Summer Camp From Hell

Our five year-old has been looking forward to summr camp for almost two months now.  We searched for a great place...decided to go with the YMCA near my office.  It's a hell of a commute for both of us but my colleagues raved about it.  The price tag was also pretty cha-ching as well.  We would love to keep him home over the summer and do fun stuff however,  due to our never having found a CRAZY OLD BAT exterminator,  too much exposure to the poor old loon would be too much.  So...today was the first and last day at the YMCA. Here is the email I just sent to the camp director...

"Dear Camp Director,

Our son started summer camp today in the five year old group.  When I dropped him off, I was shown where his room was.  I introduced him to the councelor in the room, and then asked what we should do.  We were instructed to hang up his backpack...that's it.  I hung out for a moment and helped him make an introduction to one of his camp-mates and then left him in the camp's care. 

Before I got to my car I was a bit taken aback when I saw my child on the packed playground of children of all ages...looking lost and being pushed aside by much larger children as he tried to climb up the slide.  I stayed for a few moments to observe and thouht that there were way too many children in this space and that the age range was a bit overwhelming (all of the older children swinging and sliding while the younger children stood and watched.) Hoping that my boy and his new friend could find some space to play, I left for work. 

When I arrived to pick him up, the moment he reached me he burst into tears.  He was trying to tell me that he got a red on his swim test.  Knowing that he is in no way a perfectionist,  I was confused as to why he would be upset.   On the long drive home, we talked it out and here is what I believe is the problem...lack of direction.  The poor guy did not know the that the swim test was just that....a test.  He thought that was how swim lessons went (you tell him to get in the pool, make him see if he can tred water, he goes under and then gets taken out of the pool to sit on the side and cry.) He was dreading afternoon swim and cried until he heard the news that it was cancelled.   Additionally, he asked me if he could use his sneakers to get to the pool because he didn't like walking barefeet.  When I asked him why he didn't use his flip flops, he said he couldn't find them.  They were on the bottom of his bag.  No one helped him find them...maybe he didn't ask for help however, a little help from a counselor noticing that he had bare feet would have made a huge difference.

At lunch he ate all his food including his snacks.  So, here too I believe that little if any direction had being given.   No one told him to set his snacks aside because there would be an afternoon snack time.

This child had a very tough day.  He is a smart kid and follows directions well.  I feel like the drop off and pick up were a completly overwhelming experience for him coupled with a sense of being lost throughout.  

Tomorrow, I will be calling on you to speak about this further.  I will walk up to you and introduce myself (this morning you seemed to think my boy was a returning camper so it is safe to say that you don't really know who I am although you are the one who gave us the tour, assured us that the children are well taken care of and then took our money.) "

Feeling extra frazzled today...like I left my poor little five year-old out in the whild to fend for himself. 

Crazy Old Bat Exterminator?

My Mother-in-law has moved in and we now need to exterminate a Crazy Old Bat...does anyone know how I can get in-touch with a bunny by the name of Bugs? 

I have always known that my mother-in-law is crazy but I didn't know she was THIS crazy!  Oh Lord!  

Disclaimer: I love this crazy old lady and therefore reserve the right to rant here on this blog instead to my poor crazy old bat mother-in-law.  The posts here may piss someone off in cyber space but it saves me from upsetting the women who has come to our family for safety and love.  

Approximately six weeks ago, on a rainy and cold evening, my family and I were sitting around playing a game of Uno when my mother-in-law called.  Alarmed that our cyber-granny (who always texts and only calls in an emergency) was ringing my husband's cell, we knew what was to come next was not going to be good.  Expecting a call about plumbing gone awry or some sort of household emergency, we were shocked to hear a frantic old bat on the other end.  "I tripped over the dog and my leg snapped in half!" What was to come after this was a whirlwind of quick and emotional decisions that left my family in chaos.  Here is the exhausting list of events that followed that phone call:

