So we had our annual yard sale this past weekend. And as always, there proved to be some interesting people and plenty of frustrations along side of making some extra dough and spending a day with my dear friend. I realized that as the weekend approached that I had made it a year since the drama or should I say trauma that following last years sell. So for those of you who I didn't know....here is the post from then:
Who Know That Nightmare Where You're Naked In Public?
As I sat nursing 8 week old Wyatt that rare but all too memorable gurgle hit my stomach. That bubbling from something being not quite right in my gut. About five minutes later I hurry to the bathroom. I felt better...for the moment. However about every 20 minutes thereafter, it was getting more sever.I sat there on my porcelain throne, trembling and worried. The trash can dumped out on the floor so I would have a bucket to vomit in. Debating whether to call someone to come over for help and to watch the kids while they were running in to tell me "Brian changed the channel on the TV." and me saying "I don't care". Them running in to ask "Are you done yet? We have to go potty", me saying "I DON'T care". Them running in to tell me, "Brian dumped out the bottle of glue on the chair in the office" Me yelling, "I DON'T CARE!"
I called Makensie in and asked her to call daddy and tell him that I was sick. It was around 8:30 pm and Allen was still about 30 minutes away. I also asked her for a wet washcloth as I felt as if I was going to pass out. I told her that if I did pass out, NOT to call 911 just to go over to the neighbors house and ask our wonderful elderly neighbor Virginia to come and sit with the baby until daddy got home. After all, the last thing I want on my record of humiliating experiences is for me to be passed out on the floor with my panties around my ankles.Then the door bell rang. Since it is so late, I really thought it had to be someone we knew. The kids all start yelling, "Go to the back door!" Our front door hasn't opened from the inside for about a year now, it's on the honeydo list. Then I hear the stampede to the kitchen. How is it possible that 3 kids that weigh less than 40lbs each sound as if a fleet of octopus wearing work boots rose up and were trampling through the house? I hear the back door open and knew it had to be a close friend that must have just forgotten not to use the front door, because the rule is to never open the door to a stranger.
At this point I am not mustering up the energy to be able to get myself off the pot. I was thinking to myself, "Thank you Lord, please let them be able to stay with the baby just until Allen gets home."Then I hear the stampede heading my direction. Makensie and Gabby come in and shout, "mom, it's one of your friends." I ask of course, "Which one?" And this is where the slow motion camera comes in... Makensie gestures to the bathroom door as she says, "Thiiiiiissssss oooonnnne." And now joining me in the bathroom is a complete stranger. I sat looking up at her, my mouth wide open, sounds in my head I didn't know existed. Well, she wasn't a complete stranger, I had met her at my yard sale on Saturday. Gabby helped explain the awkward situation by letting her know, "momma's sick. She has diarrhea." As she wrinkled up her nose and fanned the air.
Ya think? She had to have guessed that when she walked into our bedroom!
I don't think the gal quite realized what was going on or else wasn't all there as she stood there and went ahead to tell me that she had stopped by to see if I had a playpen to get rid of. At this point my head is whirling, partly from the embarrassment and partly from shock that I had to then ask her if I could finish going to the bathroom, then we could talk and partly from complete lack of understanding of what in the world my children were thinking! I wanted to scream "IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING?! AM I THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN SEE I'M ON THE TOILET?!"
I didnt even want to leave the bathroom. I splash my face with cold water, lean over the sink and glance into the mirror and tell myself "This is it. This is THE most embarrassing moment of my life." I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
I step foot into Wyatt's room to see Makensie folding up my pack and play and I tell her and the gal that I'm not giving my pack and play away that I still use it, "that's why it is set up - Makensie" Makensie then goes and gets Wyatt out of the swing and brings him in and hands him to this lady, who by this time I'm 100% sure is not all there. She hands him immediately back to me. Then says, "I don't like to hold them when they're that small, I just dropped my cousin's son today and he started shaking and all." She even had a kid. She had him at the yard sale with her. At this point my tummy is sounding off again. I still felt as if I needed to be polite as I ushered her out apologizing for the quick visit, that I was just sick.
I can't say I am angry at the kids, but I will probably need to seek counseling for my traumatic shock.
------
So one year later...I have survived. Just about 2 weeks after this happened, Allen was outside fillet his catch from a trip and calls in and says, "hey, a young girl has walked by with a baby a couple of times and I want to bless them with some of that fish, will you bag it up and when she comes back around I'll have her come in for it." And guess who it was? Her name is Katrina and she is very young, I've made peace with it and have made friends with her ...well...as friendly as one can be with a someone of such a ....different..... life. We see her almost weekly walking or at the library and such. It is defineately something I will never forget or let my kids live down. I make sure to remind them each time we see her. "Hey Gabby, look there's Katrina...remember her? She's the one you brought into the bathroom with me."
