Address:

PO Box 3523

Littleton, CO 80161

Crazytown

July 28, 2015

 Sometimes life is so wild that it requires documentation.  For your entertainment I will recount the events of my week.  But first, if your life is simple, predictable and organized...don't judge, just enjoy.  However, if your life is as humbling as mine then take comfort in knowing you are not alone.  

 A few days ago I met some friends at a park and like always we greeted each other with "How are you?". Whenever I am asked this question I have to decide in that moment whether I will reply politely, "good" or if I will unleash stories of the most recent events taking place in Crazytown.  Since these particular friends are amazing moms who often have their own craziness, I hesitated. But I didn't want to dump on them so I opted for, "good".  They didn't believe me so they pressed harder.  I told them that is seems difficult to manage all my kids, after all I have four of them.  My sweet friend with six kids asked me, "how many kids do you have at your house? Do you have extras?"  Nope.  Just the four.  Instantly my friends with 5 kids, 6 kids and 8 kids erupted in laughter. I think I will find some new friends with less kids so I can get more sympathy.

 

 

 I have been reflecting since then on what is so hard. Why DOES it feel like Crazytown around my house?

 

 

Maybe it's because our house is a construction zone.  We are having a patio built in the back yard.  It sounds simple enough.  It's not.  With our German Shepard on constant alert and the back door closed off because of the construction, we have a special situation in our home.  Every time someone walks in the front door the dog runs to greet them with her, "I am going to eat you!" bark.  Which  is quickly followed by a wagging tail and plenty of licking.  She could possibly have multiple personality disorder.  The barking could be irritating but understandable when new people come in but, in addition to her extra personalities she has short term memory loss so EVERY time the front door opens she does her, "I am going to eat you!" bark.  

 

It could be grandparents, neighbor kids or a serial killer. All are met with the same greeting.  A simple solution would be to put her in the backyard, right? Oh I've tried.  But in order to pour the foundation for our patio we had to tear down a portion of our fence.  The construction workers threw together a makeshift gate but I don't think it's working because I keep getting texts from my neighbors about a black dog wandering in the cul de sac. So for now we are forced to endure her barking.  Let's do some math: yesterday we had our cable worked on, that is 2 men in and out the front door approximately 10 times. So that equals 20, "I am going to eat you!" barks.  The kids running in and out with the neighbors...approximately 15, "I am going to eat you!" barks. The general contractor = 2, the electrical inspector=2, the tile guy=1.

 

20+15+2+2+1=40.  That is FORTY times adrenaline shot through my body and sent me into fight or flight!

 

 Or maybe it feels like Crazytown because my little kids broke into our next door neighbor's house while they were out of town. Apparently while I wasn't paying attention they found the neighbor's spare key and decided to head over to their house to borrow a toy.  That might seem rational to an eight year old who trades toys with his neighbor friend regularly, except, there was no one home, and the door was locked, and the alarm was on!  They opened the door, set off the alarm and ran in quickly to grab the coveted toy. We found them wide-eyed, holding the toys, still inside the neighbor's house.  Then I had the privilege of calling our neighbors to tell them about the breaking and entering incident.  We walked the perpetrators back home, took away the toys and waited for the police to come.  My eight year old lucked out big time because the police came while my husband and I were in the backyard trying to process yet another exciting day. I wish I could have seen his face as that police car drove into the neighbor's driveway!  He knew he would have had to talk to the policeman and explain the situation if we had seen the police car.  However, by that time we'd talked to our gracious neighbors who talked to their security company who must have told the police that everything was ok.

 

 Or maybe it feels like Crazytown because of the hot car incident.  During a quick stop at home, one child tried to keep the hot summer out of the air conditioned car by closing and locking all the doors with another child in the car.  This is reasonable if the car is still running but I had turned it off before heading inside.  The child that was in the car could actually get out by unlocking the doors but when she tried, the car alarm went off and scared her.  She was so frightened that she closed the door to stop the alarm and sat in the hot car.  I came out a few minutes later and found her crying and sweating in the front seat.  Oh man!  I was livid! I comforted my daughter, found the offending child and put everyone in the car.  As I drove I calmly I started to explain the seriousness of the situation but the more I talked the more angry I became.  After consequences were discussed and I started thinking clearly again I told him, "when I calm down, she calms down and you calm down, you owe her a serious apology!"  To which he respectfully replied, "Mom, I am calm, you are the one who is losing your temper..." Crazytown I tell you!!

 

 Or maybe it's because we have been a part of the adoption community for long enough that we regularly use words like; frontal lobe, triggered, splintered development, triangulation, escalated and dysregulated.  During a particularly stressful morning my teenage son gently took me aside and said, "You know Mom, I really like Regulated Mom more than Escalated Mom."  Well said son, well said.  But it's hard to remain regulated in Crazytown!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or maybe it's the rooster.  In the Spring we bought four chicks and have been raising them for their eggs...just for the record they have not produced a single egg.  But a few weeks ago we noticed one in particular, whose name is Moto Moto, beginning to make a new sound.  We were hoping it was the egg song we have heard about and were excitedly awaiting some eggs.  As it turns out it was the first few syllables of “cock a doodle do”.  It took a few days to decipher the sound but each day it became more and more clear.  My ingenious son was determined to keep Moto Moto despite our city ordinances so he did research and discovered the No Crow Collar.  He ordered it, complete with the red bow tie accessory.  When it arrived we wrangled that chicken and put his new collar on him.  It is supposed to keep the rooster’s throat from expanding while crowing and therefore muffling the sound so it isn’t as loud.  At least that is what I was told by my son.  Unfortunately Moto Moto’s crow was too powerful to be subdued and on one particularly quiet morning at 5:15 I awoke to a crystal clear, extremely loud “cock a doodle do”!  

 

 I am seriously hoping that next week will be calmer even though it is highly unlikely.  Either way, Crazytown is my home and there is no other place I’d rather live.  Most of the time…..

 

AO

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