• A mad dash to my mother next door (you know, the one fighting cancer) for an emergency babysitting session. 
• A few calls to 911 (since the crazy old bat called us and not 911)
• She wanted to wait until we got there first so we could put the dog away --- WE LIVE OVER AN HOUR AWAY! --- I later found out that she was afraid that her dog would be shot by the police if she (the dog) acted aggressively towards any of the rescue personnel   
• A 90+ mile an hour race to her house in the rain, through construction and traffic which left me with white knuckles and my heart in my throat 
• A frantic run up her 14  front steps to find her dog safely away and her house empty (EMTs got to her before we could ---because WE LIVE OVER AN HOUR AWAY!)
• A dash to the ER (thankfully, only a few blocks away)
• A search to find her in a very large city hospital
• A long sit-with in an ER cubical filled with arguments back and forth between my husband and my mother-in-law about how she has not been able to care for herself, her large three story house nor her large dog. 
• The news that she had snapped her femur completely in half and shattered her knee and that she is in for a surgery and a long road to recovery. 

Lots of stressful questions came after this discovery:

• Who will take care of my dog?
• Our son is highly allergic
• Where will I go to recover when the hospital and rehab let me go?
• How will I go back to my house?

Lots of heartbreaking confessions came next (most-likely due to the mega painkillers you would imagine one would be administered from snapping your largest bone in half):

• Her inability to care for her dog (who had been doing her business in the downstairs family room for months)
• Her inability to keep up with her home (dust inches thick, filthy upstairs bathrooms, rugs matted with dog fur)
• Her inability to navigate her three story row home, complete with over thirty steps between the street and her bedroom
• Her shopping addiction with television shopping networks leaving her with little or no food to eat
• Her fear of being alone, living alone and dying alone

From all of this, a lot of stressful decisions were made:

• My husband would have to put her house on the market, after lots of work of course! 
• The dog needed a new home, took a week but we found her a great new home.
• Heartbreak for the old bat but heaven for the dog who now goes on regular walks and gets plenty of attention.
• The old bat was going to have to come to live with us in our 900 square feet abode until her house sells and we can find her safe, one floor living.  Not to mention the fact that she needs to be cared for while she cant walk.  

Tough spot all around, for every party involved including our son who lost his room and is bunking with his parents...lame!

Now, there is light at the end of this cauldron filled  tunnel.  Her old bat headquarters of a house will eventually sell and then she will eventually move to another location.  EVENTUALLY.  In the meantime, there is a crazy old bat in my house and I need an exterminator.  She talks to herself constantly.  At night, so that she doesn't wake us, she whispers to herself...loudly.  As soon as I start to fall asleep, the ominous whispering starts. Eventually she does fall asleep, then I fall asleep.  Alas, soon after (usually around 2 or 3 AM) my cell phone rings.  Can you guess who it is? Yep!  It's the crazy old bat.  Sometimes she calls to ask me to take her to the bathroom.  The bathroom calls do not upset me.  When you gotta go, you gotta go.  I get that.   What does get me is when she calls me to ask me if I have noticed lately if my dishes aren't as clean as they should be or to inquire if I am OK because she thought she heard a noise.  

She also likes to interact inappropriately with my son, letting him know that his daddy's daddy didn't love him or that she had been married four times to two beaters and two cheaters....she tells this to a FIVE YEAR OLD!  Who says this to anyone? If you guessed, crazy old bat, you guessed right. 

All of this comes with the perks of being the only other lady in the house which means...you guessed it...I get  to bathe her.  Ah the bliss of scrubbing down a crazy old bat while her hair pins are swirling around my bathroom (another Bugs reference).  My bathroom, my very tiny bathroom which is now outfitted with a shower seat, potty chair, packs and packs of disposable underwear (which she insists on keeping next to the toilet, not one pack but ALL OF THEM).   I will hold back all of the really nasty parts of all of this since I am not ranting to humiliate her.  She had a lot of health issues prior to the leg break.  Her health was, to say the least, atrocious.  Her inability to walk just rockets us past atrocious and to a vocabulary word that I do not have access to due to my lack of Doctorate level education.  

I know I need to be patient and let this thing play out but, if I could just employ the services of a smart little bucked toothed bunny who can " La dah dah dee la dah dah dah dah Abracadabra"  her out of her, I would be eternally grateful.