One of Mamakat’s writing prompts this week reminded me of that stressful day back in October, when we moved to this house.
Whom did you hide from? Write about a hiding place you haven’t used for a while.
If you followed my blog or my tweets around that time frame, then you remember it was not a wonderful time of our lives. In fact, it sucked big time. We were getting serious crap from both our families about moving four hours away, and some of them still seem to take it as a personal insult to them that we did so, even 6 months later. It didn’t seem to matter that we weren’t doing it out of choice, but necessity…one poignant statement made by JB during this time: “Sure, we can stay here. How about we move in with you and let you support our family, SINCE I WON’T HAVE A JOB?”
Saturday, October 9, 2009. Moving day. JB and his best friend left almost two hours ahead of us, since they were driving the U-Haul trucks. He missed all the fun and fireworks that happened at our old house that morning, during which I was seriously weighing the gravity of spending a lifetime in prison for murder versus the torture of keeping my mouth shut. I have never wanted to stab people more than I did that morning. I finally just grabbed Evil Kitteh’s carrier (in which he was quietly drugged up for the trip), and announced that the cat and I were mutha fluckin’ leaving. (Okay, so that’s what I was thinking. I might be 33 29 years old, but my Mama would still smack me if I said that in her presence.)
We drove. And drove. And drove some more. The drugged up cat wasn’t very good company, honestly. I was still fuming about the mess that had gone down before we hit the road, and then we were suddenly caught in the mother of all monsoons halfway to the new house. I have never been so terrified in my life! I couldn’t see two feet in front of my Jeep, cars were hydroplaning all over the place, and all I could think about was the fact that my family members were all separated into 6 different vehicles and that drastically increased the odds of something awful happening. I spent the next hour crazily telling THE CAT it would be okay, praying harder than I ever have that we would all safely get through the storm, and hoping that my husband and his friend had not gotten caught in this in those big trucks. I often had to pull off the interstate because I literally could not see. Traffic was insane. I was scared. The storm finally let up, and we were all back on the road again. I had finally gotten in touch with JB, and they were thankfully already at the house and had seen sunshine the whole way.
Unloading the U-Haul trucks was chaotic, because nobody wanted to pay attention to anyone else, and my carefully planned packing system and my OCD packing notebook went ignored for a long time. People were screaming for me to come tell them where everything was supposed to go, I was getting pulled in a hundred directions, and was so close to snapping it just wasn’t funny. After months of not knowing if we were moving, where we would live, where the kids would go to school, my husband living away from the family during the week, and our families being convinced the world revolved around them…I was seriously at my breaking point.
After contemplating stabbing people again, I ran to the master bathroom, locked the door, and slumped down in the stand up shower. It was the farthest place away from everyone that I could find. Evil Kitteh was still in there, sleeping off the drugs. I bonded with the cat that day. I have used that hiding place a time or two since then. Maybe not slumping in the shower, and the cat’s not in there anymore, but locking that door makes me feel like I’m away from it all.
When I finally ventured out of my hiding place, I looked high and low for my husband. I couldn’t find him anywhere, and nobody had seen him. I was baffled, because hello? This place isn’t that big, there was only so many places he could possibly be! And then about half an hour later, he appeared in front of me like magic. I asked where he’d been, but he either never said or one of us got called in to settle yet another move in dispute.
It wasn’t until after everyone had left for the night, and we were finally alone in our quiet but box filled home, that he told me where he’d been when I was looking for him. He was in the attic. The pull down is in the hallway, and I guess he saw a chance to open it and crawl up there when no one was looking, and quietly folded the stairs back up and closed the door. He said he sat up there for at least twenty minutes, and nobody ever knew.
My first thought? I want to hit him for hiding from me. My second thought? You jerk, why didn’t you let me in on the secret, I could have gone up there with you! My third thought? That spot could have some definite possibilities…
And starting next week, my first summer as a SAHM will begin. I love my children dearly…but I’m nervous about spending 24 hours a day, 7 days a week with them. I might not make it out alive. Maybe I need to go up and dust off the attic hiding spot now…