When Things Get Derailed
I can't control it all
No one in my family ever liked the Roomba.
My husband and kids always complained about it.
The thing was loud. It was annoying. And the dogs barked at it every time it turned on.
Each day the Roomba started it’s morning vacuum, it enviably got trapped under the couch or wrapped around the legs of a chair or stuck dangling off the steps to the basement. And when it got jammed mid-cycle, it ended up chiming at random, for hours until someone would come to save it. It once lodged itself underneath my daughter’s bed and woke her up by announcing itself at 2am, “Error 9. Check Roomba now.”
Plus, no one in our house actually believed it did any sort of substantial cleaning whatsoever.
At approximately 9 AM yesterday morning, we unfortunately encountered a situation that finally led to the demise of “Deez Nuts” - that was the name of our late Roomba - and I think I might have been the only individual in our household saddened by its departure.
I called my husband and told him one solitary piece of good news. “Guess what? The Roomba is no longer going to be an issue.”
He was thrilled to hear this, but unfortunately that’s where the good news ended.
A little over twenty-four hours ago, after my workout, I headed upstairs to grab a quick shower and change. I was only gone for fifteen minutes or so, when I came into the kitchen to grab some breakfast. I discovered Deez Nuts by the refrigerator doing its thing - spinning in circles, bumping into the kitchen cabinets and banging into the island stools and thought nothing of it, until I noticed a horrid smell.
I tiptoed carefully, terrified of what I might find as I peered around the corner into the family room. That’s when I saw the brutal crime scene before me.
I knew right away based on the evidence I’d collected that Bunker, our 5 year old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, had pooped all over the house. But he didn’t just go to the bathroom in one spot. He dropped about six or seven nuggets in various places spread evenly throughout the first floor like tiny minefields, placed strategically in the dining room, family room, part of the kitchen I hadn’t noticed before, as well as the front hallway.
And the Roomba was mid-cycle.
I walked slowly into the dining room, to survey the scene, praying to a god of my understanding with fingers crossed that the rotating vacuum had not spun through a nugget of poop yet.
But no such luck.
Deez Nuts had made a direct hit and sunk one of Bunker’s battleships, and there was poo smeared across my favorite dining room rug. And the worst part was, the Roomba had already finished its cleaning of the dining room and moved onto its next room, meaning it had dragged poo across multiple rooms.
I turned the Roomba off and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes, as Bunker rubbed his little head against my legs, as if to apologize. I called my oldest son down so he could bear witness to the massacre, hoping that maybe he would offer to help. He began gagging - so much for his assistance! But we did get a good laugh out of it together before he raced into the kitchen to joyfully toss Deez Nuts into the trashcan.
For the rest of the day, I spent hours scrubbing carpets and dumping Bona on the hardwood floors like it was kerosene. Instead of working on the other various projects I had planned, my day was derailed by poop.
But I wasn’t even mad about it.
I attribute my newfound ability to stay calm and relaxed in these types of situations to my recovery program. I know this is a silly story and it might seem trivial in the grand scheme of what’s going on out there in the world around us. But this is just one small example of how I can now let go of the things that are outside of my control. Everyday I must ask for help and pray to my higher power to guide me when life doesn't go as planned.
Five years ago, when I was drinking, if this Roomba debacle had taken place, my reaction would have been drastically different. Perhaps, to manage the frustration and anger, maybe I would have poured myself a drink. Or maybe not. Honestly, I don’t know anymore, because I’m so far removed from that person today. It’s hard to remember how I used to think.
Thankfully, drinking to cope now feels like a lifetime ago. And soon enough, the memory of this Roomba will too.
I appreciate my ability to practice patience every single day, even in the shittiest of situations 😂
Oh girl that happened to us too!! 😂😂 what a disaster. I had forgotten all about the “numba” as my then 3 year old daughter called it. He’s been retired for years now, rest his soul lol.
I had a similar experience this week. My son was upset because he had to stop playing with friends and go to jujitsu. He’s 9. He was making up all sorts of excuses why he couldn’t or shouldn’t go. This is the first week back to routine after being on vacation for 2 weeks. He was crying and irrational. Saying things like “I never going to get to play with my friends and no ones going to be able to play later, I hate jujitsu etc. I started to try and make him see that was not true, convince him otherwise, which was not helping.
I stopped and noticed how I was feeling. Very uncomfortable. I wanted his feelings to go away. I wanted to fix it for him. And then I just quit talking. The rest of the way to class I said nothing. Just let him act and feel how he wanted. He had calmed down when we got there, was quiet. Told him love you and have a great workout.
Before I quit drinking (2021) I would have continued to engage, to try and show him I was right, that what he felt was not true instead of just letting him work it out. Huge growth moment for me. I felt really proud. I was able to recognize in the moment that I am not responsible for other people’s feelings. I don’t have to control or fix things. They usually work themselves out.
He came home from class with his usual slurpee, sweaty and smiling.