Greg and I went out to Universal Studios on Saturday for our 17th anniversary. We had a really good time and at the end of our fun in the park, our neighbors met us at City Walk. It was a great way to celebrate! The boys stayed at Grammy and Papa’s over night where I picked them up the next morning at about 9:30. Being that the full moon was on the rise over the weekend only to fill out to a nice plump, glowing globe on Monday, January 9, 2012 at 2:30 a.m. EST, here is the timeline and sequence of all the events that happened over the preceding 48 hours. Tell me if you think that giant orb has any influence?
As I said, we dropped the boys off Saturday morning, so I didn’t know some of this info until after I picked them up on Sunday.
5pm: Pierce falls asleep for the night, but Grammy and Papa don’t know this yet.
7:30pm: Mikey goes to bed.
8:30-9pm: Grammy goes to bed with concerns that it could be a long night given the early retirement of the tot.
2am: Pierce wakes up in a mound of fire ants.
2am and some seconds: Grammy rescues Pierce, wipes off all the fire ants, and takes him with her back to bed in the guest bedroom with Mikey.
2am and some more seconds: Pierce responds to his new habitat with a series of “no’s” tried out in different timbers and inflections to figure out the best way he can convey that this is not a suitable resolution to his 2am wake-up call.
2:02am: I’m guessing on the time on this part, but I assume he discovered rather quickly that crying got a better result than “no” five hundred different ways. Grammy takes him into the room where he was sleeping and sits with him in the chair.
Moments later…Mikey discovers he’s alone in bed in a strange place (because he only just met Grammy and Papa earlier that day) and wanders into where Grammy and Pierce are in the chair, where he lies down on the floor to try to resume sleeping.
Sometime even later…Pierce decides he’s ready to get up, and so is Mikey. Mikey and Grammy watch cartoons for a while. Pierce eventually passes back out on the floor as well as his brother, but no such luck for Grammy. (No wonder she was off at church when I came to pick up the boys—she was likely at confession for all her evil thoughts toward her grandsons in the wee hours of that morning.)
9:30am. Sunday—the boys and I grab some breakfast and bring it home to daddy.
10:30am: Pierce and Mikey are amped up, but the three of us hang out in my bed from noon until 3 or 4 reading, watching cartoons, snoozing. It’s really kind of a relaxing afternoon.
Somewhere between 4 and 8pm: Mikey starts having a stomach ache and decided it gives him much more relief not to poop—because stomach cramps aren’t the body’s way of trying to expel something or anything like that.
Ongoing…we still argue about using the bathroom or going to bed. Going to bed ultimately wins.
5pm or thereabouts: Dave comes down to watch the Steelers-Broncos game. We hang out for a bit debating over what to do about dinner, since I need to get to the grocery store.
5:45pm: Went outside to take pictures of the beautifully but relentlessly mischievous moon.
6pm: Greg has pizza cards that if you order one you get a second one free, so we decide on that. He called it in, and about 20 minutes later—at half-time, he and Dave head out to pick it up since it’s a whole lot cheaper that way. Or so we thought…
6:45pm: I am still wrestling with the poopless wonder, while shopping new cars on Nissan USA, since they talked to us about trading my lease in, and the phone rings. Naturally, it’s Greg, because he can’t pick up food at the grocery store without calling me 10 times, why should pizza be any different.
6:45:30pm: Greg says (in his normal voice) “Just calling to let you know we’ve been in a car accident.” What? My car? What happened? Are you hurt? Is Dave?—Yes. I pulled out onto Lake Mary Boulevard and was driving east when a girl in an SUV must have tried switching lanes about that time colliding her front passenger side with my front driver’s side. The car is pretty banged up. No, we are fine and so is she. I gotta go the police are on their way. The accident happened about 150 yards from where I pulled out onto the street.
6:45 until 7:45pm: I cope with the irony of the fact I was shopping new cars when I got the phone call—it made me feel really ungrateful. I cope with the fact that my car is smashed. I cope with the way of the universe, and that dumb girl driver. I begin to work on letting these thoughts go, and try to think of the positives like: Everyone is fine. The car still runs. We have good insurance. It’s my car and not Greg’s truck which we are not ready to replace since it is paid for. Maybe they’ll have to fix the small dent in my driver’s side door from a stray firework at our neighborhood party on New Year’s 2011. Really…it’s only a car.
