Making God laugh

So, not only did I tell him my plans today, I wrote a list.. He had fun with it.

Dropped the kids off at school, and met a friend to walk the dogs at 8.15am.

Took dogs on long hike, had a good natter, laughed about her hamster/cat veterinary emergencies; home by 10am feeling smug.

Came around the kitchen counter to discover Kiwi (small black bad tempered cat) missing half her lower jaw, covered in mud, dripping blood (on cream carpet).

Hyperventilated, called vet we had been talking about only minutes before, scooped up cat, sped to vet. Waited, hyperventilated some more.

Cat examined, probably hit by car (better than the chewing by coyotes which was my guess) kept in for xrays and further examination.

Came home to do accounts, pay bills etc, and generally try to fulfill aforementioned list.

Called vet, cat needs surgery, go to see cat and get estimate of damage (physical and financial). 1654 bucks.

Collect children, buy food for dinner (should be ramen noodles for the foreseeable future); bring kids home, start cooking tea.

Husband arrives home, tells kids about cat (I was keeping it quiet, as they wouldn't notice her absence for a couple of days and then it would look a lot better) then wants to know what the red patches on the carpet are..

Calm daughter down, by now kitchen is full of smoke from burning burgers, go to tell son to walk dogs and ask him about his day (good parent moment), husband helping daughter with homework (another good parent moment) oblivious to 2 dogs now heading out into the great blue yonder....

Dinner is now cooked, but all recipients are scouring the countryside for the name-tag-less dogs who had their new name tags ordered 48 hours ago and will probably arrive tomorrow, just in time to label their coffins...
Dogs finally return, looking very pleased with themselves, I start swigging from a large glass of wine, husband starts using foul language in reference to daughter's maths homework, and the kids won't eat their tea because it's cold...
You've got to laugh.

When a surfer decides not to take off on a wave and backstrokes with his/her arms to keep from being sucked over the falls.

And that, right there, is my life.

Not the cool surfing bit, in case you were momentarily impressed. No, the flailing arms and panicking bit.

Take, for instance, my recent relocation (courtesy of my husband's new job in yet another far-flung place). By now, after 5 moves, I am pretty aware that to make life go as smoothly as possible (and, indeed, to even have some sort of life worth mentioning), you have to hit the ground running, and meet and greet as many people as possible in a very speedy timeframe. Some you will wish you had never, ever encountered; some you will be happy to say hello to in the supermarket but will otherwise not seek out, and some will be keepers for life. To my enormous good fortune, I found two keepers almost immediately, who have taken it upon themselves to introduce me to many of their cherished friends.

And very lovely it is too, but I seem intent on making these new acquaintances wonder which planet I dropped in from. At the delightful swim party hosted by keeper no 1, I became rather too fond of the free-flowing sangria, and kissed every guest as they left. I also shared intimate details of my husband's foreskin status with 5th grade mothers that I would be seeing for the rest of my 9 year olds school life, and who would no doubt be meeting my unsuspecting spouse at various school functions - one hopes he has no urge to run for school board.

At keeper No 2's salad bar soiree, I was so nervous about meeting everyone that I proceeded to sweat profusely, and prove that J Crew 'Tissue T's" are no match for an overanxious woman with hyperactive sweat glands. The stains nearly reached my waist, and were compounded by an exploding faucet incident which only served to drench me further. Suffice to say, I made an impression, but have yet to receive any lunch invitations off the back of it..