I thought it was sewage, but it's skunk. Actually, it's both... (AKA, It's April again)

Oh April.  You continue to be a challenge for me.  Sometimes I think of you as my nemesis, but I'm really trying to let that one go because I feel it gives you control over me.  But, ever since 2004 I have been terrified of April.  Losing mom on April 15 haunts me.  Every year the tax season approaches with a constant barrage of commercials, signs, radio spots, etc to remind me the anniversary is coming. Losing dad five years later at the same time further embedded my dislike of the month. Then two years after that, the favorite cat, the one Will got me to help me through my grief of losing mom, she died on April 15th as well.  At the beginning of every April I tell myself I won't allow all of these facts to make an entire month emotional torture.  And usually I do fairly well for at least the first week.  But that second week of April seems to be just enough to push me to my limits.

It's 4am and I'm writing a blog because I can't sleep and have been up since 2:30am.  My mind is racing with any number of things I should be doing. I try all the "tricks" to let it go.  Really, I'd love to think I'm some brilliant mind with important problems to solve, but it's the mundane that keep me awake.  The fact that there are dishes left in the sink. The messy couch in the sunroom.  Evie's absolutely too belated birthday party happening later today, which got entirely too big and makes me feel out of control (really Liz? 20+ adults and 20+ kids for a 3 YEAR OLDS PARTY????!!!).  Thank God I at least wasn't crazy enough to think I could host it at our house.  But, all the little details of how to keep 20+ toddlers happily occupied seems to be weighing on me.  I know this is not Northwestern's orientation, and no one but me really cares how well it goes off, but my brain doesn't seem to be able to shut down the freak-out either way.

I love the romantic idea of sitting at my computer in the early morning hours sipping coffee, but I don't start it brewing because I know I'll need the caffeine desperately in a few hours and it's not fair to Cora to put that much into my milk supply.  So here I sit, exhausted, yet somehow unable to sleep, and writing this ridiculous entry.  

I'll say it now -- if you're anyone other than me reading this, I apologize for this entry.  It's going to be raw.  And all over the place.  But I'm writing it on the blog for a few reasons: (1) I don't keep a diary to write this shit in.  I should have one. But who has the time. (2) The whole reason I started this blog was to eventually print it as a keepsake for the girls.  I want them to know what it was really like being their mom.  I crave the conversation I'll never get to have with my mom about what these years were like.  God forbid something happens to me where I'm unable to share these stories with Evie and Cora in person.  I want it on the record. And (3), 10 or 20 or 30 (or even 2) years from now when I try to convince myself things were always perfect in the past, I can read these entries and know life isn't perfect.  It's messy, and we do our best.

So anyway, this year April started off with our house smelling horribly.  Don't get me wrong, there is no comparison of past Aprils horrible events and a stinky house.  But, it still seems that April really enjoys being the month that tests my limits.  The night of March 31st, Bill, Kathy, Will and I were sniffing around the basement trying to determine if we were having a sewage backup.  Turns out that a skunk had decided our yard was the best place to let out his final spray before he began slowly

Mr. skunk

dying.  The skunk smell is still wafting through the house two weeks later.  But, before we had discovered the dying skunk in the yard, we had already called a plumber to schedule a main line rodding.  And when he came, he somehow entered the Bermuda triangle of plumbing issues.  He said we were really lucky we called when we did because we were in fact about to have a massive backup.  He discovered something called a grease trap in our basement that hadn't been serviced in at least a decade.  That smell that we were searching out? It was the grease trap. And a skunk. Combined. On the same exact night.  And now we're told we have to rip up the floor in the basement to get rid of the trap or risk it backing up on us any given rainy day.  Perfect.  Why do Will and I love older houses again?

I have so much more to say, but my body is telling me to try try try to go back to sleep because I need to be peppy and fun and a good mom in a few hours for this party.  Evie will be awake for the day in another hour or so. So instead of continuing this awful post, and attempting to turn it into something cute and worth sharing, I'll end it here.  I do have some great stories to share about the girls.  But they'll have to wait.  And anyway, I hear Evie crying upstairs, so I need to go help her get back to sleep...