Who Know That Nightmare Where You're Naked In Public?
As I sat nursing 8 week old Wyatt that rare but all too memorable gurgle hit my stomach. That bubbling from something being not quite right in my gut. About five minutes later I hurry to the bathroom. I felt better...for the moment. However about every 20 minutes thereafter, it was getting more sever.I sat there on my porcelain throne, trembling and worried. The trash can dumped out on the floor so I would have a bucket to vomit in. Debating whether to call someone to come over for help and to watch the kids while they were running in to tell me "Brian changed the channel on the TV." and me saying "I don't care". Them running in to ask "Are you done yet? We have to go potty", me saying "I DON'T care". Them running in to tell me, "Brian dumped out the bottle of glue on the chair in the office" Me yelling, "I DON'T CARE!"
I called Makensie in and asked her to call daddy and tell him that I was sick. It was around 8:30 pm and Allen was still about 30 minutes away. I also asked her for a wet washcloth as I felt as if I was going to pass out. I told her that if I did pass out, NOT to call 911 just to go over to the neighbors house and ask our wonderful elderly neighbor Virginia to come and sit with the baby until daddy got home. After all, the last thing I want on my record of humiliating experiences is for me to be passed out on the floor with my panties around my ankles.Then the door bell rang. Since it is so late, I really thought it had to be someone we knew. The kids all start yelling, "Go to the back door!" Our front door hasn't opened from the inside for about a year now, it's on the honeydo list. Then I hear the stampede to the kitchen. How is it possible that 3 kids that weigh less than 40lbs each sound as if a fleet of octopus wearing work boots rose up and were trampling through the house? I hear the back door open and knew it had to be a close friend that must have just forgotten not to use the front door, because the rule is to never open the door to a stranger.
At this point I am not mustering up the energy to be able to get myself off the pot. I was thinking to myself, "Thank you Lord, please let them be able to stay with the baby just until Allen gets home."Then I hear the stampede heading my direction. Makensie and Gabby come in and shout, "mom, it's one of your friends." I ask of course, "Which one?" And this is where the slow motion camera comes in... Makensie gestures to the bathroom door as she says, "Thiiiiiissssss oooonnnne." And now joining me in the bathroom is a complete stranger. I sat looking up at her, my mouth wide open, sounds in my head I didn't know existed. Well, she wasn't a complete stranger, I had met her at my yard sale on Saturday. Gabby helped explain the awkward situation by letting her know, "momma's sick. She has diarrhea." As she wrinkled up her nose and fanned the air.
Ya think? She had to have guessed that when she walked into our bedroom!
I don't think the gal quite realized what was going on or else wasn't all there as she stood there and went ahead to tell me that she had stopped by to see if I had a playpen to get rid of. At this point my head is whirling, partly from the embarrassment and partly from shock that I had to then ask her if I could finish going to the bathroom, then we could talk and partly from complete lack of understanding of what in the world my children were thinking! I wanted to scream "IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING?! AM I THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN SEE I'M ON THE TOILET?!"
I didnt even want to leave the bathroom. I splash my face with cold water, lean over the sink and glance into the mirror and tell myself "This is it. This is THE most embarrassing moment of my life." I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
I step foot into Wyatt's room to see Makensie folding up my pack and play and I tell her and the gal that I'm not giving my pack and play away that I still use it, "that's why it is set up - Makensie" Makensie then goes and gets Wyatt out of the swing and brings him in and hands him to this lady, who by this time I'm 100% sure is not all there. She hands him immediately back to me. Then says, "I don't like to hold them when they're that small, I just dropped my cousin's son today and he started shaking and all." She even had a kid. She had him at the yard sale with her. At this point my tummy is sounding off again. I still felt as if I needed to be polite as I ushered her out apologizing for the quick visit, that I was just sick.
I can't say I am angry at the kids, but I will probably need to seek counseling for my traumatic shock.
------
So one year later...I have survived. Just about 2 weeks after this happened, Allen was outside fillet his catch from a trip and calls in and says, "hey, a young girl has walked by with a baby a couple of times and I want to bless them with some of that fish, will you bag it up and when she comes back around I'll have her come in for it." And guess who it was? Her name is Katrina and she is very young, I've made peace with it and have made friends with her ...well...as friendly as one can be with a someone of such a ....different..... life. We see her almost weekly walking or at the library and such. It is defineately something I will never forget or let my kids live down. I make sure to remind them each time we see her. "Hey Gabby, look there's Katrina...remember her? She's the one you brought into the bathroom with me."
Comments
Your Sudsol friend! Juli