The Big Fiasco

 I call this one "The Big Fiasco."  Trust me, it's an understatement. I'm thinking of Lemony Snicket.

Meet Goliath.  Or Leviathan.  Or Cthulhu.  I can’t decide.  Let me know what you think.

I was looking forward to Thursday ALL WEEK LONG!  I was going to have the day off (with Matt) and the evening free from appointments, so I could go and enjoy my son's first Big, Big Show (it's a wiggles reference - a very appropriate one at that.  You'll only get it if you've been around awhile.)

Unfortunately, my big, big ideas connected with a whole week of chaos and my circumstances got way out of control...again.  (You guys...I don't know what I'm going to do with me!!) 

Where do I begin?

It started with a stench - a stench, which has been brewing for awhile.  On occasion, of late, I have been caught off guard by a slight odor - I call it  "eau de dog and dudes" - as I entered my (not very private) chambers.  

What the heck??!!  (Don't say that.  It's inappropriate, because it's a reference to something inappropriate.)

Probably don't need to mention, but "eau de dog and dudes" doesn't happen to rank up there among my fave fragrances.  Therefore, I have tried conquering it in a few ways and a few times over a month or two.  

And just when I think I've got it.  Sniff...sniff...UGH!!

I realize what you are thinking.  To get the dog scent out of your room, move the dog.  Obviously.  Well…OBVIOUSLY…you do not fully understand or appreciate the nature of the inseparable bond between MamaJesse,  (If you note we even have a ‘shipped name) and...if you "got it," you would never suggest such nonsense.

Get the picture???!

So, I had it on my brain that I was going to deep clean every inch of the bedroom...STAT!  And on Thursday morning I began with our bedding.

The fiasco officially began when I got to the new blanket.  

I realized I had never washed it, so I didn't really have a strategy.  (We started using it as soon as I finished knitting.). But...I had made the girls each one for Christmas and had no problem washing them in the machine.

This, however, became the first problem in my Series of Unfortunate Events.  I couldn't fit the blasted blanket it in the washer.  Well, actually, I technically did.  But even I was smart enough to recognize it might not be good for the washer to be over-flowing before we began.  I'm not saying he's nagging, but Matt has successfully embedded "too much" into my brain, when it comes to the laundry machines...and things spilling out over the edges definitely qualifies.

Unfortunately, he and I BOTH had the idea to just wash it in the bath tub.

I can't even describe the work it took to get to this point...or the amount of work I didn't know I had coming after.  I cringe when I see these photos.  

I first noticed, with interest, that the bathtub never seemed to fill up with water...like...EVER.  I had to run the water for a really long time before the blanket finally appeared to be even remotely "swimming" in a puddle.   

Curious.  I just kept that water running while I did a few things here and there, until I was satisfied with the ability to push down on the blanket and have a good inch or two of water rise above it.  Then, I just let that puppy soak in the soap.  I was blissfully ignorant of the battle that was about to break.

That realization wouldn't come until after the rinse cycle.  I drained out the inch or so of soapy water, (which was, basically, no problem!  at least that part went fast!) and let the faucet run for awhile.  I wanted to get a little more coverage this time, so there would be enough water to rinse out the soap.  Makes sense, right?  (I realize that there are people out there who may be already seeing the red flags. Please understand common sense is not exactly my kind of smart.  I am different kinds of smart, I promise.  It makes my life - and Matt's - really fun.  (You're welcome, babe! 😉💕)

Realization kicked in about the time I came in to start the final draining process.  The "excess" water drained out of the tub fast enough, but I wasn't having much success with getting the excess out of the blanket.  As it turns out, it seemed to be holding in a LOT of water.  I would squeeze it.  It would release a little bit, but it was never enough to stream up to the drain.  And as soon as I released the pressure, the blanket soaked up whatever had been released.

I tried shifting it and moving it around a bit, but I noticed that I could only pick up the tiniest portions of the blanket at one time, and pulling a small portion had little effect on it's entirety.  

At this point, I realized I had a bit of a confounding problem on my hands, but I was not ready to address the problem with Matt.  (Sometimes, when things are really stressful around here, I like to try to quietly solve whatever issues I can to soften the blows a bit.  That way, if I do have to release stressful information, it goes down a little smoother...and I am able to vent out the stressful information in carefully timed, miniature doses.  Consider it my "sales" tactic.)

Oh, that I were as smart as my boys...sigh.

Unfortunately, it was almost time for my virtual meeting of the day.  And Matt came bouncing around the corner, having prepared the washer "ready to spin and drain" the blanket.  Uh oh.

I was, literally, offended by his innocent optimism.  "Ummmm...ok, yeah...I'm not quite ready yet."  I left it at that and moved on to preparing for the meeting and wrapping up a few other chores.  I didn't even notice his absence, until he came bounding out of the bedroom.

