This past week has been a really long week. It was a Crier week, which means late nights, and just an overall busy week. I've been bitching about it more than is socially acceptable, so the universe thought that it would throw me a "fuck you" right back to me yesterday.
Jor's kiddos were off of school, so instead of 3 little kids, we were playing with the 3 littles and 3 "bigs" all together. It was kind of warm, so we went outside for a few hours in the morning before lunch. We were playing soccer and having fun (Adler and I were winning, just saying). I went inside to pre-heat the oven to make lunch, and came back outside. A few minutes later, I started corralling everyone inside to get everyone ready for lunch.
In the mayhem of getting six kids inside, I told the older ones to put away their boots. Their boots go in the dog's room. Yes...Jorie has two gigantic dogs, that are generally incredibly easy to deal with. So, while I had all of them inside, I ran back outside to grab a few toys that we forgot to put away, and get Genevive and Finn inside (the stragglers).
In the span of about 35 seconds, Gus came outside to ask for a snack, and somehow the two giant dogs got out of the house and sprinted their asses down the block.
I start literally throwing children into the house to chase the dogs down the block. I then chase the dogs two houses down, screaming their names. I have no way to grab them, or lure them back. So, I run back in the house and start yelling "where are the treats? Where are the treats?" All six children look at me...completely apathetic and slightly confused about my excitement...like "what are you talking about crazy lady?"
I tell Finn to watch the little ones, grab a box of lucky charms and sprint my pregnant; non-running ass down the block crying and praying that the dogs will come to me.
Now, thank God...they came with me, and everything was fine...but seriously HEART ATTACK!
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