“I’m feeling rather loopy,” I mentioned to my husband last
night, while shaking a bag of pretzels and doing a little dance in Aisle 6 of
the supermarket. We had had our first
babysitting in weeks, and the date night at the steakhouse—as always—ended up
as a shopping trip; it is honestly a complete blast to shop as a couple if you
are used to having to cart kids every time.
Well, if he didn’t believe me then, he knew I was “off” when
I laughed almost to tears while I pointed out to him, “Do you REALIZE… (giggle)
that when you take out the S’s, the store is ‘Top and Hop’?!? ROFL…”
“Okay. You don’t do
drugs, so I’m going with a sinus infection again. Do you have any symptoms?”
“No, not really, I’m just a bit dizzy. And tired.
And I have a little cold. Only cough
a little. Slight headache. I’m fine.”
Yeah right. Hate
when he’s right. I really did have the
hubris to think I wouldn’t get his cold.
Or my baby’s, who regularly sneezes in my face and laughs at the
sound.
The morning after, I am here holding my pounding forehead
with one hand. I had boiled water for
tea, but wandered off and forgot to put the tea in; it’s waiting to be boiled
again. I made eggs, but lost the energy to eat them. I got distracted by half an episode of “Chopped.” And then I fast-forwarded through the news I
recorded from last night, to the part where the weatherman held up the picture
of himself with a certain third-grade class.
“MOM, that’s ME! Right there on
TV! See?” Jumping with delight, she hammered at the screen with her finger
at a tiny face in the crowd. “Oh, that’s
awesome sweetie!” I exclaimed at the appropriate time.
I think that’s going to be the most active part of my
day. I’m now listening to my 8 year old
and 3 year old attempting to play “Pretty Pretty Princess” behind my
chair. It’s not going well.
8-“Okay, you rolled a three, so you need to put back your
bracelet.”
3-“Oh NO! Not my pwetty
bwacelet!”
8-(With a painful attempt at patience) “Don’t worry
sweetie; you’ll get it back.”
3-“But I want THAT ONE!!
WAAAA!”
8-“Roll the die… Move your pawn to four.”
3- “NOOOO!”
8- “Oh look! You
get to take ANY piece of jewelry!”
3- “Oh WOW! HooWAY!”
(Struggles up from floor to do a happy stomping dance.)
Attempts to have them change the game have been
unsuccessful. (“But I WANT the
CWOWN! I LOVE the CWOWN!”) I jump every time the volume goes up as I’m
hoping my 1 year old keeps napping.
It is inadvisable to blog on a “topic” today--as you see all I can manage is to give "play-by-play" of oh-so-fascinating domestic events--so frankly
I’m just going to see if I have any leftover antibiotics in the back of my pantry. Or maybe they're in the fridge. Okay fine, I’ll call the doctor
instead. Or boil some hot peppers and
inhale that, hear that can work. No,
not the neti-pot. Got any great tea? Groann….
“YOU WON THE GAME!
HOORAY!” Oh bliss. Oh God bless eight-year olds.
Oh
no, wait. They are dumping out the
costume box to celebrate with a princess parade.
“Nope, I’m sorry, I’m wearing this one.”
It’s
loud. I’m sick. Stay well.
Pray for me. Soccer games are
taking up the telly, but the bed looks lonely.
Hmm. Sure they won’t miss me,
right? Zzz… - TLC
Oh, your writing is delightful!
ReplyDeleteI'm friends with Melissa and she posted a link so some of her friends could read your blog.
Keep up the good work.