7:30pm: I put Pierce in his crib and sit in the chair and read while he tries everything not to go to sleep.
7:45pm: Still sitting, Pierce is still fighting sleep, Greg get’s home.
7:47pm: I learn that Greg was cited with the accident to the tune of $165. Even though Greg and Dave explained their story, the cop bought the girl’s story. Apparently on the scene of the accident all three people involved said on more than one occasion that they were all fine, no need for emergency vehicles. As the cops were wrapping up the situation and citing Greg with the responsibility, suddenly two cars of people show up at the girl’s side—followed by a fire truck and an ambulance. Greg suspects that it became much more imperative to be checked out by EMT’s when the other party involved saw him sign the ticket accepting responsibility. Who knows…we considered going to court, but how much would that cost? I feel for our insurance company. Although there was no insurance information exchanged between the girl and Greg, I imagine she’ll find a way to contact us. We’ll see…
7:50pm: I check out my car. It’s pretty shocking to see my girl banged-up. When I come back in the house, I also learn that Pierce finally knows how to climb out of his crib because he’s standing in the living room greeting us with rosy cheeks and big brown eyes.
7:55pm: I return Pierce to his crib and continue my vigil in the glider in his room.
8:00pm: I hear Greg on the phone with the insurance company. As I plop down on the sofa as a show of solidarity. I begin to eavesdrop on the phone call. I also notice that Greg is watching his Steelers in overtime against the Broncos, wherein he witnesses-mid conversation with the insurance company—the Bronco’s score and dash Greg’s dream of yet another Superbowl with the Steelers. Not only that—IT’S THE BRONCOS! I’m beginning to wonder if Tim Tebow’s god has horns and a pointy tail. (Greg throws his pen at my laptop, because that is as much as he can express while on the phone with the claims department.)
8:45pm: Greg takes 100 Tylenol p.m. and tries to go to sleep forever. Just kidding! He took two, which for him could probably still achieve the same result.
9:30pm: I’m tired too…I wonder why? I take a nice soak in the tub, grab my nook and read a bit in bed.
9:45pm: Lights out!
9:50pm: Mikey is in my room gripping his stomach. I get out of bed and follow him to what I think is going to be the bathroom and he veers off toward the living room. “Where are you going?” “I’m wanna watch TV” “Ahhh—no! It’s bedtime—use the bathroom and then back to bed.” “Mommy, lay down with me.” “No, Mikey. You need to use the bathroom.” He responded by rolling over and dozing off, so I left his light on and went back to bed.
12:30am: Pierce is screaming in a pile of fire ants, again! I get up and try to get him to lie back down while I sit in the chair, but he’s not having it. So he sits with me and squirms repeatedly to get comfortable which when he does, doesn’t last long.
Somewhere around 1:15am: I’m tired of Pierce moving around, so I try for the second time to put him back in his crib to which he tells me “No” in a very firm yet baby-like voice, and begins to scream. I leave him standing in his crib, and sit back down in the chair thinking surely he’ll tire himself out quickly and go to sleep.
1:45am: Still screaming…nerves are shot, and I am pissed! I finally just leave and go back to bed. Let him cry until morning!
2:00am: Greg hears a screaming monster through his self-induced coma, and rescues him—but doesn’t rescue me! He brings him to our bed, where Pierce goes to sleep immediately and so soundly that he didn’t even move until 7:30 this morning.
7:30am: Mikey miraculously uses the bathroom, and I feel much better about sending him to school.
8:10am: I drive Mikey to school on gas fumes in Greg’s truck, but thankfully get to the gas station before I am stranded.
8:45am: Arrive home, to Pierce and Daddy ready to take my car to the body shop after photographing all the damage.
10:20am: Car is dropped off, find out it could be 10 days to a month before I get her back. Rental car is picked up. The morning begins to slow down.
11:45am: Greg says, “Wanna take your new car out for a spin?” “Sure”
11:55am: Car is quite nice. Greg’s cell rings—it’s the school, Mikey’s stomach hurts. We go and get him, and spend another afternoon similar to yesterday’s. Hopefully we won’t repeat the events of last evening. NOBODY IS GOING ANYWHERE, TONIGHT!
To all of my friends and family just hearing about this, we didn’t want to over-dramatize the situation by worrying them before we had the situation under control.