It's like Tuesdays with Morrie without all the wisdom
Archive for April, 2008
Sizzle.
5April 30, 2008
Liberty still has a fever. She usually lingers quite a while, but she hasn’t had this kind of episode in over 2 years. There was a time when every little cold sent her into the hospital with bacterial pneumonia. Mucous settles in her lungs like carnies in a public park during state fair time. And even when the hospitalizations stopped, there was always, always the high, long fever and the nebulizer. And the cough. Holy shit, the cough. On a normal day, if Liberty so much as clears her throat in the grocery store, old women will come from far and wide to diagnose her with croup and shame me for bringing her out into daylight. Or at least give me a dirty look. But when she has a little mucous to contend with? She sounds like a werewolf choking on a femur. You know, kind of barky in a supernatural, murderous way.
Everybody else is all better and I was hoping Liberty would be better by today so we could go to the homeschool park day tomorrow, but it’s not looking good. If I accidentally stab myself in the eye with a citrus peeler, don’t be surprised.
Plays to Win
6April 28, 2008
And gets very giddy when she’s about to lay a Draw Four on your sorry ass. I know you can’t hear it, but she’s giggling like one of those viral video giggling baby things. This child is never happier than when she’s causing an opponent emotional pain during a heated game of Uno. Even if she doesn’t win, it’s enough that she made you draw, or skipped you, or reversed it away from you. And then you will hear about it for the rest of the day. “Remember when I skipped you? That was a good play! You couldn’t even go!” And when the tables turn, and you think you’re getting one up on her by giving her a Draw Two, she says, “OK, but you have to smell my feet!” She will punish you. She will punish you so hard.
Lena and Liberty and Bryan are all sick sickies today. Send patience. And listen to Handlebars by Flobots. Yummy for your brain.
Mmmm…Sooooothing
2April 27, 2008
Is there anything in this world that is more exquisitely satisfying than a post-fever fresh fruit cup? Ice-cold pineapple, blueberries and kiwi cleaned and cut by someone other than me? Heavenly. Organic? No. Local? Definitely not. Exactly what I needed? Hells yeah! I don’t think I’ve experienced euphoria of that level while eating fruit in my entire life, unless the fruit was floating in a vat of chocolate. Or vodka. I fear that nothing in my life will compare to the elation brought on by this lovely, luscious cup o’ fruit. I have peaked. It is over. Adieu.
Sick. Need Peach Hi-C.
6April 25, 2008
I haven’t been this sick in a very long time. I can’t remember the last time I had a fever, but it must have been in the 80s because, darn it, this fever has set off such a hankering for peach Hi-C. A hankering that is destined to go unsatisfied. Unless somebody out there has a bomb shelter set up with all kinds of Hi-C and Spam and whatnot. That would be awesome.
My mom didn’t usually buy Hi-C or anything fun like that when I was growing up, but when I was sick, she would buy me a giant can of my favorite peach drink. That, and a can of Planters cheese balls. Or cheese curls, depending on which texture I was after. I can still remember the smell of those cheese balls when I peeled the foil back. Yum.
I’ve been dreaming about peach Hi-C in a can, opened on 2 sides (to avoid the glugging when it’s poured) with that little thing that used to put triangular holes in the many varied tin cans that held our liquids in the 70s and 80s, and popsicles for my sore, sore throat. I called Bryan at work this morning at about 7:00 and tried to communicate to him with my nearly non-existent voice that I would need him to bring me some popsicles on his way home or else he shouldn’t bother coming home. Only I couldn’t really talk that much, so I didn’t get to threaten him and be all dramatic. So I just used my scary voice to say, “Redrum” over and over and he got the hint. Then I staggered back to bed and dreamed that he couldn’t find any popsicles anywhere because they stopped making them when they stopped making peach Hi-C. After waking up from that nightmare about 23 times, he finally came home with my precious yum yums.
So sad that I’ll be missing the Chair is Art show at Gallery 202 tonight. Bryan will be there with the girls because Liberty worked on a couple of chairs with her art class. Some of our friends also have chairs in the show. It will be fun and I hate to miss the fun. Boo.
I Have Big Underwear
9April 23, 2008
“Really big underwear,” according to Maya. She’s a little household helper and every time she helps with the laundry, she reminds me that my underwear are really big. Ever since she could tell big from little, she has been pointing this out. I’m pretty sure she learned the difference between big and little by comparing my underwear to other household objects, like the oven and stuff. She’s bad for my self-esteem.
I think we’re all recovered from the birthday fun and the visit from my in-laws, which happened over the weekend. Bryan and I kind of forgot that they didn’t know about our plans to live in Columbus foreverandeverandever because we’ve been saying for 3 years that this was just a temporary thing. Oops. We were just chatting away and talking about things like, are we going to renew our lease when it’s up in June or is Bryan going to look for a job in Michigan and rent there or look for a house there and Bryan and I looked at each other and then looked back at them and I said, “Bryan screwed the license plates on the front of the cars,” by way of explanation. I thought it summed everything up perfectly, but I was met with blank stares and a look from my mother-in-law that said, “I’m adding this to the list of reasons that prove that this girl is retarded.” So we had to tell them in real words that we’re staying, which might have been a much harder conversation if they weren’t so good at blocking out things that just don’t go with what they truly truly want to believe. So they blocked it out and kept mentioning stuff about when we move back to Michigan. Denial can be a handy tool, I guess. Let me try:
My underwear aren’t that big.
Sweet. It totally works.
