Monday, October 22, 2012

Moving with Kids and Pets

Today is moving day. We're moving into a nearby rental house for about six months while some remodeling happens on our home in Houston. I'm 5.5 months pregnant so my inner planner is in high gear. It's mornings like today that remind me that there are just some things in life that aren't meant to be planned out with details. Go with the flow, Megan. I'm trying.

Last night, we finished most of the packing since the movers would arrive between 8:30-9:30 am Monday. After getting our daughter to bed and reassuring her (and calming down her intense excitement about the move), I bathed so that I'd be ready for Monday. We went to bed early too. The dog lay on his pet bed beside the master bed. The cat, who had been crying about not being able to join the master bedroom, was in the end allowed to enter the master bedroom so he wouldn't wake up our daughter. He took his place between my pillow and my husband's. Whatever.

Fast forward to 5 am. I wake up to the cat pawing at me and the comforter. I shoo him away, thinking he was trying to play like he usually does in the early mornings. Shortly after that, he returned and I tried to ignore his pawing again, only to be awakened by wet sheets. Yep, he urinated on top of my comforter, which went through the comforter, through the sheets, onto my leg and PJs to the mattress cover.

I sprang from the bed, yelling a word that I shouldn't, of course waking up my husband. I blabbered some sort of explanation and ran into the bathroom, where I proceeded to take a bath without removing my PJ top. I think I thought I could continue wearing the shirt because it had not gotten soaked by the cat, but I was also half asleep. I bathed quickly since I could hear my husband grumbling as he removed the bed sheets. I drained the tub and climbed out to learn that I had no towels because everything had been packed. I dried myself using the shower curtain, walked into the bedroom where my husband said: "Are you sure this wasn't you?
really?  "No, it wasn't me," I said strongly. "Why in the world would a full-grown adult pee on herself?"

My husband, not dressed for public viewing, carried the duvet & duvet cover to the outside trash can. Neither of us were pleased with the quality but the urine threw us over the edge. Upon returning inside where I was laughing, my husband helped me grab the sheets and take them to the laundry downstairs. It was 5:30 am. I finished adding soap to the load and returned to my unsheeted bed upstairs. I was still laughing when I heard my 7-year-old shout out: "Can you two turn it down some? I'm trying to sleep." She acts like this is a regular occurrence.

I barely had laid down when I heard my husband ranting downstairs. What have I forgotten to do now?

When I entered the kitchen, my husband explained that in the medlem, we didn't let the dog go outside so he decided to urinate on the kitchen floor. My husband stood with a wet mop in his hand, looking incredulous. He continued his hysterical rant while mopping the floor at about 5:40 am. When he mentioned some crazy things that he might do to add to the nut house, I burst into laughter so hard that... wait for it... I peed on the floor! (Yes, it's true and I just admitted it to everyone.) I ran, still laughing, to the downstairs bathroom and my husband shouted "Oh, well why not you too? Anyone else?" There was no toilet paper in the bathroom since I packed that too, so my husband brought me paper towels. Lovely.

He mopped the rest of the floor, cracking up himself. "Should I put the dog out now?" I asked.

"Oh, he's outside getting the second half out," Trent replied.

After scrubbing our hands, we returned upstairs, crawled on top of the bed and I shut my eyes. I could feel him staring at me so I opened my eyes again.

"See you in 11 minutes," Trent said. It was 6:04 am. "(God) never gives me more than I can handle," he repeated over & over softly with a little giggle in his voice. No, he doesn't but he will give you plenty of smiles along the way, I thought.

The alarm rang early this morning, but we got dressed and headed out for breakfast. No need to set the house on fire. Besides Little K spilling chocolate milk ALL over her white uniform blouse, breakfast went smoothly. Luckily, I had spare uniforms in the car since everything had been packed.

We arrived at school in time for announcements so we could see Cousin Claire dance on stage. The morning drop-off was a success despite a few early morning obstacles. At this point, the day has to get better. Hope this tale makes you laugh.

Until the next nap time..