Martha Stewart Doesn't Live Here

I pride myself in being real. My life is an open book. I'll tell you my weight; I'll tell you my financial ups and downs; and I'll tell you when I've screwed up. I've been writing one of my best friends from junior high and high school over the past year. We got back in touch after a slow falling out 10+ years ago. A few months ago, I referred her to this blog. I gave her the disclaimer that my life is not all butterflies and roses as my blog displays. Don't get me wrong, I have a really, really good life. But over the past 2 years, we've had some difficult struggles with an ex-boss terrorizing me and my business partner (Ex-boss ended up being convicted of a felony for it, and business was shut down.) We have some real difficult struggles with some extended family. However these struggles I've had the past 2 years just aren't my stories to tell, so I've continued telling stories that I can share -- and that is the butterflies and roses of my life.

But after a friend, who had moved a month prior to us, said to me, "I'm sure your house is all unpacked and in perfect order", I thought it was time to be real again. I'm here to tell you, it ain't always butterflies and roses. We have chaos. I've got three kids, and I work for my husband, work at my salon, and oh yeah, I'm also a stay at home mom. My 3 year old daughter is going on 16, and my 8 year old boys enjoy doing things that involve really, really loud volume, hitting, playing, and I swear if I have to put the couch cushions back in place one.more.time, I'm going to lose it. I have good kids, I really do. For the most part, they listen really, really well. But there are some days that I have to put myself in time out. Just the other day, my 3 year old was whining that she wanted her drink as the Sonic guy was trying to hand me my drink order and slowly, oh so slowly, gather the change he needed to give me. I would turn around and sternly say, "Allie, Just a minute." and then I'd turn back and smile at the Sonic guy while I waited for my change -- over and over again. She kept whining for her drink. Then I did something so out of character, I couldn't help but laugh. I continued smiling at the Sonic guy while I started blindly swatting behind me in hopes I'd make contact with some piece of 3 year old body. Then I drove off . . . only to hit a curb on the way out. At that point, I couldn't help but bust out laughing. My daughter joined in with the laughter . . . and then started asking for her drink again. Chaos.

So you can imagine the utter chaos that we lived in while we were renovating this house, trying to finish school, trying to move into this house and re-paint and prepare the old house to turn the keys back in, get ready for my daughter's birthday, AND pack for an 11 day vacation. We needed a vacation, oh so badly. But our life was so chaotic leading up to it. Normally I start packing several weeks in advance. Not this time. My house was a disaster. We were having a little birthday party for Alemitu. I still needed to pack. I had 4 hours of braiding to do on my daughter's hair. I had gotten about 2-3 hours of sleep the previous night, and we were leaving for vacation at 7 a.m. the next morning. In addition, I hadn't even looked at things to do in Chattanooga. I had NOTHING planned.

My house at about 2 am before leaving for vacation.

I ran around the house for hours trying to get things done. Finally, at 3 am I told Adam that I was going to take a "nap" before getting up at 5 a.m. This would make the total hours of sleep 4-5 in 48 hours. When I woke up, I realized that I hadn't even checked in for our flight . . . and we were flying the dreaded Southwest. But don't you worry Southwest, you didn't get me this time -- families with children under 5 can board after the A section. Yahoo! Score a win for the Fischer Family.

This is how Adam found Alemitu on vacation morning. I wasn't the only one overtired, I guess.

When I got myself dressed, I realized that I had packed all of my clothes and forgot to leave out an outfit for flying. Oh who cares, put on some exercise pants and a new pair of shoes. Sure, it should be fine not wearing socks with the new shoes. Dead. Wrong. These are the lovely socks I purchased when my feet started blistering at the airport.

 

We finally got on our plane. Alemitu was sitting between Adam and I, and she started talking and asking for her headphones and movie immediately. I took my pill for claustrophobia, then I turned on my selective hearing, closed my eyes a little tighter, laid my head against the window, and I don't even remember the plane taking off. Here comes vacation.

Even with the chaos, I am one blessed momma.