Sunday, July 5, 2015

Blogging 2015: 553 down, 1462 to go

Disclaimer: I am super hammered. Like, college hammered. Pregame before the party hammered. Please forgive any random grammatical mistakes. Or don't. Fuck you, I'm hammered.

Yesterday was the 4th of July. Independence Day. It has always made me crazy when people get all "Happy 4th of July!" because that's just...a date. It'd be like saying "Happy 3rd of August!" or some shit.  Yay! Calendars! 

Fantastic husband had to work, so I was at home with the smalls. I did laundry, listened to know, the fucking minutia of the everyday. We went to the box so I could beat the shit out of myself (for real 1.5 mile run, 150 burpees, 1.5 mile run) and the kids could run around and be general jackasses. I finished up in a hair over 49 minutes. I brought at clementine to eat afterwards so I'd have enough sugar in my system to make it home. Three little vultures circled me. "We are so hungreeeeeee" said the vultures. "Pleeeeeease can we have a slice of orange?" So I gave it to them, because I am a great parent. 

I should be grateful that they didn't drink all my water while I was running. 

After the WOD (thanks for that, Amanda) we went through Starbucks and got lemonade, because I wanted a Passion Tea, and the smalls whine a lot when I don't get them something, too.  We came home and I made lunch, then insisted they sleep so that I could take a nap. Did I mention I did 150 burpees? Because I did.

I think they slept. Who cares. I slept.

After our nap, I took them to the splash pad in our neighborhood park. The screamed, they got soaked, C discussed his penis loudly for all the world to hear (we had a discussion about it. It went "Dude, stop discussing your genitalia. It weirds people out." "Okay, Mom"). We were there for about an hour and a half, then came home for supper and prep for fireworks.

I decided against going either downtown or to Fish Creek for fireworks. I used to work in TR so I decided to go there.  We got truly miraculous parking, then headed over to Neshotah park to kill time before the display. The kids ran around, we used the public pissers without problems, and we headed over to the field for the show.

I'd like to commend TR for it's Independence Day festivities. There was a band, a choir, two random old men singing patriotic songs, and fireballs. My boys dug the shit out of the fireballs. The concessions were cheap, and there were free cookies from Jerry's Bakery. My smalls were in small person heaven.

Glow wants for a dollar? Sign me up!

They were fabulously good sports. And when the fireworks started? They were the embodiment of wonder. Holy shit, it's dusty in here just thinking about it. C in particular was all wide eyes and WOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!!!!!! It was everything a fireworks outing should be. This being their first one, officially. They were well behaved, adorable, and the perfect little newbies. I felt lucky to have seen it.

After the show we shuffled out of the field and back to the car and we were on our way home. At 2245 I voice texted my husband that L had fallen asleep immediately and the boys had lasted until 2242.

At 2252 I was contemplating putting everyone to bed, letting the dog out, and falling into the sleep of the exhausted.

At 2256 I noticed a car on the shoulder (a was either silver or light blue) and thought it was odd, but people pull over all the time for flat tires and what have you.  

At 2256:05 I saw something in the right lane that I couldn't identify. It was metal, and black, and there was a roundish white protrusion on the side.  I tried to avoid it, jacking the car to the left and then to the right, but I hit it...

...and we went screaming into the ditch at 72mph.

...and we flipped over 1 and a half times.

...and we came to rest hung up on a barrier fence.

...and the man who lives in the house we almost careened into was calling to me "Are you okay? Can you open the door? How many people are in there?"

...and he pulled C and P out the rear passenger window, and he opened the back lift gate and L crawled out. Then I picked up my clutch, found my phone, and crawled over the front, middle, and rear rows, picked up L's glasses, and exited the car. I said to him (assuming he was in the minivan on the highway) "Thanks for staying" and he said "Staying? I live here. We were having a bonfire."

...and I hugged him, and realized the fucking assholes who dropped the grill fled the scene.

...and the GBPD and GBFD were came for us, expecting the worst.

...and we were all fine.

Thank-you, Mazda, for making a top quality machine.

I called 911 while still in the driver's seat, then I called fantastic husband at work. I said "Hey, I wrecked the car". He thought I just rear ended someone. 

I remember walking out of the brush.

I remember giving all our details to the officer in charge.

I remember hearing the tow truck arriving and an officer saying " you have like, a reeeeeeeaaaaallly long cable?"

I remember the paramedics giving my kids stuffed animals and making sure they were warm enough.

I remember seeing the car, upended, being pulled out of the brush.

I am so grateful that everyone is okay. People want to credit god, or some guardian angel, for protecting us. And truthfully, if that's what you need to do, that's fine. I'll thank the good people at Mazda for engineering a car that could withstand that kind of onslaught and leave 4 people whole and uninjured. 

Because if god, or zeus, or allah, or yahweh, or who-the-fuck-ever was really looking out for us? Why was there a goddamn gas grill in the road, and why did the bitch ass pansy fuckers who dropped it flee the scene?

Shit happens. And last night, shit happened to my family. And last night, the only thing we lost was an 8 year old car. My kids are fine. I am fine. All my personal effects were intact and recovered. I am insured to the eyeballs.

Thank Mazda.

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