crazy validation

i don't mean "crazy, validation!" like "that's crazy validation," i mean crazy validation period. like crazy. validation. actual crazy. my actual crazy. has been validated. do you know what i mean? i love it when this happens! everyone has a little crazy. and by everyone, i mainly mean me. my little crazy rears it's head via the old standards of OCD and/or paranoia. i'm the kind of paranoid that gets nervous looking at roller coasters, thinking there may be a screw loose in there. i know i may have a screw loose but whatev. so let me set the scene. picture it. austin texas. 2008. (didn't you love sophia from the golden girls? i did.) the kids love their pottery barn kids wooden shape sorter. there are blocks of various shapes. you sort them into the appropriately shaped hole. lots of fun. there are six shaped blocks. from time to time a block or two goes missing. much like everything else in our house that can fit in little one-year-old hands. i pretty much clean up each room that has been conquered at least two times per day. i like to make sure all the puzzle pieces are accounted for, no misplaced snacks in the ball pit, blocks in the appropriate holes in the shape sorter. this day, only five blocks. one is missing. no big deal. i'll find it. it happens to be the circle shaped block. the most coveted of all blocks in the shape sorter. it's the go to block. for some reason, the circle goes first. i think because it's the first one they both figured out how to "sort" so it's a confidence booster. it gets the morale up to triumph over the other blocks to be sorted. so i really must find it. pressure is on. normally when i'm looking for something i might ask R and C to help. "who can help me find C's sock?," "has anyone seen the purple sippy cup?" this however, was a different situation. i did not want to alert their attention to the missing fav block. if they haven't noticed it is missing at this moment, no need for a "beepbeepbeep. beepbeepbeep. this just in" scare. so, i'm on my own. toy baskets emptied. no circle. laundry hamper emptied. no circle. crevice behind the glider. no circle. diaper champ. no circle. (ok, i just checked the top. if the little circle actually made it into the smelliness, too bad. i'm not going in.). wow. it's really hiding, read: been hidden, well. we'll just have to move on. it will turn up. maybe it got smuggled to a different room and we'll find it weeks later in a plant. fast forward. then it happened. it was 3 a.m. i was sleeping. i awoke with an epiphany. like a eureka epiphany. eurekapiphany (obviously just made that up). i remember the day prior. we went about our business as usual. we ate, we played, we changed diapers, we put the diapers into a bag for disposal upon our departure, dressed, ready to go. i casually threw the bag o' diapers onto my vehicle so i could throw them directly in the outside garbage (which i always do) and am now remembering a "clunk." not a big clunk. but it was somewhat unexpected. i knew there was poop but it would indicate some kind of excretory (real word) problem for poop to clunk in this manner. so i thought maybe it just hit the windshield wiper funny and that was it. kids in car. diaper in outside garbage. wipe hands. pat on back. (hey, this routine is no small task. the getting everyone ready and out to the car to start our errands task. not for the weary. we're like a well-oiled machine at this point). but now it is all clear to me. at 3 a.m. the circle shaped block was in the bag. i know it. that was the clunk i heard. sneaky! don't they realize that they placed the most coveted block in the dirty disgusting bag o' dirty disgusting diapers? the bag that gets sent out to the outside trash? this means you won't see your beloved circle shaped block again. hello cause and effect. when is it going to hit? i'm proud of my detective savvy at this moment. except. it's tuesday now. tuesday morning. in our neighborhood the trash gets picked up on tuesday mornings. [slow motion] noooooooooooooooo. if i am right and if the cherished circle shaped block is in the trash, it won't be for long. it will be in a landfill somewhere in a matter of hours. all this worry and crazy paranoia and the circle shaped block could be resting peacefully behind a couch cushion for all i know. i need to relax. but i can't. because i have the crazy paranoia/OCD combo. and it's a doozie. it will get you. with all this turmoil, i do manage to get back to sleep where i most likely dreamt of garbage cans, circles, dumpsters, circles, and if it was possible for pottery barn kids to send me a circle shaped block replacement if i really asked nicely. i get up and start our business, breakfast preparation and the occasional round with the dust-mop. with my spouse, we go in to greet our darlings. i mention the missing circle shaped block to my spouse. he knows this is a big deal. it's the circle. i tell him my bag o'diapers clunking on the car story. he doesn't say anything. except that it's trash day. which i already knew. are you thinking this is a long freaking story about a stupid block? au contraire mon freir (had to look it up. at my own expense, here's how i spelled it the first time: oh contrer monfrer). i love my spouse. this is why i married this man. he went out and checked the outside trash. of course, i even knew what kind of bag the bag o' diapers was. he returned. wait for it...circle block in hand. yes! this is exciting on many levels but the one i am clinging to at this moment is that my crazy has been validated. because i know things. so what if i am crazy paranoid and OCD? it's working for me. it works. and even though my spouse mocks and sometimes disregards my crazy, thinking it's just that. he didn't this day. after i cleaned the circle shaped block, we all did a circle shaped block welcome home dance. ok, it was just me. the kids were like "big whoop. a block. like we don't have 892 other blocks in the house. we hated the circle anyway. that's why we put it in the shape sorter first. we want to get rid of it. we finally decided it was time to pull out the big guns. right to the trash. and not just any trash. the bag o' dirty diapers. she'll never go in there. and then it goes right outside with the most heinous of the trash contents. and, hello. we knew it was monday. just in time for trash pick-up. give us a little credit lady."

eurekaphiphany

reunited and it feels so good