Posted by on May 8, 2011 in dishwasher disaster, holiday, holiday fiasco, mother's day | 6 comments

We all know by now that I don’t do “easy.” (Let’s pause to remember the time my kid and my cat puked everywhere. And then I dropped a 12-pack of beer.)

So I should have known I was in for trouble when my first Mother’s Day started out beautifully.
First of all, I got to sleep in. Until 9:15 a.m!!! That is about 2-3 hours longer than I have slept in in, oh, maybe a year.
Then, Mike carried Ryan into the bedroom to wake me up. Ryan was holding a card from Mike and the most beautiful finger-painted picture frame anyone has ever made. (What? He’s my kid, therefore his artwork is AMAZING.)
I got coffee and breakfast in bed.
I was told that I would be going to get a pedicure, which is my favorite way to relax.
We puttered around the house for a bit. Ryan went down for a nap and Mike ran to the grocery store. I was due for my pedicure as soon as Mike returned. I threw some laundry in, cleaned up the kitchen and ran the dishwasher. When Mike came home with several bags of food, I breezed into the kitchen to help him put things away.
I paused to think about how this day was exactly what I needed, after a very intense week at work and some medical issues with Ryan that had me stressed out beyond anything I’d ever experienced. But finally, I felt more relaxed than I had been in days, weeks, maybe even months.
As I contemplate this, Mike says, “Is the dishwasher making a funny noise?”

Hm. Yeah. It is.
He yanks open the dishwasher, turning it off.
But the gushing noise continues.
So he yanks open the cabinet under the sink, to reveal water spraying everywhere.
Aw, shucks!” he yells. (Cleaned up for a mixed audience.)
We curse, grab towels, and curse some more.
Then my downstairs neighbor clangs open our gate. “Uh, guys? My kitchen is flooded,” he calls through the front door.
SHUCKS!” Mike yells.
My pedicure officially cancelled, I call the plumber, who describes my situation as “not good.”
In case I’m not freaked out enough, my kid then wakes up from his nap and has gone, uh, Number 2 in his diaper. Only instead of being a regular Number 2, it is a maroon Number 2.
So now I’m on the phone with the on-call nurse, who is assuring me that it’s a completely common side effect with the antibiotic he’s on for his ear infection.
Cool.
The plumber arrives and fixes our broken hose. The downstairs neighbor seems completely unconcerned about the fact that his entire kitchen is flooded and that water is still leaking through his florescent light: “Don’t sweat it. It is what it is.
Mike begins making dinner, determined to salvage the evening. While our dinner cooks, he decides to feed Ryan some pureed chickpeas for the first time.
Ryan loves them.
And then Ryan pukes them up all over the high chair, which does little to nothing for my appetite.
BUT. Bright side? My kid learned how to do “the worm” today:
BUT again. The asthma medication? Makes him hyper. He has played with Every. Single. Toy. today and is showing no signs of winding down any time soon.
Happy Mother’s Day!