Well I have had quite the week! Who am I? Well one thing I know about myself is that I HATE BUGS! I am truly scared of them, not all of them, mainly cockroaches and crickets. I don't even like writing the words, and who named them anyway?
We have been having a cricket problem at my house, the garage is where they take cover, this is why I have not finished unpacking. I swear they are breading in my boxes. The kids know the drill, I will swing my bag in front of the sensor to turn the light on and give the invaders a second to scatter, then I try to make one of them go first which usually backfires. So we run to the car, well really it's hoping while I am letting out little screams and we jump in the car. If they stall for any reason there will be yelling, they should just be prepared for this if that's what they choose. The apology will follow once the doors are shut. And yes if you are wondering cricket is one of the words in Hazels small vocabulary.
Now, on to the traumatizing events of the week. We have had some break in's recently in the cricket neighborhood and I freak out for a minute and then gather myself then run and get the bug zapper that some genius invented. I listen to it pop and fry, I can't bear to watch, then beg one of the kids to throw it away, which usually backfires. These crickets are stalking me and show up at the least expected times. I can't even sleep well because I think I can hear one hoping across the floor. HaHa laugh it up, you think this is funny!
One morning I wake up everything is normal, we eat breakfast, I go to brush my teeth and uncontrollably end up running away screaming waving my arms in the air. Hazel bolts after me because of course with four children you simply can't brush your teeth alone, you might miss a spot. It took me a long time and a lot of chest pains and heart palpitations later to accept that there was a dead roach in my sink and I was going to have to remove it myself. It ended up being flushed just in case it was playing dead followed by gagging for the next 4 hours and I didn't pee for the rest of the day.
July 4th, 9pm in sister's driveway piling everyone in the car to go watch fireworks, yay fun right. Right until I realize I'm being yelled at to get in the car before the roach does. After realizing I had two choices, I could either run for it and hope it doesn't attack or take the chance that it gets in the car. I would be walking for the rest of my life, so I ran, yes, screaming. It was HUGE and on my windshield an underside view, not looking good for me. My lovely sister is trying to coach me through it, just turn on the windshield wipers she says. But I couldn't what if it smeared it across. After quite a ruckus and with my eyes shut I was able to do it. And although I tried I just couldn't believe her when she said it flew off. The rest of the night I was in a daze, you know, post traumatic stress. I asked how she was not freaking out and she said well, when one person is panicking the other one has to stay calm and I obviously wasn't the calm one. I couldn't even pull in the drive way to drop them off, just made them jump out at a low speed drive by. smile. I wouldn't do that! But I did make them get out on the street. And Hailey snapped her flag in half running from the same roach to the car.
And now for the not funny in any way cricket attack! Just a normal day, spraying off the pool deck so we don't blister our feet getting ready to swim. I felt something and trying to stay calm this time asked my other lovely sister if there is something on me. She looked and said no, but then I knew I felt something and look over my shoulder and there is a cricket devil on my back! I admit it, I lost it I flung it off then ripped my hat off and started to scream and do a pretty dance. I just kept screaming "it was on my back, it was on me" As I scream that it is not funny while my sister is laughing a very nervous scared laugh, worried I've finally cracked, says "i know it's not i don't know why i'm laughing". As I look down they are everywhere. I try to spray them off and finally drop the hose and jump in the pool as I am being mocked by a bunch of little kids running around screaming yelling CRICKETS! I thought I was safe in the pool they can't swim right? I look up and there is one on my nephews back who is leaning over the side, so I yell of course trying to save him. He just goes under, but the cricket devil floats and doesn't die and he's coming for me. Lucky for skimmers with long handles. I am clearly not ok and have a hard time enjoying my swim. My sister says it was jimminy cricket must have been my conscience. Funny!
Yes, I realize I have a problem a disorder even and my children will be scarred for life. But I am still traumatized! I wonder if they make a medication for that? And just so you know, I will not get a wink of sleep tonight after revisiting these painful memories. But sharing helps you work through your issues right?
