I had so many exciting things to tell you about today, like that the Great Scrabble Wars are alive and well (in case you were wondering, HOMEY is acceptable, but HOMEYLIT as the genre that results from rappers writing books is—for some reason—not) and that we’ve already nearly demolished the leftovers from the Super Bowl party, but I’m afraid that will all have to wait. My folks are getting ready to leave and head back up north this morning, and not a moment too soon.
(No, not because we want them gone. For their own safety.)
When my alarm went off this morning, I was in that place of deep, deep sleep where the alarm first incorporated itself into the dream I was having (I was in the university dining hall and my account was overdue, but I was REALLY HUNGRY) and then finally woke me, flailing and confused.
I lay back down for a minute trying to get my bearings and shake off the dream. Once I felt like I was truly awake, I headed upstairs.
While my parents have been here, they’ve been in Chickadee’s room and she has been temporarily bunking in the playroom that leads into Monkey’s room. So I opened the door to the playroom, flipped on the light, continued through to Monkey’s room, got him up, then came back through the playroom and woke Chickadee. Neither child is a morning person, so I didn’t find it surprising when both of them greeted me with nothing more than stretching and grunting. “Everyone up?” I asked, before heading back down the stairs.
“Mmmph,” they replied.
Satisfied, I went down to the kitchen, turned the lights on, and continued on into the office to check my email.
A minute later, Monkey appeared, bearing the missive every parent dreads:
“Chickie says she thinks she’s gonna throw up.”
I ran back up the stairs. Chickadee was huddled in the bathroom, clearly Not Having A Good Morning. (Does it make me a bad mother that my first thought was “Oh crap, did I kiss her on the mouth?”) I stayed with her for a minute and then came back downstairs to
bleach my mouth and hands fetch her a bucket, and I was back upstairs just in time to hold her hair back. Lucky me!
Oh, there is nothing more pitiful than a child with a stomach bug. NOTHING.
So. Um. All my plans for today—the stuff that seemed important, a couple of hours ago, the catching up I’d finally be able to do now that my parents are leaving—well, I can kiss those goodbye. Preferably on the cheek, so as to avoid the spread of any more germs.
Chickadee is now resting comfortably in the big bed. Otto didn’t seem completely sold on this course of events, but I explained that the ONLY benefit of being sick is getting to rest in Mama’s bed. And also that I’d tucked her in with her own pillow, stuffed bear, and a bucket.
Monkey was fine this morning, but I don’t expect THAT to last. When something like this happens, I just go on high alert until everyone has fallen. You know it’s inevitable and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it except wait and stock up on Lysol.
But yesterday Chickadee’s new glasses FINALLY arrived. After searching high and low the only frame we’d found that we both sort of agreed on was this ridiculously-named Disney frame (remember? princess sparkle pretty pants?) only carried by the most expensive shop in town, so I’d ordered it for her online from someplace a little cheaper. Apparently they broke a lens while making them, and also they were made by a single wizened troll who lives under a bridge in Iowa, because it took a MONTH for them to show up. By the time the UPS man dropped them off, yesterday, Chickadee had become convinced they were NEVER coming, and it was SO! EXCITING! to finally have them.
Let me tell you something. I knew something was seriously wrong when we opened the box and instead of a glasses CASE, the glasses came in what appears to be a little PURSE. A plastic-and-velvet purse, yes, that says DISNEY PRINCESS on the side in CRYSTALS.
Thank goodness the glasses are just normal glasses, but I suppose I can’t pretend to be surprised that there’s barfing happening around here, now. Whether the little purse contained actual germs or just made us nauseous with the over-the-top PRINCESSNESS, the result us that now I have a bucket in my bed.
Pray for us.