We haven’t had the best luck lately. It’s felt a little bit like black clouds are hanging over our house. At one point a few weeks ago I took pictures because there were literally black clouds over our house with sunny skies all around. It had appeared to have moved beyond metaphor.
I mean, we have been lucky in that none of the things that have happened are world-ending or life-threatening- and believe me, I’m incredibly grateful for that. But the string of events has me wondering if Sergeant Handsome and I accidentally ran over someone’s pet bunny or something and we’re paying the universe back.
Just between Saturday and Monday, for instance, our oldest son broke a large window in our living room, the water heater gave out and dumped its entire contents onto the garage floor, and our 4-year old rolled out of bed at 4 am and split his chin open (best method for getting blood out of white bedding?). The past two months have been like this. Just one thing after another that goes wrong, breaks, or generally isn’t the best case scenario.
Chuckles was, true to his nickname, just as cheery with a giant cut in his chin as without it. The nurses in the ER just adored him (I’m not just saying that because I’m his mother and believe they should, our room was next to the nurses’ station and we could hear them talking). We spent many, many hours there yesterday- just the two of us. He called it a “doctor date with mommy.” Sure!
I was awesomely entertaining, if I do say so myself. It hadn’t occurred to me to bring any sort of entertainment for him- not that we have any, what with all of our stuff already having been moved out of our house- so I spent five hours flexing my imagination muscles.
I made up a lot of stories, we turned his hospital bed into a boat and went fishing, we hunted for imaginary animals and turned the room into a giant zoo, we added an aquarium to the zoo, we found treasure (and, bizarrely, pretended to clean said treasure… whatever works for you, kid), we flew in airplanes and helicopters. Whew. It’s exhausting to make stuff up for that many hours without break! Ha, I was clearly out of practice.
Once I had exhausted all of my imagination resources, Chuckles took it upon himself to explore the room. And by explore, I mean try to destroy/see how quickly he could add another injury to the list. My only consolation in trying to keep him from climbing up on, jumping off of, spinning around on, and otherwise using the furniture in ways not intended was that I felt pretty confident that the staff would know for sure that my kid is just a wild monkey and I wasn’t just a bad mother that let him get hurt through neglect.
It’s the little things.
And through all of our string of bad luck (or petty annoyances or whatever you want to call it), it really has been the little things that have continued to make us laugh. We have to laugh because even though we’re at the point where people are making “what’s next, locusts?” type jokes to us, at the end of the day we are all still together and healthy (minus three stitches in a chin). So while I’d prefer to be able to go at least three days without dealing with any repairmen or hearing any bad news on the home-selling front, I’m happy to have the most important pieces of my life together.
If I can though, I’d love to add “someone bought my house” to the list of things that are good.
Just putting it out there in the universe.
In case that helps.