Waiter, there’s something in my salad.

It has been really hard getting back into the groove this week after being off for two glorious weeks.  For two weeks, there was no work, no school (which really means no making lunches and supervising homework) and no extracurricular activities.  We had more than one pyjama day and with the exception of a possessed Furbie who seemed to follow me everywhere, things were pretty quiet in our household.  

I don’t want to bore you with the details, but since Monday it has been pedal to the metal, balls to the wall busy.  Homework ramped up, activities are non-stop (Grace is in the pool 5x a week now) and I feel like a phone is attached to my ear for 8 hours a day with work.  And the noise levels, my god the noise levels.  I posted on Facebook the other day asking the FB world if there is a volume control button on a Furbie.  I should have asked something similar about the members of my family.  They all talk sooooo loudly.  And they all talk at me.  And they all talk loudly at me all of the time.  And they all talk loudly at me all of the time AT the same time.  They are not even necessarily in the same room as me – they just randomly yell things at me from different rooms of the house.  Sometimes they don’t really have anything to say – they just yell my name to know that I am there.  The way they yell makes me think they have severed a finger, but when I react the news the have for me is usually pretty effing mundane. 

I just want to give you a snapshot of one day.  One freaking day in my household. You know what?  Not even a day.  Just see what I have to deal with in 5 short hours.

6 am.  The one quiet moment of the day.  I get my coffee, toast, log into work, read my emails prepare for the day.  Give myself some positive self-talk to start the day right.

6:45 am.  Right.  Forget to make lunches last night.  That’s ok.  Stay positive Karen.  This won’t take but a sec.

7-8 This part of the day has too many curse words, it basically involves waking the kids and getting them out the door.  They make it out alive, and sometimes that is the all the positive self-talk I need.  

8-3 Work.  I work from home, it’s lovely.  I have a beautiful office, my colleagues are wonderful, I connect with partners on the phone, I feel very in control and in charge of things.  

3-3:30 Continue to work.  Grace is home now, she is easy to manage, but part of my brain has shifted from work mode to domestic mode because……

Grace has to be at dryland training for 4.  Edie has be picked up by 4.  We are out of milk, a stick of butter and bread (where is that Sesame Street kid when you need him?) At 3:45 I get a call from a swim mom – her car has broken down off the highway, can I come get her kid and bring her to practise?  Go to Timmy’s to placate Edie, she likes routine and wants to go home.  Try to explain the good samaritan thing to her, how we help friends out in need, but I had her at sprinkle donut.  Get the friend, get her to practise, get home, hop back in car to pick them up 10 minutes later.  Edie, now sugar crashing, does not like this news one bit but sucks it up.  We go get Grace and her friend, get home, start Edie on her homework.  Usually she is a star at sitting down and doing her work, but last night she was bananas, bouncing all over place and being a real pill (ummmm, sprinkle donut anyone?)  And then the mother of Grace’s friend came and then Jo came home and…..you know what?  I’m going to cut to the chase here.  After all this we finally managed to sit down and eat dinner.  A beautiful, healthy dinner.  A mushroom quinoa soup and a gorgeous salad.  A moment for us to nourish our souls and come together as a family, chatter about our day and enjoy each other’s company.  That is always the hope.  Everyday I am optimistic (to the point of being stupid) that we will have a nice, calm family meal.  So, last night took the cake.  Here.  Look for yourself:



Mmmm, yummy. Baby greens, hothouse tomatoes, avocado, and swiss cheese.  Delish.  Oh wait, what’s that?  Let’s take a closer look.


Hmmm, something is amiss.  Something just doesn’t look right.  Let’s zoom in one more time:



It’s an effing tooth.  It’s Grace’s molar to be specific.  Right in the middle of my salad.

Needless to say dinner was not peaceful.  Leading up to this incident, Grace was having a cow over her wiggly tooth.  Grace has a cow over everything these days so we generally ignore her.  Then she pulled the molar out (oops, I guess it was wiggly)- she was gracious enough to leave the table to do this, but not gracious enough to come back to the table waving the bloody, pulpy thing to show us.  Then, being Howard Hughes (that is seriously her nickname) she washed the molar vigorously with soap and water.  She insisted I take the molar for closer inspection.  While I was looking at it, Edie knocked my elbow and in slow motion we all watched the tooth fall and land on my plate.

I don’t really need to type anymore, do I.  This is my life people.  Tonight will be different though.  Tonight we WILL have a great family together, right?  Right?