of friends I haven't seen for a while (some of them I haven't seen since I got married in 2009). I have the cutest wedding suit for Jude, and I'm going to get to watch two of my closest friends commit their lives to each other. The first time I met my friend's fiance, he had long, curly hair, had both of his ears stretched, and was wearing a rain slicker with his frat letters embossed on the front. He looked kind of like a douche bag. I'm pretty sure that's the exact term I used to describe him to my friend. I didn't know at the time that he was not, in fact, a douche bag, and that he would become one of my best friends, and the husband to one of my other best friends!
I think maybe that last paragraph is why nobody asked me to give a wedding toast.
Oh well. At least I can drink, which means at some point, my dress will unzip all by itself.
And I will finally be able to breathe.
0 comments:
Post a Comment