Chaos theory

My theory about chaos is that it appears to be the default state for my life.  Things have been absolute insanity for the past month.

I went to Vegas for my big annual coach's convention for Beachbody.  It was really incredible - I got to meet tons of cool people, worked out with all the celebrity trainers (including a 5000 person workout outside on the Strip), went to some fancy parties, and attended a number of business training seminars, plus presentations on new product lines and inspirational stories about people who lost 200+ pounds doing P90X or coaches who were bankrupt 2 years ago and are now making 6 figures helping people get fit.

But it was certainly not a relaxing 4 days.  I was up most days by 5 or 5:30 to exercise, then going all day with the various seminars, then the parties and events.  Plus I was staying in a room with 4 other women, but the room only had 2 queen beds.  Memories of spring breaks gone by...

So I was kind of tired by the end of it, and eager to get home and hang with the kids and have some down time.

Except that when J picked me up at the airport Sunday morning, he had broken out in terrible hives.  Like, giant red welts that were itchy and burning.  It took two days and two doctor's visits for us to finally determine that the culprit was a new laundry detergent we had bought, but by then the damage was done.  So I spent the next 5 days washing everything in the house with hypoallergenic laundry detergent while trying to keep J comfortable and entertain the kids.

Here's a little slice of what that was like.

One afternoon after work and school, we decided to go to the movies to see Brave with the kids.  It was hot, so we thought it would be nice so see a fun movie and cool off, especially since the heat exacerbated J's hives.

All was well until we got to a scary part of the movie and Zeke crawled into J's lap.  Problem was, he was wearing clothes that had been washed in the bad detergent, and the contact between Zeke's clothes and J's arms caused the hives to flare up horribly.  The end of the movie coincided with J's skin being unbearably itchy and burning, so we left.  On the way out, Zeke bumped into something and got a bloody nose.  And did I mention that the elevator from the movie theater (on level 3) to the parking deck is perhaps the slowest elevator in the history of the world?

So we're standing there, waiting for the elevator to make its molassas-like ascent to us, J clawing his skin off, Zeke with blood pouring out of his face, Josie crying, and me wishing I could be back in Vegas sharing a tiny hotel room with 5 women.

Eventually, things calmed down.  We got the laundry all decontaminated.  J's skin got better.  We got a handle on the mice that like to invade our kitchen at night (our house is 116 years old and has gaps and holes in the wall all over the place - I have seriously found half-moon shaped mouse holes that look like something you would see in an old cartoon) - I've been going to town with the foam gap filler and shutting those fuckers out.

But the chaos is getting ready to start up again.  I'm leading a team of Beachbody coaches in a business competition that runs during July and August. And I'm participating in a business bootcamp for my coaching business that started today and runs for a month.  And I've got multiple fitness challenges that I'm moderating.  And we're going to the beach on Friday ("4 more sleeps, Mama!!").

Like I said, it's my default state.  But I'm happy with it.  It staves off the boredom.

I will leave you with a hilarious exchange between Zeke and Josie.  They were arguing over her new pink kickball.  Zeke wanted to play with it, Josie didn't feel like sharing.  My feeling on sharing is, I'm not going to make anyone do it.  I tell the kids, you can't make someone share with you.  What you can do is be a good friend and treat them nicely and be really fun to play with, and then people will want to share with you.  And if you're not sharing your toys with your friends, they're not going to want to be friends with you.  So work on your game.  (The first time I told Zeke this, he promptly stopped yelling at Josie and said, "Josie, I love you.")

Zeke:  Josie, you're not nice.  You're the meanest girl in the WHOLE WORLD!  AND YOU'RE NOT THE CUTEST, EITHER!!

Josie:  Oh, yes I am the cutest!  YES I AM!!

The girl knows her own currency, I'll give her that.