Monday, December 16, 2013

Stormy Seas

I must be a glutton for punishment to have put myself through such harrowing experiences yesterday.  My emotions were in turmoil, my gut churning with uncertainty like the waves on a raging sea, the surges of joy followed closely by the crashing and sinking of despair and angst.

Of course, I'm talking about watching the Packer game and the episode of Downton Abbey from Season 3 that left everyone unsure whether to riot or see their doctor for an emergency prescription of anti-depressents.

First of all, I must apologize to everyone who follows me on Twitter because I know I become somewhat of a maniac during Packer games.  During normal games, I tweet pretty often and I like to follow along with the banter being tossed around by those far more knowledgeable and witty than myself, but I was an absolute tweeting lunatic yesterday.  The first half felt like I was watching a pee-wee football game and tempers were flaring on Twitter like nothing I have ever seen because the Packers were playing what can only be described as some of the worse football in the history of EVER.  When fortunes turned around after halftime, I couldn't refresh my feed fast enough and the boys and I were going absolutely wild in our living room.  Isaiah sat next to me asking so many questions that made me very proud and also annoyed the living crap out of me:

Was that a touchdown?
What's an interception?
Where is Aaron Rodgers?
Why are the Packers getting a fumble?

And the very best one - Why did they say that wasn't an interception, Mommy?

Well, I couldn't very well tell him the truth and say that the refs were idiots, so I tried to sugar-coat it and said that the officials "made a mistake."  Then when the most epic comeback I have ever witnessed started to unfold, all three boys were as wrapped up in the action as I was.

After the Packers scored the touchdown that put them ahead late in the fourth quarter, I jumped up and down in celebration.  Isaiah and Micah also jumped up and down.  Thomas jumped down from the couch and tried to run around to show his excitement, but got a bit ahead of himself.  He biffed it and face planted into the floor, splitting his lip open.  So I sat there on the floor, holding a screaming toddler and a bloody Kleenex while I prayed for the defense get their ever-loving act together just long enough to get a stop.

And then the elation.  The triumph! The jubilation when booth reviewed the idiotic ruling on the field that Williams' interception was an incomplete pass and the victory was in hand.  We high-fived, we yelled, we kissed fat lips all better.

See what I mean?  Emotionally harrowing, I tell you!!!

After the kids went to bed, I wrapped a few Christmas presents and then sat down to write a letter of recommendation for a young lady's college admission - both of which were completed while I watched the masterpiece that is Downton Abbey on PBS.  They were re-playing a few of the episodes from season 3 and it made the perfect background for what I was doing.

I held my warm cup of pumpkin spice chai tea latte with fat free Redi-Whip in my hand, snuggled in my new fluffy blanket from Target, enjoyed the glow of the flames in my fireplace, and sobbed my bloody eyes out once again as it happened.  I'm not going to write any spoilers here because I'm pretty sure my sister-in-law would drive over to my house and smother me in my sleep if I did, but all Downton fans will know what I'm talking about.  It was THE episode.  Not the last one, but the OTHER one.  The one that made us all come undone.  The one that took us all by surprise and left us screaming, "No no no no!!!!" at our TVs and cursing those horrible Brits for making us love these characters so much. 

Even though I knew it was coming, I still wanted to shake Lord Grantham like an Etch-a-Sketch.

Such highs and lows for one day.  Elation and devastation.  Just another Sunday for this Business Trip Widow.  

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