Summer Of Our Discontent

It has been a cruel, cruel summer. Things have been going not quite right and any plans I had of getting to enjoy my summer weekends taking the girls here and there for ‘family fun’ or even just hanging out on the deck while they run through a sprinkler have not really come to fruition.

Our house in Boston was up for sale and we had a buyer. We drove up and moved all of our left-overs out and then my brother moved his stuff out. Then, two days before closing they backed out of the sale. So, the summer selling season was wasted and we are now back to trying to sell it, or rent it, as we cannot pay New Jersey rent and Boston mortgage at the same time.

In the meantime, Amelia had a potential medical emergency at school. She accidentally ingested an unknown fluid (being stored in a nail polish remover bottle – !!!). What happened thereafter can only be described as an a lackadaisical and irresponsible response by the school. It was confirmed after the fact that it was just soap and water, so no true harm came to her. But the liquid hadn’t been identified until 5 hours afterwards. We thought about immediately removing both girls from the school. Being so late into the summer, we had some trouble finding an opening for both of them and even at that, it was a couple hundred a month more than I’m paying now.. I also had to consider that, if we stay in NJ next year, Amelia will be moving schools again into first grade. If we don’t stay here, they’ll be moving houses, schools, maybe countries. I try to keep their housing and daily routines as stable as possible for as long as possible and a new teacher will be starting in Amelia’s class in 2 more weeks. We decided to suck it up and wait for the new teacher. It sucks to just sit around hoping that you made the right decision.

We did get to take the girls to the shore for a day and played hooky on a work day to get them to the county fair. We also all got to get out on my dad’s boat for a bit to see the fireworks on the 4th of July and they loved it, but they were so tired that they feel asleep in the middle of it even though we were only a few hundred yards from the barge.

The beginning of the summer started out all right, but has fallen apart a bit at the seams. In other news, I turned 39, I’m trying to get Elise potty trained (grrrrr…) and she took a whiz on a down comforter last night, my brother’s bachelor party is next weekend (I have organized to my best ability, everyone is broke and are starting to bail…que sera….), and there are 3 weddings this fall. One, of course, being my brother’s and I’ve been informed that my ‘best woman’s’ dress will be here the week before – or maybe even early the week of – or maybe I’ll be standing there in something off the Macy’s rack that I bought 30 minutes before the ceremony. CS may have to work the weekend of the wedding. One catastrophe at a time.

This post is a poorly written rant bitching about first world problems I suppose. Whatever. I haven’t had as many cocktails as I should have, I haven’t read one frigging book all summer, and the problems we keep having are generally out of our control – so he keeps saying “it will all work out” and I just keep rolling my eyes and ask him to buy more beer on his way home from work.

And I’m pretty sure that thumping I am hearing on the living room ceiling means Elise just went upstairs into her sister’s room and peed on the floor. Shoot me.

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2 Responses to Summer Of Our Discontent

  1. Kris says:

    So, reminding you that these years are special and fleeting won’t help much right about now, will it?

  2. Oh lovie. In years to come you’ll look back on it and… thank Christ it’s over. In the meantime, don’t be shy about heading to the liquor store with kids in tow. (The store owners are used to people who piss their pants coming in, so they’ll welcome your potty-training girl with open arms…) Back in the day*, I used to find lemonade and bourbon healed all ailments. Then get ice-cream and cake. Ta-Da! All bases covered. And remember the daily mantra: “At least I’m not pregnant, at least I’m not pregnant”**
    (*When I was just a lass of 39)
    (**Warning: could tempt fate)