I have renamed Tuesday nights “Fright Night.” Not that it scares me or that we watch horror flicks that evening, but because, since the advent of the 2010-2011 school year, that is my family’s busiest night of the week. I could just as easily have nicknamed it “Pasta Night,” since that is usually what we cook for dinner those days, but we don’t always have pasta – sometimes it’s Papa John’s pizza, or maybe I throw something in the crock pot that morning, so “Pasta Night” doesn’t cover that – but also “Pasta Night” sounds boring. It doesn’t even rhyme.
I digress. A typical Hyatt Family Tuesday looks like this:
- Take Nicholas to school, as always.
- Pick Nicholas up, as always.
- Feed the kids a [nutritious!] snack while Nicholas does his homework and I try – really try – to pick the house up from whatever mess my one year old has made before my mother in law comes over.
- Nicholas eats his snack as he does his homework (God bless him – he’s a good little multi-tasker), then he changes into his gymnastics clothes.
- Drive half an hour to gymnastics class – sit and read and breathe for an hour and a half.
- Drive half an hour home; call husband en route to let him know it is time to boil the water and preheat the oven. He doesn’t cook a whole lot outside of the charcoal grill (he is amazingly talented at this skill, by the way), but pasta and garlic bread - he can handle :)
- This item on the list mainly applied to the first half of the school year – Cub Scout meetings at 6:00 or 6:30, which is the time frame we arrive home from gymnastics. This addition to the schedule truly did make Tuesdays “Fright Night.” It made for an extremely long and stressful day for all of us. But those meetings are more sporadic now, thank goodness.
- Bathe the boys – they brush teeth and put on PJs – we read stories to each one – we tuck them into bed.
- Mark and I say something like, “Hello – how was YOUR day?” Then we pass out.
I am a laid back person by nature. I try to not fret too much over things – with a seven year old and a one year old, I have to pick my battles and let some things go. I’ve gotten pretty good at it. My husband on the other hand…
…well, HE called ME on the way home from gymnastics on Tuesday, April 26. He said something like, “You know that pine tree closest to the driveway that has sort of split into two trees sharing one trunk? I was walking Mom out to her car, and I happened to look up and noticed a crack going all the way from where the trunk splits down to the roots, and when the tiniest breeze blows, the side closest to the house SWAYS toward the house . I have called a guy that cuts down trees and does emergency service and he will be here in fifteen minutes and it’s going to cost $350.”
?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
I asked Mark if he was crazy. He said I could be the judge when I got home. But I was thinking to myself, “He’s just overreacting…it can’t be that bad…” And Mark said, “We have to get this cut down now – there are storms coming tomorrow!”
In less than 24 hours, I would know how right he was…
I arrive home. I look at the twin pine tree(s). I see the crack Mark told me about. It indeed started at the base where the two secondary trunks split and went all the way down. And then it happened: The breeze was extremely light that evening, seemingly with no more strength than someone breathing – yet the left twin of this five story high pine tree would separate itself from its brother with the slightest movement of air.
It swayed toward our house.
In the direction of my sons’ bedrooms.
If it fell – and that event was inevitable – it would land on one or both of my sons in their sleep. I wondered how long we had precariously lived like this.
And I said, “WE HAVE TO GET THIS CUT DOWN NOW – THERE ARE STORMS COMING TOMORROW!” Mark never acts like he loves it when I admit that he’s right because he’s a good person. Bless him.
For a one year old and a seven year old (OK – AND a 37 and 38 year old), watching a tree getting cut down is FUN. With our house on the left side of the tree, and our neighbor’s fence on the right, they had to bring out their sky bucket truck contraption and cut it from the top – down. The only sounds for the next hour were:
BUZZZZZZZZZ…CRASH! WOW!
BUZZZZZZZZZ…CRASH! ((Gleeful laughter))
BUZZZZZZZZZ…CRASH! COOL!
It was comforting seeing a fifty foot tall potential threat to our home and all that dwell therein come down in a controlled, skillful manner. $350 well spent.
Dinner – check. Boys bathed – check. Teeth brushed, PJs on, stories read, kids tucked in – check, check, check, check. Mark and I acknowledge each other’s existence and pass out – check, check.
We all rested peacefully that night, and as Martha Stewart says, that’s a Good Thing, for tomorrow would be here soon enough.
