After a week and day of eating like animals I finally uncovered the silverware.

A little background: I was the person who fixed everything growing up. Someone ripped the head off a Barbie, I fixed it. Someone tore a wheel off of a car, I fixed it. Going off to college and getting my first place was no biggie. I hooked up my TV / surround sound, moved furniture. I even had my own set of tools. I was totally self-sufficient. Six months after graduating from college, I got married and quickly forgot how to be amazing. The toilet is making sounds? HOOONEEEEEY! The cable guy wants to know where to drill and what kind of something-or-0ther we need. Huh? SWEEEEEETIE! The doctor says we’re not done yet; something about a placenta. What?!

Now skip ahead nine years, three children and one pending divorce.

Moving day wasn’t so bad. I broke my foot, but the lamps were spared.
Until the helpful movers said they couldn’t re-install the washer and dryer for me. Something about flood liability. Panic. Thankfully my new landlord popped by and set them up. The first morning waking up in the new place was peaceful and harmonious. Until I took a barely-warm shower. For someone who likes super hot water, this was no good. Thankfully I remembered back to the days of me when I knew how to do things like that, went out to the hot water heater, and turned up the temperature to one stop short of “hell.”  YAAY! Go me!

Not so fast.

Remember the washer and dryer so expertly hooked-up? They were fantastic — until I tried to use them. I thought it was a little odd that the “hot” I’d put the towels on was more cold than anything. Hum, maybe the water just needs to warm up. My washing machine has been relegated to the garage, after all. I sat down for a nice break after three days of packing and unpacking. 20 minutes into the wash cycle, I hear a tidal wave hitting the concrete garage floor. The same garage where most of our belongings have been temporarily stored until we can completely unpack. SHIIIIIIIIIT! I flew out the door to see gushing water exploding from the drainage hose hooked into the hot water heater. I immediately paused the washer, tossed bags and boxes across the garage out of the way of the water and called the landlords. Who came over two hours later. It was Sunday. After looking the problem up and down, they headed off to the local hardware store. Which was closed. It was Sunday. So they headed 20 minutes away to Lowes, got some supplies and came back. Another 15 minutes — all fixed! We start up the washer. Now water is spraying from the other end of the same connection to the hot water heater. {I did not bother asking why the washing machine was draining into the hot water heater.} What to do? Head back to Lowes. 40 minutes later, the washing machine is fixed and my underpants are on their way to being clean! Which was fabulous, because I forgot to mention that I was wearing my last pair. And I had to go to work the next day. Crimeny. The washer finishes, I toss everything into the dryer, turn it on and let the kids call their dad. 10 minutes later, with their father on the phone, the smoke alarm in the garage goes off. And blew my eardrums. Hey, “MOTHER OF THE YEAR” award, here I come! I hang up, call the landlords again. On a Sunday. How do I get this thing off?! “Take out the battery.” Hum. Safe. Effective. Let’s go with that. Upon further inspection, the silver dryer venting hose had come loose and was venting into the garage. The hot air tricked the smoke alarm into thinking it needed to alert the media. And Mars. My poor dog. After 15 minutes of wresting with an oddly-shaped hookie latch thingie, yours truly got the vent properly installed and the dryer rolling again! YAAY underpants!
The next two loads of laundry were uneventful. I noticed that both loads were very hot when I pulled them from the washer. I wonder… I went and got a monkey wrench from the tool box I had apparently stolen from my soon-to-be ex-husband {no matter that he didn’t know what a monkey wrench was, much less how to use one – tools go to the boy I guess.} Wrench in hand, I slid the washer away from the wall and found -HORROR- that the hot and cold water lines had been crossed. BOY INDEED! I unscrewed them, re-hooked them CORRECTLY and off we were to a very successful load #3.

Since that first weekend, I have taken out trash {hey, it’s a big deal when you haven’t done it for 9 years}, gone grocery shopping for 2 weeks with 3 children, unclogged a toilet ON A SUNDAY, hung frames, set up a computer, and just this morning, held the hair of my middle child who decided to vomit instead of tinkle before school. As a life-long sympathy puker, this was a big deal.

The good news here is that A) I can laugh about most of these things while they’re happening and B) it can only get better. Right?