I'm not sure what he had been doing in there, but he had removed his shoes, socks and shirt and had a wild-eyed Crocodile Dundee-type look on his face and his voice appeared excitable.  "I had to strip down and get in the tub.  As soon as I squeeze the water out, it soaks it right back up."

"Yeah, so..."  This is where I give him a brief summary of my oblivious but careless mistakes.

"What are we going to do with this thing?  I can't even LIFT the (bleeping) thing!" 

With my eye on the time and my heart set on fixing the problem I had created, I grabbed my computer and shouted, "Get me a bucket!"

My little Cogsworth.  We were very proud and surprised by this newly uncovered talent.

Thus, began hour upon hour of excruciatingly slow, VERY muscle-straining, wringing.  Endless, painful, body-beating, careful wringing.  One small squirt at a time.  In the beginning, I was wringing in between frantic attempts to log into my meeting.  I set the computer on the toilet, set video and sound to MUTE (you do NOT want to see this train wreck!) and made multiple attempts to find the link.  When that didn't work, I texted.  When that didn't work, I clicked old links to see if they would work.  No go.

I was really starting to flip out, when my supervisor reminded me she is in Spain and the meeting was cancelled.  I responded that I was feeling way better about missing the meeting today.  I didn't have the humility to describe my current situation.  I was just relieved I could move on and focus 100% of my effort and attention on the fiasco at hand.

I will say this much.  It took me ALL day, and a LOT of support to get the blanket to a lift-able weight.  By the end of the evening, after the play, we even got it into the drier for a bit.  Matt insisted the thing would run all night, if I left it, (and, apparently, that’s a bad thing…) so he plopped it across the couches and set up fans.  By day 3, there was only one, tiny damp spot on the bottom...and I got it back on my bed NEVER to be wet-washed again!

What a week!  

The fiasco, the middle school play, grandpa's mass,  a field trip, some important crisis intervention (my specialty!), grad party prep, and all that alongside our every day maintenance - which is, as you know, a full-enough plate.  But wait...there's more.

We were so grateful these two came to the special mass for the boys. 💕

Put this icing on the cake:

I busted my tail all weekend trying to make up for lost time and get my house in order.  Since Matt only had Saturday off, I was in a mad dash to maximize my time and his help.  I pushed hard - despite the fact that I was still feeling every muscle in my body from the wringing marathon. 

I got the laundry in order; I got the dishes in order; I got the eggs cleaned and sorted (after a week of pileup); I got the animals fed (so the rooster would SHUT UP!).  I even got the floors vacuumed and mopped (FINALLY!) in a sweaty sprint before we dashed out the door to take Evan to a play date and enjoy one of our mini-dates at the dog park with Jesse.  

WHEW! You would think I might call that a day...but, of course...you would be wrong.  😁 It was pretty nice out, still, when we got home.  I thought I might just do a little weeding in the raspberry bed.  (It was neglected last year and in pathetic shape, but the squeaky wheel seriously gets the oil around here.)

Right now, it's a daily watch for the asparagus.  This stuff grows so FAST!

So...I pushed through, enduring endless scratches and thorns, until I got ALL the dead cut out while Matt worked on the deeply-rooted PITA junk tree/bushes/whatever-they-are that I can't ever seem to wrestle out of the ground.

I sat, happily, as pictured, to cut up all the large pieces I'd removed.  And about halfway through or so, this ginormous wind gust came blasting through.  All the leaves and debris started flying, and I thought it was going to carry away my bags and all my work.  Alas, all I had left to do was drop my head and cover my eyes and hope for the best.

I heard a thump, like Matt had thrown down the shovel, and when the gust had died, I sat up.  I heard the completely disheartened tone in his voice, "Oh, Kristen."

I thought, "What now?  I can't take whatever is the cause of that depressed, disappointed voice.  What now?"  I envisioned a dead pet or all of our work dumped back onto the ground.

Finally, I drew the courage to look back at him.

So...yeah.  I was...ummmm...pretty fortunate just then.  

The funny thing is, I had literally been thinking we would have to spend the next big outdoor day cutting down that tree.  I guess God took care of it for me.   ✔  I am genuinely grateful the hard part is now done for me (and I didn't die in the process), and now I just get to have fun with my chainsaw in the near future.

I guess it makes up for the lost time I spent battling that stupid blanket this week, huh?  I'll take that blessing, thank you very much!

God seems to be teaching me His literal ability to correct all of my mistakes, and I have to be honest...it gives me confidence and a peace of mind.  I really can do all things through Christ, and He really does work it ALL out toward my good.

In the words of the priest, you can consider me "blessed."

Amen and happy Sunday.  I hope it's better than mine!!  (Which is good.  Today has actually been good.)

I think..."We're gonna make it after all." 🎵