By Robin "Red Hot" Kaye
Okay, so school started last Monday—I would have told you on Tuesday, but Christie was blogging, thank God. As it is, I’m writing this on my laptop, on my lapdesk, in bed, having had to be awoken at weird o’clock in the morning just to have time to get to it.
You see, I’m married to a domestic god. Yes, they are real. My domestic god cleans, does laundry (not perfectly, but not so badly that I want to take it over), yard work, fixes everything known to man, can build a house or remodel one, is a passable cook (he says he hasn’t killed anyone yet), and is missing in action. He’s been working at the office non-stop, 24/7, sixteen to twenty-hour days for the last month, and seven days a week with late nights more often than not for the last several months switching over his company’s computer systems into an ERP system (enterprise resource planning system) which is supposed to go live today. I have every appendage crossed praying my domestic god will finally be done with the late nights and weekends for once and for all, because, well, God, I miss him and I’m tired of doing all the work around here.
Add to that, the kids are back to school, which means team meetings with Mini-Me’s teachers to discuss her learning disabilities among other things. Said meetings include bribes of Starbucks coffee orders and two different kinds of muffins followed with my blanket apology. Picture a younger, very slightly shorter version of me with no filter. Yeah, that’s scary—funny as hell, but scary nonetheless. I start every teacher meeting since the pervy pen incident with a blanket apology and warning: “Don’t let her see you laugh...well, okay, don’t let her see you laugh to anything inappropriate. Mini-Me is still learning the boundaries of humor and will cross the line. It’s your job, should you accept, to not let her get away with it even if it’s funny as hell.”
Now that Mini-Me is in high school, she attends the meetings and before ten minutes was up, gave us an example of crossing the boundaries. If I had to grade the teachers on their reactions, they’d all fail. I was just glad no one spit coffee at me. Thank God they all seemed to be looking forward to working with her and me because, well, as you can imagine, we’re a handful.
The first day of school was a complete disaster. First off, I had asked my husband to set the alarm for me so I’d wake up in time to get the kids off for their first day—he didn’t. I awoke seven minutes after their buses were to come. I’ve never missed the first day of school—not ever. I was a bit of a mess and angry as hell. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one who was having a hard time of it.
Mini-Me’s puggle puppy, Pepper, AKA Pepperoni, missed her girl—bad.
Pepper is the first dog I’ve had that isn’t MY dog. No, she’s Mini-Me’s dog, which is as it should be especially since Pepper was Mini-Me’s fifteenth birthday present. When Mini-Me is in the room, I cease to exist. If Mini-Me’s not there, I’m fine to play or cuddle with but as soon as Pepper so much as hears Mini-Me’s footsteps, she wouldn’t spit on me if I were on fire. Pepper’s been, well, depressed.
Monday was horrible. Pepper moped all day, and wouldn’t let me out of her sight. She kept looking at me beseechingly as if she were begging me to go get Mini-Me and bring her home. Tuesday was no better. By Wednesday, Pepperoni saw the pattern and started raising hell. Her favorite thing to do is run into my room, grab a piece of clothing and tear around the house with it. She usually grabs my bra—I think she chooses it because after she wears herself out, she can curl up and use it as a bed. Yes, she’s that small, and yes I’m that big. Sigh.
Let me tell you, this canine juvenile delinquent is killing my production. As if it’s not bad enough that I have to wear all the hats in the house--the mom, dad, wife, chief cook and bottle washer, maid, chauffer, author, puppy trainer, student, tutor for both puppy and child, and personal shopper, I have to do it while running after a fifteen pound puggle!
So, if you want to ever see another book out by me, Robin Kaye, please join me in a heartfelt prayer that my husband’s ERP System works when they go live today and I’ll get my domestic god back and that Pepperoni gets used to having Mini-Me mini-breaks or I get my hands on some doggie downers or puppy Prozac.
So how is your back-to-school week going?