Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Come live with me under my bridge. But shut up.

I'm having one of those weeks where I really, really wish I didn't have to talk to anyone ever. I mean, I normally loathe speaking to people who are not my friends and family outside of work. Even during work, I hate to talk to people, but I'm required to do so to get money.

Anyway, for some inexplicable reason it's worse than usual, particularly today. I think it's a matter of having expectations that are just too high. In other words, it's too much to expect that:

1. If I have no meetings, it will stay that way. It's 12:39. I'm on a meeting now, waiting for it to end because I'm really damn hungry and about to stab someone. I was so excited because my 1 o'clock meeting is one that I don't actually have to pay attention to, so I was thiiiiis close to having my soup. And then...someone more important than me schedules a meeting for me and a small group of people that is mandatory and on which I will be obligated to speak. Well, fuckbuckets. I think it's time to invest in an IV and a catheter (and yes, sometimes I don't even have time to pee).

2. My kids will not argue. They seem to reserve arguing for when I super duper don't want to talk. Most people's lives in general are filled with noise, chatter, clatter that you have to tune out just to focus on what you're doing right now. One could argue that I should ignore them, too. But that becomes impossible when I know what's coming. [cue JAWS music] "Moooommy, Ragsy called me crazy!" "I did NOT. I said don't be crazy." "He did it again!" "No I didn't!" and so on until I want to slap someone silly to prevent my children from slapping each other.

3. My husband will not have a midlife crisis or want to talk about "something very concerning," like the fact that surely my son will wind up friendless and failing out of school if he keeps wearing his hat, day in and day out. Seriously, man, chill out. I love you. I love our kids. Their lives will NOT be ruined if they have bad posture - no lecture required. Tickling his back to get him back up straight will do nicely.

4.  The government will not send out new legislation that will require that I completely scrap my current project requirements to develop new ones. I've been working on this for more than a year, dammit. Are you freaking serious?

5. Someone will let me hide, just for a while. Not. Gonna. Happen.

So, now I know what I'm going to do today. I'm going to find a bridge and crawl under there with a novel, maybe my laptop (my personal laptop, not my work laptop), some earplugs and a pillow. And possibly a giant pile of cookies. You can come, too. But keep very, very quiet. I'll be the new troll in the Billy Goats Gruff.


Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Move along - nothing to see here

Seriously, I'm dead boring this week. Which is a good thing. Because I must say, I'm tired of the end-of-year crap, the Mother's Day crap and people being sick. This is one thing about Mother's Day: I love being appreciated. In fact, you could say I very much appreciate it. However, I feel most appreciated when I'm appreciated on my time. In other words, being appreciated at 10 a.m. on a weekday when I have to specifically ask time off from work so I can go be appreciated is kinda contrary to that purpose.

End of year: really, do I have to be there to celebrate my child reaching the end of the school year? I'm happy for them. I'm proud of them for somehow having survived another year in school without getting the snot beaten out of them, destroying their lives forever or otherwise getting into deep donkey doo. However, schools have yet to realize or care that very, very few families can afford anymore to have a single earner. Which means, again, asking for time off work to go to these parties, which the kids enjoy, but you still wind up standing in a corner with the other adults while the kids do their thing and don't really care if you're there or not. Woo hoo.

People being sick: can't do much about it. Still, I've noticed that there seem to be stages in parenting a sick kid.

1. Denial. He's not sick - it's allergies.

2. Dawning horror and guilt. Crap. It is a virus/bacterial infection/other infection! I'm a terrible parent for not realizing he was sick.

3. Action. Take temperatures, make kid comfortable, maybe take kid to the doctor.

4. Relief. The doctor tells me to give him Motrin and make him rest while feeding him juice and soda and popsicles.

5. Annoyance. Kids who have been prevented from moving all day and whose fever has been managed with Motrin then who have been encouraged to drink and/or eat juice, soda and ice pops are not so fun to hang out with. I'd rather be at work.

6. Anticipation. He's almost better. Tomorrow everything will be back to normal. Yay!

7. Relapse. Ugh, the kid is still sick. Seriously??

8. Closure. Finally, everyone is back to work, back to school, sleeping and eating normally and no longer downing sugary drinks and ice pops like they're going out of style.

Then kid #2 (if you have one; if you don't, it's got to be you or your spouse) gets it. Repeat the cycle.

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Because I suck, that's why

My worst fears are realized. I didn't get a call from the school, but when I picked my son up last night, he was unusually lethargic and almost fell asleep in the car on the way to get his sister. So we got home and I took his temperature. 101.5. Meh, not too bad, but bad enough he's staying home, right?

So he woke up this morning and his skin was stinging hot. So I took his temperature. 101.5. Huh. That's not the end of the world. Two hours later, his temperature is almost 104. Well, shiiiat. So we went to the doctor and he happens to have a pretty nasty virus characterized by high fever, coughing, loads of snot, blisters on the roof of his mouth, lethargy and dizziness (from the fever). Oh, and a terrible parent who is in denial.

I wish I'd clapped my ears over his hands when the doctor recommended drinking and eating juice, popsicles and ice cream. Sadly I was too far away. Oh, well. Can't have everything. But you can have ice cream.

Monday, May 4, 2015

Cardinal Sin

Today I committed the cardinal sin of motherhood: sending the potentially sick kid to school. Rags woke up this morning, the day after his birthday (9, for Pete's sake! 9!) feeling a tad on the gross side. Super stopped up, a little oogy in general, but hungry enough to have a bit for breakfast, to feel better after some food and liquid and well enough to choose school over a day spent in bed. Plus, he was taking cupcakes for his birthday, so that was additional incentive.

I'm now I'm waiting. Waiting to hear from the school nurse to tell me he needs to go home. One might argue that I should never have sent him to begin with. And that is possibly true. In fact, it probably is true. That said, have you stayed home with a pissed off kid who's decided (and demonstrated) he's just fine, thankyouverymuch, and doesn't want to spend all day in bed?

Anyway, now that I've committed the cardinal sin, I'm subject to the law of 50/50.

For the uninitiated, the law of 50/50 is also known as the law of It Could Go Either Way. Which means you wait all day to hear from the school nurse and it may or may not happen and you're not quite sure whether to feel like the worst mother in the world (if you get The Call) or a reasonable person making an educated call based on what you know of your kid (if you don't get The Call). Here's why I expect to feel like dirt later:

1. I took the day off. Yes, I'm selfish. I took a whole day off and don't want to be interrupted. Sue me. I have a doctor's appointment I've rescheduled twice due to kid events and would actually like to just get it over with.

2. I need to schedule some home improvements, something that requires a simple call but that I rarely actually have time to do while I'm at work. These home improvements are fairly important: we need our trees trimmed before they fall on the house and Rags needs an actual door to his room (we took the other one off when the frame cracked so hopelessly we couldn't open or close the stinking thing).

3. I would really, really, really like to go for a hike alone and I need new pants that aren't ripped and shoes that aren't falling apart. This is the part that makes The Call most likely. I'm doing something alone for myself with very few time constraints.


So, slap me on the wrist. The law of It Could Go Either Way certainly will.