Jungletwins

This week, Junglefamily killed a dog in an ironic accident, applied for 5 passports, testified before a grand jury, had a record 2 date nights in one week, celebrated an anniversary, lost a platinum wedding band, had two early intervention evaluations, got another serious eye injury, crawled around on the filthy floor of a downtown movie theatre, and saved a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest.

Where do I even start? I guess with the dog. I should probably feel worse about the dog incident than I do. I have these neighbors who have about 6 little yippy dogs, but not one single leash. The dogs run willy nilly about the road, the park, my yard–barking and snarling. The Humane Society has been called multiple times, to no avail. These little rats used to terrorize my girls, and actually killed my cat on our lawn before we came up with the brilliant idea of throwing rocks at them. Luckily over time, my aim has improved, and they no longer come near.  Except on the road. Every once in a while, one gets run over, and this time, it was us. Technically, Jungledad at the wheel, and an accident, I swear. Hate is one thing, murder another. I call it an ironic accident because we are about the only people on that road who slow way the hell down and try hard NOT to hit the dogs. That dog must have really wanted to die. Darwin at work.

Then there was the grand jury, which happened on the same day as the dog incident. Awful, but at least it’s over, and the dude was indicted based on my testimony, and that of the cop investigating.

The passports. Wow. That was an ORDEAL. So many forms, documents, photographs, fees, having to apply in person, etc. Mine was the easiest, I just had to renew. For the girls, we applied for 2 American passports, and 2 British. Why? Well, the laws are very favorable at the moment–a person can have dual citizenship USA/UK without enormous drama. But immigration laws change–frequently. Gotta strike while the iron’s hot; greencards and visas are a tremendous pain in the ass to attain, and we never know where we might end up living. I don’t want the girls to have to jump through a thousand hoops (like their father and I did) should they want to live in England or Europe, or go to college there like we did.

Then the opportunity for 2 date nights arose–awesome. The first night was faboosh, lots of beer and fish and chips and then a movie. Then suddenly, during the movie, I heard–clash clash cladder cladder on the floor of the theatre, and saw Jungledad fall to his knees and start feeling around. I thought he’d dropped a quarter, he’d dropped his platinum wedding band. We couldn’t find it in the dark. When the lights came on we crawled all around that nasty floor, searching everywhere. No dice. I felt a full on panic attack coming on. Then, a cinema employee held it up triumphantly. I owe her my life and my sanity.

The next day was our 4th anniversary. It would have gone quite differently had that ring not been found.

But it was, and the anniversary dinner was wonderful, and afterward we walked through the Japanese gardens by the ocean and sat down in the red pagoda I used to sit in during my first trimester, to watch the puffer fish swim in from the ocean, and think about what my babies would be like.

The weekend has been a frenzy of shopping and packing–Jungledad flies out tomorrow, for 14 days. It’s going to be rough. Today he was supposed to mow the lawn, tidy the house, watch the girls, and about 10,000 other things he promised, so I could relax, work on my book, and brace myself for 2 weeks of hell. Mumu had other plans. She poked him in the eye with all her might, so he’s writhing in agony right now (and the poke was hours ago). I thought we’d cured Mumu of this awful habit with time-outs and the frequent reading of the riot act, but I guess she’s slipped. They’re sleeping now, but when they wake, I’m stuck doing everything, again, and kind of bitter about it. Not that I’d rather be the one with the scratched eye. Who knows what shape he’ll be in when I drop him off at the airport tomorrow morning. Should be interesting.

Oh yeah, and early intervention came, somewhere in the melee. I wanted to address speech delays with Lulu. They agree, and will start services when Jungledad returns.

And now, I feel like I could sleep for 20 years. At least. After our failed attempt at potty training, I thought we wouldn’t see another week so crazy in some time. Boy was I wrong!

UPDATE: Just realized I forgot to explain the baby bird. My husband found it on our lawn (no idea how he spotted it, it’s so small) and returned it to its nest, using a ladder. I think that evens the score with the universe, after killing the dog. I mean, look at this thing:

I hope the little fella makes it.

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