You know those weeks you know you will look back on in 20 years, and think, 'thank goodness that's over!'
It's been like that here, and after tonight, I decided to share it- because sometimes it's either find the humour in it or get lost in feeling sorry for yourself.
The weather here is cold. No, not just 'put a sweater on' cold, it is 'going outside is deadly!' cold. 40 degrees below zero, with windchills well into the 60s and 70s below zero. Last week, my husband headed back to work. Usually we drive him to a nearby town and he catches a bus back to work. Only, the block heater in the car was sheared off at the plug. This meant that on the morning he needed to head back to work, I stood outside learning how to rebuild a plug. Did I mention that it was -40? Right. Turns out that at that temperature, you can't really use wire strippers, because the sheath around the wire simply shatters. Yes well, just one more small thing. Oh, and if you drop one of the screws used to hold the wire connected to the plug through the engine block and into the several inches of fresh snow beneath the engine block? Well, that means another trip to the store for a second plug end. Oh well, it isn't far, and really, it's just one more small thing.
So, I successfully managed to rebuild the plug and get the block heater in and burbling away, but the battery- frozen completely solid at this point, would not even take a charge. 'Maintenance Free' the label on top claimed. Apparently they had been so sure that this battery would last as long as the car did, that there wasn't even a date of installation. I can simply assume it went back to the 2008 year of production. A little more examination of the label and I read something about '0ºF'. Well, that was a good 40 degrees warmer than it was that day without the windchill. So, another walk down the road to the gas station for a new battery was clearly in order.
With the block heater functioning, and a brand new (room temperature!) battery rated for weather like this, the van started up without a problem. However, it was considerably too late to make any connection we would have needed to make. So instead, we made a quick run out for a stockpile of groceries, and my husband took the car back to work with him for two weeks. We'll manage, after all, it's just one more thing.
Things were really going well, other than kids trying to kill each other because outside playtime is non-existent when it is cold enough that even the Saint Bernard looks at you funny for opening the door. Mind you, I spent two days avoiding life because of a terrible migraine and body aches, but that wasn't terrible. Unless you noticed the desperate need to wash the floor, and the fact that the laundry pile was probably approaching Mount Washmore status.
I was feeling a little better today, I managed to get the laundry caught up, and vacuumed the floors. Washing them was beyond the limits of my energy. Still, at least I could be in daylight without hissing and trying to hide in a corner.
So we planned a fun dinner tonight- hamburgers on homemade buns. I added all the dough ingredients to the bread maker, thawed the meat, sliced the vegetables in advance. And realized three hours later that putting the ingredients to make bread in the bread maker really has no meaning if one does not actually press the start button. In fact, after three hours, I had concrete taking up space in the machine, and actually had to use a screwdriver to chip the paddles out to wash it in hopes of actually turning the machine on tomorrow. The already sliced veggies soon became salad, and we threw together a quick dinner. Not what was planned, but it was very good despite my best efforts at sabotage.
An hour later it began. First with the 4 year old, then the oldest, eventually the ever-so-stoic 5 year old, all complaining of headaches, and feeling lousy. And then the fun began. As temperatures headed up above 102º, they began to vomit. No, not neatly and tidily in the bathroom, but all over the floors, and the bedding. All over clean pajamas, and the nice comfortable yoga pants I had put on with visions of an early bedtime and a new book. At least the youngest seemed to have been spared.
Bedding was rewashed, kids were retucked with blankets fresh from the dryer. I managed not to scream when handed a bag of vomit while washing the dishes. Eh, at least it didn't hit the bedding again. Or my last pair of clean pants.
The bathroom was sanitized, the dishes all washed. I had the last of the laundry drying, a cup of tea steeping, and plans for the book. And then I heard it... the distinctive sound of the peacefully sleeping two year old, waking up just in time to projectile vomit all aver my bed. So I stripped the bed, bathed and changed the two year old, and realized that all my spare bedding was up with the other kids.
So, it is now 1 am, and I am about to wash my linens, then dry them. And maybe go to bed in time to get up a couple hours later. Did I mention that as I was stripping the bed, the aforementioned Saint Bernard decided that instead of going out into the cold, it was appropriate to do her business on the living room floor? Well, at least I found the motivation to mop after all! Really, it was just one more thing.