I am nothing if not inconsistent; I started writing here again and then I saw something shiny and wandered off. Or, more accurately, life happened and I realized I’d abandoned you again. I’m a jerk. I have no other defense.
There’s two things I’ve been meaning to share, though of course the more time that passes, the more I realize that they may be interesting only to me. NO MATTER! You will care about my Bowl Situation, yes you will, and also I can never resist the opportunity to point out when I have completely screwed up as a parental unit, so here we go.
Matter the first: “You’re fine!”
Monkey has missed quite a bit of school this month. We all had a stomach bug shortly after the kids returned post-winter-break, and then the following week he had a brief relapse, and so when the third week rolled around and he AGAIN said he wasn’t feeling great, I was having none of it. NO SIR, YOU ARE HEALTHY AS A HORSE, GO TO SCHOOL. I did this because:
1) I’m an idiot jerkface
2) I figured he had somehow become acclimated to the newish routine of “but I don’t go to school on Thursday/Friday anymore”
3) Sometimes I forget that hey, my autistic child has a VERY high threshold for discomfort and does not complain (mostly) unless he is probably dying
Anyway, I sent him to school that fateful Thursday, thinking this was a bit of drama. When he texted me at lunch that he had a TERRIBLE headache, I reminded him that he had a test that afternoon and sent his sister to deliver Advil and a Coke and a pep talk. Twenty minutes later my neglected and abused child texted to say the Advil was maybe a bad idea because he’d thrown it up…? And then I realized I was a monster.
Allow me to remind you, here, that Monkey is no longer a small child. My gangly 15-year-old is taller than me, though—like most large-breed puppies—he still believes himself a tiny lap-creature. When I arrived to fetch him from school I wanted nothing more than to pick him up and carry him to the car, I was so alarmed by his pallid appearance. I spent the ride home contemplating whether I should try to get him in to the doctor that afternoon or wait a bit. In the end, I decided to wait (because he said all he wanted to do was go home and go to sleep), and he slept the remainder of the day. It was not, of course, until well past office hours that it became clear that he was burning up and unable to keep anything down.
Spoiler alert: I sent my kid to school with the flu. Yep.
Friday was mostly spent getting him diagnosed, finding out that he had a bonus ear infection as well (did he say a single word about that infected ear? NOPE), his lungs sounded “a little worrying,” and our awesome pediatrician kept us long enough to give him some anti-emetics and rehydrate him before sending us to the pharmacy to pick up All The Drugs. It was hard to manage all of that while self-flagellating over not realizing how sick he was the day before, because on Friday his appearance and behavior was truly alarming and HOW DID I NOT REALIZE? I was reminded of a nasty bout of rotovirus he’d had as a toddler, when he stopped playing to puke every fifteen minutes (and appeared confused but unbothered) but later crawled into my lap, lay on my chest, and was just… still and silent and dehydrated and SCARY AS HELL. Friday was like that. Jokes aside, he was just so sick it was hard to watch.
He slept and slept and slept and got up and said, “I feel much better!” (temperature: 101) and twenty minutes later went back to bed. I woke him for meds last night and he said, “I feel way better!” (temperature: 103; oh THERE’S my darling sensorily confused kid) and took his meds and went back to sleep for 14 hours. This morning? “I feel a lot better than yesterday!” (Temperature upon waking: 101.) I think he managed to stay awake a full half hour, this time.
Hey, I could’ve summed up that whole thing with: Monkey has the flu and I continue to be well-meaning but somewhat inept. The end.
Matter the second: Bowlpocalypse
At some point maybe a decade ago I stumbled on a great deal on some sturdy white dishware… I don’t even know what it is, Corning-something, maybe, but not Corelle… and they are my favorite dishes ever. Heavy, but not too heavy. Plain, but not boring (the plates are square, which I like). The coffee mugs it came with are oversized (MOAR COFFEEEEEEE) and the bowls are deep. I scooped up a service for 16 and have been very happy with them.
Over the years I have compensated for the shortcomings of the set; the large plates are gigantic and the “lunch” plates still pretty sizable, so I bought some fun polka-dotted dessert-sized plates at some point. Also you don’t always want a bowl that can hold a whole quart of ice cream, so I bought a cute set of small bowls, too.
In the past decade EXCLUDING this year, we broke maybe… two bowls. Hey, it happens. But this past year has not been a good one for the bowls, for some reason, and we are now down to maybe half the original count. Earlier this week I swear to God a half-eaten bowl of gnocchi LEAPT out of the fridge when I opened it and smashed into a million pieces on the kitchen floor. (I then scolded the gnocchi-eater, who swore the bowl was FINE when originally placed.) (“Would you like some more ceramic shards with the gnocchi?”) We have reached the critical point where we sometimes run out of bowls before the dishwasher has been run. This is unacceptable.
I don’t really want a whole new set of dishes, nor do I want to pay a bajillion dollars at someplace like Replacements.com for just the bowls (which were never sold separately). I’m on the hunt for COMPATIBLE bowls to round things out, but every time I think I’ll buy something I am paralyzed by indecision and end up with nothing. What if I buy the wrong bowls??? The struggle is real.
And yes, the bowl thing was the biggest worry I had before Monkey got sick. Now I can either worry about the bowls or focus on the near-certain eventuality of Chickie getting the flu as well. So. BOWLS IT IS! Please remit bowl suggestions. Tall/deep vs. wide is preferred. Cheapness a plus. Flu-free, please.