I missed last Thursday. And today is a filler post. But it has taken me a while to get back on track.
Last week I spent Monday cleaning and Tuesday refilling the pantry and fridge and Wednesday doing laundry and basically last week was all about getting back into real life. I even paid bills. So sad.
Then we put our kids in All Mountain Ski School and I decided I should go skiing too. This coming weekend is my continuing law courses at Big Sky and I wanted to buy a $20 ski pass before I spent much, much much more to find out if I could find my center of balance on skis.
I did. Although I skied so tensely, my thighs burned. I am a nervous pregnant skier.
Before Christmas, my whole family was sick and yet I prevailed. I was the lone wolf. I was invincible. I had the flu shot. I was eating oranges and sleeping.
And then it all changed.
I’ve watched all of the playoff games and the college championship now. I”m getting caught up on bad tv. My children are eating prepared Costco food. For some of you, that might not sound like much of a difference, but before I was sick, I had not watched a single football game from start to finish.
That’s how bad it was.
But I shall conquer this illness and download my pictures and tell you my top ten of Europe.
Just after I take a nap.
Aaah! How we LOVED Florence
I was sick yesterday. I was working out and I think I pinched a nerve, causing a massive headache and nausea. It was not my favorite moment. Luckily, I was able to see a chiropractor and he helped me live another day. But as I was sitting with a garbage pail at my feet and my friend driving me around, all I kept thinking was: Do Not Throw Up.
This caused me to reflect. (The pain meds probably helped as well. They made everything so pretty, creating a more reflective atmosphere.)
Why is throwing up socially unacceptable?
We’ve all done it and probably will one day again. We know that in general you always feel better when you throw up even if it’s only for a little while. That almost sick feeling with your mouth salivating is one of the worst feelings ever invented ever and if you can throw up and not feel it for 20 minutes, why do we do everything in our power to hold it down? What would happen if we all threw up when we felt like it?
I think we should give it a try. Just don’t try it by me. I think throwing up is gross.
(There’s no picture. I think it’s best. Don’t you?)
Two weeks ago, I promised my daughter I would take her to OZ The Great and Powerful. But then my son was exposed to whooping cough and due to the fact he slept with one blanket he woke up with a cough and the school nurse took his temp which was 99.3 and I went in to volunteer and went home with a kid which screwed up the week because I took him to get tested which then kicked in a school district policy and he stayed home the rest of the week.
But all my daughter knew was that I had PROMISED her and it didn’t happen. The injustice of it all was really just too much to bare and had she been independently wealthy, I’m pretty sure she would’ve moved out.
I recently rectified the situation by taking my children to OZ The Great and Powerful. It was fine, by the way. But it taught me a lesson. I’m never promising my children anything ever again. Without a stipulation.
The stipulation I have chosen is: as long as Zeus and Apollo agree. This way I can get out of things that don’t quite work and teach my children Greek mythology (along with useless Magnum PI trivia.)
Because if I say I will do something, I generally can and do what I say. But sometimes girl scouts, piano, swimming, cub scouts, homework, sleep, and bad teen television get in the way. And I’ve been trying to do a cleanse. Which means I’m in a bad mood and having a sugar withdrawal headache. But none of these things seem to be good enough reasons.
Which is why the Gods invented Zeus and Apollo.
I couldn’t have made it to now without the help of my friends.
It’s interesting. When I was sick and needed help, I didn’t accept much. We hired a nanny and I made do with what I could. Friends would ask how they could help and generally I would say that everything was “fine.”
Now, we’re living 20 minutes from school and activities and I can’t make it through a week without help from my friends.
I could’ve if nothing broke and no one got sick and people drove the speed limit on York Road instead of 10-20 mph UNDER it.
But my window shattered (DO NOT put your barbeque in front of a large glass window. I’m being very descriptive here; just in case you have a large concrete window. Anyway – Barbeques heat up. If it is cold outside, the contrast between hot and cold will cause your window to shatter. It may take 5 years, but shatter it will. This will not, however, affect how good the steak tastes.)
And one day you will wake up, and make cinnamon rolls for your kids’ breakfast because you are just that domestic. But your oven doesn’t actually heat. And the repair guy can only come during the time you pick up your kids. And your son wants to stay after for an activity.
So you have your kids walk to a friend’s house where they will stay until another friend picks your son up and then picks them up and then drives out to your condo so that they will get back that much faster so that they can start on homework, piano playing, and reading.
