- The boys started fighting with each other.
- My horse got gimpy again. VERY gimpy.
- The house is a total and complete wreck (two camping trips in direct succession and a cross-country trip for surgery will do that to a house).
- Ants have invaded and staked out territory in the kitchen.
- Mark and I talked about finances.
Well, I suppose I could have avoided the grief of the last on the list, but unfortunately, it's the month before the "new" year starts (schooling-wise) and I have plans. Big plans. Plus, Toby and I spent a couple days at the beach with Mark's sister and brother-in-law, and that got me to thinking how much our family needs a beach vacation. A vacation that doesn't involve surgery, as Ben would say.
And so the cash register started to b-rr-rr-rr-ing!
But the first four on the list, well, those just got me off on the wrong foot. I was literally in tears about Tess, my horse, who was doing great (just benignly neglected of late) foot-wise. She was very gimpy last year, but I healed her. And now, she's worse than before. Sigh. It feels as if any left over energy I might have gets funneled into someone with a chronic medical condition. Double sigh.
The morning hit its peak, though, when Toby and Ben were fighting over the breakfast table. Ben was feeling sorry for himself and apparently Toby and I weren't showing enough sympathy for his plight. (I was already taxed, having spent a couple hours dealing with Tess and calling various people who might have some insight and come to my aid.)
"I am feeling terrible about my life because of all the things I can't do!" he grumped.
"Oh, what things can't you do?" I asked, definitely not showing my usual compassion.
"Well, bungee jumping and sky diving," he said.
"You can do those when the rod comes out," I said.
"When I'm 19! I have to wait until I'm 19!" he said.
"How many people do you know who sky dive and bungee jump before they are 19? You'll just have to wait!" I wasn't getting any points for best mom here.
The conversation stopped but he glared at us. I returned to the reason for our raised voices: he had been calling Toby "stupid."
"Maybe you're not in the right frame of mind to go visit your friends today," I warned. Plans had already been made with Victor and Alex, two of Ben's favorite buds.
"No! You can't cancel that!" he and Toby shrieked together.
And then Toby burst into tears.
"Please don't cancel that!" he cried.
"Why are you crying, Toby?" Ben asked. "They aren't even your friends."
"Because," sob, sob, sob, "I just want you to have fun!" sob, sob, sob.
"But why are you crying about it?" Ben asked again, clueless.
"Because," Toby choked out, "I'm a mensch and mensches care more about other people than they do about themseeeeeeeellllllvvvves!" Oh boy! It was quite the moment, I can tell you.
Ben's eyes got pretty wide at that point, awareness dawning. Things calmed down. Apparently, Toby had justified himself and Ben apologized for his snarkiness. Moments later we rallied to get the car packed up for the day.
Suddenly, sobs rang out again. Ben and Toby had collided and Ben's back, specifically the exact spot where his adjustable growing rod attaches to his ribs, was in the epicenter of the collision.
Ben cried. And then, Toby cried. I stood and held one boy under each arm, patting them gently. "Ok, guys, it's gonna be ok," I said.
With that kind of morning, who needs nightmares?