What a Monday yesterday was!
I did clean. Holy cow, I purged like I haven't in years. I was evil. I tackled my closet. If I had not worn an item in the last appropriate season - out, if I had two just like each other - out, if it didn't fit this very moment - out! I even packed up shoes! Shoes, ooooh. I love shoes and am very controlled with acquiring them because I'm a stay at home mom but still - out. Three and a half contractors' bags to Big/Little Sistahs.
Then horror upon horror. I sorted through books. I love books. I am not careful or restrained when acquiring books. I want books, I love books and sometimes I sleep with books - they make a lovely crease on my face while I leave my drool mark upon them. But I was tough, in that kind of mood, and I purged my books. The library likes to receive my book donation because it is as if they haven't been read (except page 234's drool circle). If I had no plans to reread or use them as reference in the future - out.
I also cleaned Oldest Son's bathroom. Had to chemicalized it TWICE. I love him but he's a disgusting boy. I taught him to clean his bathroom much better than this. Ugh. We need to paint and re-grout the tiles, I scrubbed so hard. In fact, Hubby doesn't know it yet but we are going to redo that room from top to bottom.
I was also able to do all my regular chores. I was a houseonfire! yesterday. Notice I said yesterday. :D
The best part of yesterday was I spoke with Oldest Son probably five times! I love cell phones. He called me after his first class, after his second class, after his third class, from his room to tell me to check my email for pictures of his dorm room and finally to give me a heads up about his coming home this weekend (but going immediately to New Hampshire with friends).
I was even able to say "goodbye, I love you" by the fifth call without the catch in my voice! I am so bloody mature, I scare myself.
Hubby was very impressed with the state of the house when he came home from work. He has known me for over 25 years ... do you think he would connect the dots between giant cleaning purges and getting his head handed to him? Apparently not. (I did speak with him for a good long time last night and by this morning he realized I had some valid points which he�d better start acting upon TODAY.)
Anyway, he offered to take me out to dinner because I had worked so hard during the day, which was just an excuse - we do dinner out all the time. However, I accepted without hesitation.
I had decided I was going to be relaxed, clever and so interesting at dinner. It was easy because we met up with a bunch of nice people and our friend, Nicole, was tended the restaurant. New people always think I'm something special. People who know me, well ... no, they still love me, at least to my face.
We had a really nice time at dinner, even sat there for over three hours. I was relaxed and, I think, witty. I don't know about clever because I did drink two glasses of wine, so your guess is as good as mine. (I'm kinda a lightweight when it comes to booze).
We were just saying goodbye when my phone rang. It was Youngest Son and we had to pick him and SoccerGirl up IMMEDIATELY. That hadn't been the plan and I asked why. Apparently SG's dad was losing his mind, screaming, throwing things around the house and verbally attacking SG. There are two other sisters in that family, the youngest was asleep in her bedroom and the second oldest was on her computer in her bedroom. SG's dad has a tendency to attack SG. I think it's because she resembles her mother in a number of ways and the adults are having the most bitter, never ending divorce while still living in the same home. It doesn�t work.
We ran into SG's mom at the restaurant, we socialize with her lightly but often. She left a few hours earlier to go visit with her boyfriend so I couldn�t tell her what was happening. SG's dad knows she has a life separate from him and he has a life of his own, but that doesn't hold him back from his tirades when something sets him off.
Knowing how dramatic Youngest Son can be when he wants his own way I was not expecting anything too big. We pulled up and they were already walking toward the car. We usually have to call his cell phone, he doesn't pick up, call her cell phone, she answers and says "we'll be right out..." right after she does this and that and they find their lost shoes and then he remembers he left his keys by the tv, blah, blah, blah. Hubby moved to the front passenger�s side and I hopped in the back seat because we let YS drive as much as possible. He opened the door for her and she literally oozed in. She was sobbing.
She slid right over to me, pressed her skinny self into my side as I put my arm around her. That girl is boney! But that's beside the point. When she could finally speak without crying or coughing she shared some of the things he had yelled and said to her.
Only because I knew it was not the right thing for SG, YS or Hubby, I did not ask YS to turn the car around so I could go rip him a new a**hole. Oh my God. Do people not realize the damage words can do? I don't think he hit her this time, YS was there the whole time and the cops weren't on the way to arrest him for attempted murder which could be the scenario if he pissed OS off enough. He was already beet red.
That little girl's body trembled and shivered in her sorrow all the way home. There is no excuse. Even if she was being dramatic, which I didn�t think so even before hearing YS�s version, she was clearly destroyed. She was able to get a hold of her mother before we got there to tell her she was coming home with us and then again when we got here. Her mother had decided to not go home knowing really bad things would happen to her.
This is no way to live.
I will be sticking my nose in where it may not be welcomed. I don't care. Not one person stood up for me as a child when I was being physically, emotionally and verbally abused and I will not be one of those spineless wastes of skin.
The other two daughters were "safe." He never tears into them, they are victims by having to witness the evil that goes on between mom, dad and the runoff onto SG.
These people need to finish their divorce and live in separate houses. Like three years ago.
Heavy sigh.
Reliving that heavy sigh I just remembered reading Ski Big Ski's entry this morning. Buffalo Bill, her sweet little poodle, crossed right from her arms to the Rainbow Bridge last night. If you are so inclined please send her a hug or kind word.