I couldn’t have done all I’ve done without my friends. I’m so grateful to everyone who is helping me. It usually takes something I CAN’T do without someone else in order to ask or accept help. I hate being a burden. I think this is both a good and bad personality trait. I think I will ponder this a bit more drinking a peppermint hot chocolate.
Once the house is finished, I’ll have everyone over for lunch. Which I will have catered because if I cooked it, it wouldn’t be much of a thank you.
A friend on Facebook wrote how she sent her kid to school with a cough, and how her kid’s friend’s mother called to make sure her kid was ok. Many commented how they do the same but one person wrote how you should keep your kids home because it is unfair, contagious, blah, blah blah. She wrote this in caps – Facebook equivalent of yelling.
Here is my answer.
- If my kid goes to school with a cough and gets your kid sick and you’re a mom who will keep her kid home, my child will surpass your kid in spelling.
- I grew up being Jennifer Grey in Ferris Bueller (my brother always skipped school) and therefore ALL of my children must barf up a lung to stay home.
- If my children stay home, I cannot take my 11 am nap.
- I don’t want a super cough to be developed by overuse of staying home medications.
- It’s just a stupid cough.
This is a picture of a cough with the lense cap left on.
And your excuse?
Why you should not go grocery shopping on the 5th day of illness by Marianne Hansen Rencher
Ahem (clearing of throat)
- You buy 25 frozen TV dinners.
- You buy 13 single serving ice cream containers because they are so cute and would feel nice going down your throat and aren’t that many calories although you plan on eating all 13 today.
- You are standing in front of the donuts when you realize that you have never bought your family a dozen donuts and because you are going to die from consumption, you buy a dozen chocolate frosted donuts.
- You put two of the chocolate frosted donuts back and get two your husband may like until you realize that after you die he will probably marry a younger woman, the jerk.
- You spend 15 minutes picking out a box of Kleenex until you realize that the ones you really want – the ones with Menthol so that when you blow your nose it makes you a little high – are not there and you start to cry. You end up buying the box that you had to open because your nose is running so hard and it is an emergency. It is the roughest brand of tissue available.
- Before you put any food in your cart, you don’t think “Is this healthy?” but “Will this shut them up and can they feed it to themselves so that I don’t have to get out of bed?”
- You realize you have not showered yet.
- You realize that there is nowhere to put the food you are buying because your husband went to Costco by himself on Saturday and bought $200 of FRUIT.
- You remember you need to get a lot more toilet paper because of your husband’s purchase.
- You are writing this from jail because you tried to buy 5 bottles of Nyquil.
I’m sick. This is not a good thing. You may think it is not a good thing because when I got up this morning, we had no forks, plates and only two clean spoons and not a single toilet in my house was flushed, but that is a topic for another day when I am in a better mood and not completely resentful of the whole situation.
The reason being sick is bad is that I watch a lot of Masterpiece Theater and BBC and then I decide that I am actually dying of consumption. As I lie in front of the TV or computer trying to decide if I need my blood let or I should take liquid metal, I realize that my life is completely unfair because I do not have a lady’s maid. If I had a lady’s maid, my hair would always look great, my bed would always be made, and my clothes would always be pressed and put away. That wouldn’t really matter to me, though because my lady’s maid would be getting my clothes out for me and helping me button the buttons and fasten the snaps of my jewelry, which would be really nice, by the way because if you can afford a lady’s maid, you can afford some really nice jewelry.
So I have been thinking about how I can get a lady’s maid in modern times. I came up with getting a stylist. They choose clothes and hair and find borrowable jewelry. I could be lying on my consumption deathbed looking really, really good.
At the same time, lady’s maid/stylists don’t seem to be maidens anymore but males who dress and act a lot like Cameron on Modern Family. This is how I see them in my imagination. I have never actually met a stylist. I think they would starve in Montana( both of food and of fashion). But this is all in my imagination so I guess my stylist could be whomever I choose. I think I could adjust to a male stylist but it probably wouldn’t help the romantic side of me to have Cameron buttoning my gown. At the same time, I would probably believe him more when he told me I looked fabulous over a lady’s maid. Why is that?
I guess it doesn’t really matter. I don’t have time to look for either a lady’s maid or a stylist, which I believe my butler or pr specialist should be doing for me, because I need to go do the dishes, the laundry and figure out how my house can smell so bad after just one day in bed.