Aug 8, 2011

Weekend at Catie's



It was a lovely week, despite dog derailment, loss of laptop and continued footwear destruction. (See previous post)
Mostly beautiful weather, almost unheard of in August, even got the tshirt and thongs out. (which the dog then destroyed)
As the week rolled on, the weekend loomed as hectic but fun. (so many things to do, so many places to be, so many shoes to replace)
Thursday and Friday were spent in a flurry of shopping and phone calls and messages organising our coming days. (including overseas travel for the Husband where he will undoubtedly need to buy more shoes)
As Son walked out the door for Uni on Friday he announced he would not be home for dinner as he had a birthday celebration to attend and he would therefore see us some time noted as 'whenever'. (and was given a brief lecture on the complexities of sharing not just a bathroom with your family, but the politeness of also sharing information and meal arrangements more than five minutes in advance. And was told to put his shoes away)
Daughter came home from school, and despite being given two weeks to find out more details and make transport arrangements for her Saturday night social outing to a birthday party (as Husband, myself and Son also had separate social plans) announced that she had failed to do so yet, but was 'working on it'. (and was yelled at for not getting it done sooner and had this situation compared to her schoolwork, where she has two weeks to do an assignment and with one day to go is just starting to 'work on it'. And was told to put her school shoes away)
Daughter and I cool off for a while, then reconvene later to continue the argument and lament her time management skills, during which I suddenly ask "Where is the dog?" Daughter looks out the window and replies "On the back lawn chewing something." "Can you go out and see what it is?" "Why can't you?" At which point I move to look out of the window and in my I'm-going-to-fucking-scream-in-a-minute voice I say "Well, she's chewing your school shoes." (and Daughter is then told in my most adult, mature voice she will have to attend school on Monday looking like a hobo with chewed shoes because it's her own damn fault, ner ner ne ner ner)
I did feel bad for yelling at her, and since I was going out later, wanted to enjoy myself and not feel miserable, I decided to apologise to Daughter. I went into her room and was greeted with "AND WHADDYA WANT NOW?" to which I replied "Well, I WAS coming in to apologise for yelling but instead I think I'll just point and laugh at your Hobo shoes. Ner ner ne ner ner." (I think she may have hurled a Hobo shoe at my retreating figure, not certain)
I attended a lovely dinner with The Ladies; Kirsty, Bianca and Lucy (which Lucy wrote about here, far more eloquently than I. I would have included swear words and told everybody that Kirsty travelled all the way from Qatar just to meet me) leaving behind a grumpy Daughter and a confused Husband to sort their own dinner plans and shoe inventory. (and I didn't even look at your shoes, Ladies, sorry)
Saturday dawned, as did the realisation I had no gift for my Mother, whose birthday celebration we were attending that afternoon. I decided she needed a new jumper and matching scarf and so we headed to Rivers. (partly because it is two minutes from our house and partly because they also have shoes)
Whilst selecting from the vast array of knitwear available (there were four jumpers left) I spotted out the corner of my eye a pair of shoes (okay, I admit the shoes were about twenty metres away from the jumpers) which would have been ideal for Daughter's outfit that evening and promptly dispatched Husband to go home and get Daughter whilst I guarded the shoes. (see? It's not all about ME. The fact that I hoped her feet had grown to be the same size as mine, therefore enabling me to borrow them is neither here nor there)
Daughter likes shoes, we buy them (not in my size unfortunately) and one of the four jumpers, then stopped off to buy cards, wrap, sushi, etc. As you do. (but no shoes for me. In my hormonal state, this was not good, but I knew there would be cake and chocolate at Mum's)
Gift-wrapping, card-writing, makeup-applying, hair-combing and we're off. Well, Husband and I were off to Mum's (an excruciating afternoon tea consisting of relatives, toddler tantrums and cupcakes), Daughter was off to bedroom to sort shoes, outfit and homework (probably in that order) and Son was off to basketball. (no shoes were left out for the dog; we were learning)
Somehow, about two hours later, we found ourselves dealing with a son in shock, and blood, loads of it. A deliberate tripping and subsequent faceplant on the basketball court led to a gashed chin, a split and swollen lip, a broken tooth, a bucketload of blood and an urgent phone call to our Dentist friend, who we were due to have dinner with three hours later. (being a Dentist, I can't tell you his name or show you his face, but I could show you the back of his head. Or maybe his shoes)
So whilst Husband and Son ran around like headless (and toothless) chooks, finding out what happens when a Dentist tries to access his own surgery out-of-hours on a Saturday and discovering just how loud and annoying alarms are when you're the ones breaking in, I was holding the fort at home, rearranging all the evening's plans for us, Daughter and Son which were now in jeopardy, fielding and making phone calls, and helping Daughter do makeup, straighten hair and coaching her on how to walk. (at this point I should say she CAN walk, but only in flats. She is the ultimate tomboy and this was her first attempt at leaving the house in makeup and heels. Sometimes I have doubts that she is mine... at least until she speaks)
Whilst Daughter learned about vertigo, centre of gravity, and the reason we have toes, the boys learned about i-bond, flowable resin, distals, exposed pulp, mandibles, enamel, exposed dentines, and the word 'interproximally'. Basically, the broken tooth got glued back as a temporary measure. (wonder if I can use that stuff to glue some of my shoes back together)
Managed to get Daughter to her destination on time, just; managed to get Son home safely, if not a little sore and distressed and talking with a lisp, and managed to get to our dinner, albeit a little late. But that was okay, since the others were late too, because some inconsiderate sod broke a tooth and asked him for help on a Saturday, how rude. Yeah, yeah, very funny. (I wore my high heeled boots and almost slipped on some wet steps on leaving the restaurant, that would have been a riotous way to end the day)
Came home to find Husband had not closed bedroom door properly and I have one more ruined shoe. (and spend some time pondering why the dog only seems to chew one of a pair, then moves onto one of a different pair. Why not chew both of the same pair? I have no idea either)
Sunday greets us warily and we decide to do as little as possible, thereby lessening our chances of things going wrong, and increasing our surveillance of the dog's klepto activities. Husband starts packing gear for week in Sydney, then caves into Daughter's moaning about her Hobo school shoes, takes her to buy new ones, leaving bedroom door open again, resulting in me losing the inner sole of yet another shoe. (we buy a shoe, we lose a shoe, we buy a shoe, we lose a shoe...)
We spent the afternoon watching football and keeping constant tabs on the dog and our bedroom doors. (and keeping our shoes on our feet)
And here we are, we made it to Monday, with less blood, teeth and shoes, but all relatively safe and sound.
Except for Daughter's brand new high heels.
Dog destroyed them last night.

4 comments:

  1. I adore you! "fun" times at yours that result in brilliant blog-post fodder. LOVE it. xxxxxxx

    ReplyDelete
  2. Spend one day following the dog around with a spray bottle. Every time he touches a shoe, spray him in the face. If the spray doesn't seem to work (i.e. if he likes it too much) set the nozzle on jet and hit him hard. Also try spraying shoes with some sort of pet repellant, check your vet or pet store for hints.
    I would have made the girl wear the hobo shoes for at leastone day to drive the lesson home.

    ReplyDelete
  3. sounds like an eventful weekend... Hope the coming week is better.

    ReplyDelete
  4. OK. So what you're telling me Cate that my life right now will continue but with just different variants forever?

    Thanks, I feel a little better. A little. Hope this week contains no blood. Zero x

    ReplyDelete

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