Ok, you hopefully read the original block, Messy Bad Day. This is the next installment.Or maybe it is the next installment of Walkabout. My wish was that my day would improve. Wellll…my friends if wishes were fishes today I might have an ocean.
I went to pick up Princess at school. I zigged when I should have zagged and got onto Idaho Falls lovely curvy meandering roads.I finally admitted defeat and got out my phone and used the map program. I am so thankful for GPS. That may be a blog in the future.
I get Princess home. I firmly and strongly tell her no going outside due to the episode yesterday (see Girl and Dog Walkabout). Ler me repeat, I said this firmly, strongly and clearly.
Do you see where this might be going?
I suddenly have a bloody nose and a sharp headache. I get the bleeding to stop and lay down on the couch due to the headache. I hear the Teen come home and them talking, more like spatting. I somehow fall asleep. The Teen arrives home approximately around four.
At 4:25 he yells me awake. As I sit back up, my nose begins to bleed again. He’d found Riley, yesterdays walk about companion, tied to a tree on a black leash. We both go outside expecting to see her and Ralphie (German Shepherd / Red Heeled Mix) there with her. Nope, not there. She’d done it again.Gone on another walkabout for minors.
Brandon says he will take his bike, I tell him no as it is raining. I have him help me with my shoes. (If you are new to this blog, read blogs in 2013, that will make it clear why I needed help.) I grab my keys, wallet and cell phone.Leaving a short four word voice mail, “She did it again!”to the Beloved who is in training,
I rush to my trusty silver steed aka Ford Focus. With a wad of kleenex stuffed up my nostril. The steed isn’t so trusty and will not start. I want to kick it but I will fall over. This is not how I can find my baby girl. The Teen wants to go find her, I had told him no due to the rain. So off I go giving my imitation of Chester from Gunsmoke (Google it). Ron calls and tells me to go home, I think he knew snail pace wouldn’t work.
I return home and send out Brandon. I know we might have to call the sherriff department and let them find her. I dread this as I feel like I am now on the list of bad moms. I know that this could be seen as neglect…not just a sneaky little girl. I have visions of a lost hurt child and CPS arriving to chide me and investigate my lack of motherly ESP.
I begin to do dishes as the Teen and the Beloved look for her. If the deputies have to check the house again at least I won’t have dishes in the sink. My stomach is in knots and I am fluctuating from fear and anger.
I hear the door open my baby girl is home but she is in banshee mode. Yelling, screaming, raging. The words are incomprehensible but she is livid. She throws down her blue backpack and runs upstairs. I hear two things thrown. She had taken her high heels.
The Beloved brings Ralphie in and the old man drops on the ground. The Teen isn’t with them, his bike wouldn’t fit in the GMC Terrain. He had taken a header and had a spill and was pushing his broken bike home. Broken chain, twisted handle bars, injured hand, wounded pride and righteous anger at his sister.
The story is; The Teen found her and called the Beloved, she was at the school. (At least this time she found it.) The Teen had told her to stop and come home, she ackwardly ran in her high heels. He caught her,she screamed, he covered her mouth, she bit him. He called her a foul name, she called him a foul name. She then kicked him in the area that every male fears and every woman innately aims at in fear.
By this time the Beloved has arrived. Ralphie is eager to get in the car out of the rain. Not the banshee Princess, it took two males to get 61 lbs of hell cat in the car.
What was in her bag you might ask?
● stuffed animals – Precious and Jackson
● Sunday dress
●her boots and socks
Once home she ranted, yelled and screamed for 22 minutes (yes I timed it.) We let her get it out of her system. Suddenly she was hungry and very tired. We ate and at 7:39, she and I are in our own bed.
I think I may have to handcuff her to me or velcro her to my hip. These two children may be the death of me. The verse that echoes in my head is, “lean not on your own understanding.”
Mighty God, I am leaning heavily on you, I am so glad you can bear my weight.