Weirdest weekend ever – or so it feels! OK, so this past weekend was my work weekend, 25 hours in 36 hours plus commute, so per me being unavailable on a weekend the kiddo and I pack up and bunk at my folks house. If you have gotten a inkling to my relationship with my folks this would seem an odd enough set up to begin with, oh and sometimes the kiddo’s bio-dad picks her up to drop her off at his mom’s house…..when his car has not been repossessed. Oddly enough, this is the new norm, not knocking anyone just giving you the set up to the weirdness that is our normal.
In packing up, I pack my lunch for work for both days as my folks go to the store only on occasion and it is not their job to feed me nor should I ever expect that again. I usually try and make Sunday’s lunch a bit of a treat in some way per having time to prepare on Friday and the fact that by lunch at work on Sunday I am already burnt out on the weekend. This week’s special was a ham and cheese on a pretzel roll with mustard, real chips (not veggie), and yogurt that is supposed to taste like some sort of cake, mouthwatering. So I dropped off the kiddo Saturday morning before work along with our stuff – including Sunday’s special treat and off to work I go.
I return 13 hours later, shower, and head to the fridge to prepare dinner and I see it or don’t rather…my lunch bag is gone and all that remains is half of my special sandwich. I try to remain calm as I am already hangry at this point and ask my mom “where is my lunch?” After a response of “what” due to not being able to hear me, my mom explains that she thought that was Sarah’s lunch that she therefore sent with her when she dropped the kiddo off for a morning visit at repo land. So I go the “the book” containing the kiddo’s info during visits and indeed she ate everything in the bag…except for the sandwich half and chips. I do my best to remain calm after heating my dinner and ask if any sandwich half/chips remained, the answer is no, I know my kid can’t chomp a hoagie that large, and half my answer – my ex-husband just ate my main dish for the next day’s work food. If you know me at all, you know I don’t let even the kiddo eat my food (don’t worry I feed her), so imagine my surprise at the mental then verbal statement of “my ex-husband ate my sandwich?!” I mean come on! At that point all I could do was laugh because I mean seriously.
So tonight I return from my 13 hours away and my father is sitting in my mother’s chair, my mom is on the couch in my dad’s spot (they are aging and this is now a strange occurrence), I walk in and oh look – there is kiddo. I was totally thrown for a loop as she was to be asleep for a quiet exit to home. Nope. Over-tired and wide awake as my folks informed me that she cried after being put down in their over-sized pack n’ play, then quiet happened, then their door opened and out she came. Climbed out of that sucker somehow and here she was. We are having some “go back to sleep” as I see the door handle turn issues at home as well. So I loaded up the car, packed up some pizza that was left for me (nice card folks, nice card), and off we went for a quiet ride home. Then the diagnoses formally known as aspie shows up via the atypical kiddo we know and love– insane conversation on the way home, I can’t even begin to tell you.
The kiddo is finally asleep at 9:30 so I am finally safe to unload the car and get that pizza and figure out how the heck tomorrow is going to work out in a short amount of time before passing out. However, not before I leave you with the image of paperwork that lies next to me, yes L to the YN this is your life: