Tuesday, March 7, 2006

Oh NO!!!

Oh no...

Just found the notice scrunched up in his backpack under a dead lunch. There's a science fair coming up at the end of the month. We are to be planning and preparing for it now. Please, please, please - let this be the last science fair of my lifetime. I don't have the strength. Or the imagination. Or patience. Or interest...


I can't find Drew's birth certificate. It must be at his dad's place. Yes. Yes. That must be were it is. He went to Birch Bay in August last year with his step mom... I forgot to ask for it back. And they're in Arizona this week.
Last week they were in California.
And for two weeks before that they were in Hawaii.
But I digress.

How am I going to get my child across the border? Or, back in again? We are leaving in 72 hours. I need some proof that he is mine. That he was born. Not hatched. Not snatched.

While I'm venting I might as well continue and share the other reason why I have more stress zits poppin out under my nose.
My new visa card hasn't arrived yet.

They said 2 - 4 days. It's been SEVEN.
I'm leaving in 60 hours. I. need. a. visa. card.
Inhale. Exhale.
I don't play with cash. I am a proud visa card holder.
And I am completely nekkid without it.

What if I die on this trip?
I was watching Without a Trace the other night and the cops went through the woman's things, looking for clues.
I SO am not ready for anyone to look through my things looking for clues.

Oh but the conclusions they would jump to. So much jumping. So much concluding. It would be wrong. So very incorrect. I don't want anyone making assumptions based on those shoe boxes on the top shelf of my closet.
Do I have time to burn the contents of those boxes before I go?
I'm leaving in 52 hours. Maybe...I can fit in a bonfire after I've bought a new bra, worked off 47 pounds at the gym, done 14 loads of laundry, fertilized the lawn, replaced the tires on my truck, had the hair forcibly removed from my forearms and had a pedicure?
I could take some of it to work and put it through the shredder. But rubber doesn't shred that well.
Exhale. Inhale.

Three things I'm thankful for: (Make that four)
1. My mom is letting me borrow her new laptop on this trip. I can BLOG from Palm Springs. We can watch DVD's on the trip down. I can play solitaire in bed. I can download pictures in a snap. I don't like using exclamation points, but imagine each one of those sentences ends with one. Then imagine me with a goofy smile. Luckiest of women am I.
2. Seeing I'm leaving in 48 hours, my dad is going to look after my truck for me. He's going to find out why it makes that wierd noise. And look into aquiring a spare tire. And get that "pulling to the right" issue dealt with. Again, think in terms of exclamation points. As in bubbly happiness, not yelling and screaming. Luckiest of daughters am I.
3. No homework tonight. I was skipping with unbridled joy earlier. And my older ones were both in good moods. Talkative. Introspective. Communicative. Even got a few 'love yas'. Luckiest of mothers am I.
4. It's 11:30 and they are all in bed. A record for these parts.


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