April 19, 2007
things that go bump
I’ve had too many things crashing around in my head this week, the good and the bad and the horrific all bumping into each other in the wee little space that is my frontal lobe (or where ever it is that stuff you can’t stop thinking about goes to torment you). Today I have been Getting Things Done, which has involved a lot of phone calls and two trips to the grocery, and I’m finally feeling like I have the chaos in my brain contained.
Mostly.
This is in our front yard right now:
We had our inspection yesterday, and aside from needing a new hot water heater, we’re pretty much good to go. The very nice home inspector also solved the seven-year-old mystery of what the hell is going on with the damper on our chimney (the lever works but the damper doesn’t, which means that the flue is ALWAYS closed, which explains how we nearly burned the house down the first winter we lived here. Which was the last time anyone used the fireplace, come to think of it). We came in well under the contracted limit for repairs, and none of what we need to do is major, so barring any sort of Act of God, we should be free and clear and ready to close on June 4.
God help us if we’re not.
The inspection took over two hours and involved a whole house full of people either tromping around in their workboots (three home inspectors and a termite guy) or sitting at my kitchen table (both of my realtors and the buyer’s realtor) or wandering through my house with tape measures (the buyer and her sister and two friends). Everyone was very genial and pleasant but it was a long morning of PEOPLE EVERYWHERE, which was nerve-wracking in itself, but especially so on top of all the stuff in my head.
I’ve spend the past few days awash in the story of the Virginia Tech shootings, which has worn me down in a completely different way. Last night I listened to NPR’s interview with VA Tech student Clay Violand, who was in a French class where eleven students and a professor died. Violand talks about hiding under a desk with another student, a young woman who had been shot; he says “I was looking at her in the eyes most of the time when we were under those desks, just, kind of, staying human.”
Of the thousands and thousands of words that I have read and heard this week about what happened in Blacksburg on Monday, that particular sentence, that small reference to maintaining eye contact, to “staying human,” is the most powerful and sad and redeeming thing of all.
Tomorrow, Friday, is an official day of mourning, in Virginia and across the nation, for the 32 students and faculty who died Monday. Of course, what we’re mourning is more than just the loss of those lives; we’re mourning the loss of a way of life. The Virginia Tech Alumni Association is asking people everywhere to wear maroon and orange, in a show of solidarity with the students and faculty and families of Virginia Tech. But I think that what they’re really hoping for is a return to that ability to be human, to maintain contact with the people around us.
This afternoon the boys and I were getting ourselves organized after school; Henry had homework because, he told me, he had been distracted today and hadn’t finished his centers. After his snack, he got ready to do the homework, but first he wanted a piece of paper, “So I can write out my plan for the afternoon, you know, do homework, play, bath, computer time. Or maybe computer time and THEN homework? Or homework and then bath . . . “
“Why don’t we start with the homework and not worry about writing out a plan?” I asked him.
“But I NEED a plan!” he insisted.
I can see how he got distracted at school.
I convinced him to start the damn homework already and was helping him identify what holiday fell in what month and to underline the proper month on the worksheet when Charlie called from the bathroom. “I’ll be right there!” I said, not getting up from the table.
“Okay,” he answered, “but you might want to hurry because I had an accident.” We cleaned up the mess and tossed his underpants in the trash and washed our hands, and then I started a shower because that seemed like the best idea. And by now Henry was calling me because he was stuck on the homework again.
I left Charlie washing his hands (again, because you can never be TOO careful) and went to finish the homework and told Henry he could play on the computer for TWENTY MINUTES and not a SECOND MORE and went back to put Charlie in the shower and scrub him up. And when I put the nozzle down on the bottom of the tub, I sprayed myself from head to toe because I forgot to turn it away from me.
I got Charlie rinsed and started to fill the tub so he could soak and play, but now Henry was calling me again. He hadn’t waited long enough for the computer to finish it’s elaborate booting up process and had tried ten times to open IE and now the computer was locked up and all I could think to do was swear and shut it down and start over. And Charlie is calling from the tub and Henry is trying to grab the mouse out of my hand and I’m wondering if it’s too early for a stiff drink.
And then Henry put his arms around me and said, “Thank you for fixing the computer. I’m sorry I was impatient.” And Charlie starts yelling from the bathroom, “MAMA! COME BACK IN HERE! BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”
All these things, crashing around in my brain. Or maybe in my heart; it’s hard to tell sometimes.
Posted by Susan @ 3:32 pm • Uncategorized
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April 19th, 2007 at 4:53 pm, maybaby Says:
I work in Blacksburg and live a few minutes outside town. This whole week has been horrible and surreal beyond belief. Thank you for posting information about the We are all Hokies day tomorrow.
I can’t tell you how much of a comfort it is to see, through the blogosphere, the support and love flowing toward this tiny little part of the country.
Thank you.
April 19th, 2007 at 5:59 pm, Anonymous Says:
It’s amazing how they can pull The Cute out of their hats just as you’re about to flush them down the toilet.
April 19th, 2007 at 6:01 pm, Annika Says:
I want to give your boys a great big squishy hug.
April 19th, 2007 at 6:54 pm, MamaChristy Says:
You’re boys are the sweetest. I hope mine turns out as nice - I think he just might.
Congrats on the sold sign and at least you can just start packing now.
April 19th, 2007 at 7:26 pm, susie Says:
As long as they toss me a bone like that every now and then, I’ll be able to handle two boys. I’ll be able to handle two boys. I’ll be able to handle two boys. I’ll be able to handle two boys. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
April 19th, 2007 at 8:45 pm, daysgoby Says:
Oh they are sweet like their Mama!
And I agree with Anon up there - I get a lot of the Oh So Cute eyes…which disarms me right before I roar…
April 19th, 2007 at 9:37 pm, David Stefanini Says:
I love the blog that you have. I was wondering if you would link my blog to yours and in return I would do the same for your blog. If you want to, my site name is American Legends and the URL is:
www.americanlegends.info
If you want to do this just go to my blog and in one of the comments just write your blog name and the URL and I will add it to my site.
Thanks,
David
April 20th, 2007 at 3:11 pm, Karianna Says:
Best of luck for a peaceful weekend after all the chaos.
April 21st, 2007 at 6:02 am, Suburban Turmoil Says:
I am learning very quickly that two are soooo much harder than one.
Right now, my two teenagers seem incredibly easy!
April 22nd, 2007 at 8:37 pm, dorothy Says:
We are putting our house up for sale next week. I know exactly how you feel, and please let our house sale go quickly, too!
April 24th, 2007 at 9:47 am, Karyn Says:
I wonder if you would have luck with a mantra for Henry… I started using one with J… and it goes like this:
“Whatever happens - we will deal with it!”
Over. And over. AND OVER.
Staying human. It’s amazing any of us can , sometimes…