Day 1136: Run it Up the Flagpole

I think, maybe, to cope with this job, I ought to write more often. And read more often. And crochet more often. When things get really bad, I just want to curl up in a corner and read till I cry, or sprawl in a comfy chair and binge on Netflix or Hulu and crochet till I can't feel my hands anymore. Given the recent structural disasters in my house, that may not be an option, but I think I can swing it all the same. In the meantime, I am running complaints up the flagpole, hoisting a pirate flag on said flagpole, and soldiering on.

Last week was...well. I went to a fancy charter school for constitution day, which was an eye-opener. Cody has a theory that most charter schools in this county are for rich, ultra-conservative parents. He might be right. This charter school was plastered in American flags, pictures of George Washington, and inspirational quotes from our founding fathers. The fifth grade class I was visiting was just getting done with Latin lessons.

I didn't have the heart to tell the teacher that Christopher Columbus, whose picture hung in her classroom, had once trafficked in child sex slaves. The kids weren't super interested in the constitution itself, but once I told them what I do for a living, that I represent children, things got interesting. First, they went on this strange spree of confessing all their toddlerhood crimes to me. And then they went on a strange spree, asking about all the ways a kid can end up in detention. Near the end they'd all warmed up enough that they were eager to ask questions. Bright, cute kids in the end. Girls outnumbered the boys. It was a little strange.

I spent most of last week being pretty darn sick, crocheting, and otherwise being miserable. Court was long and difficult. I remember hearings getting contentious and long and...urgh. Didn't get out of court till after 5 on Thursday because things were crazy. Had some difficult hearings as far as parents being super mentally ill and difficult to wrangle in a former setting. Also, one parent found out where I live, so I've been twitchy ever since.

Last Monday was Cody's birthday, but he didn't back from the lab till 8, so we went out for ice cream and then went to bed. We did go out to lunch the next day and discovered a nice new Mexican restaurant which we will definitely go to again. Also, a couple of my coworkers had birthdays, so we had lunchtime celebrations for those, though those were dampened by a migraine.

Saturday was pleasant. We hung out with my mother, sister, brother-in-law, niece, and a few of my sister and niece's friends for my niece's 3rd birthday party. We played toddler party games (they were more interested in balloons than structured games) and then went back to my sister's house. We hung out with my mom for a bit, getting shakes and lounging around the bookstore. After we dropped my mom off, Cody said he feels like he's getting along with her better (and not just because she gets us food), so I am glad.

We went to my friend Del's house for dinner and games. I played with her new baby boy, as did Cody (and Cody and baby boy were super adorable). We had tasty food (and a mishap over the food with Cody's colorblindness) and roasted smores, and then we played cards against humanity, which was awesome and fun.

Sunday was kind of an urgh day. I slept and napped a lot and was super stressed out. Cody was super sweet and helped with dishes and laundry. While we were sorting out the vacuum because it didn't "sound right", we discovered mold. Cody ended up ripping out a whole bunch of the wall and carpeting and setting fans to try to dry stuff. For a while there he thought the room smelled musty, but given my poor sense of smell I didn't think much of it. I also thought his office smelled musty, but he figured it was because of the dogs. Nope. Mould. Turns out there was mold in the guest room and it had seeped through the wall into Cody's office.

So we spent a good chunk of Sunday hauling books, rearranging furniture, and buying supplies from the hardware store. I survived court yesterday, and when I got home, I checked on the damp room, only to discover it smelled awful. I assumed the toxic mold was worse. Wrong. As it turned out, Dingo had eaten some of the nasty damp carpet pad (which we'd soaked with diluted bleach to kill any mold) and had a diarrhea accident. All over the carpet. So I put dinner in the oven and scrubbed. Then Cody came home. We ate. I scrubbed some more. Cody climbed on the roof and cleaned gutters and trimmed trees. Then we went inside and tore out drywall.

I'm a little horrified at how easy it is to break drywall. I am more horrified at how lame I am at punching holes in the walls compared to my husband (pretty sure most construction workers don't inhale, take a proper stance, and then punch like he does). We wore jumpsuits and respirators and goggles and the respirators made me a little claustrophobic. Cody mentioned he'd missed doing construction. In a fit of exhaustion and first-world arrogance, I thought to myself, "I went to law school so I wouldn't have to do this." Well, I don't have to do it for the rest of my life. But it is cheaper to do it ourselves.

So tonight I will haul books and clear out our offices and see about helping Cody tear out more walls. Mostly I want to curl up in the corner and hide and read all the awesome books waiting for me on my Kindle.