Sunday, March 18, 2007

Shit Monkeys

It's 11:30pm on Sunday night, and I really should be going to bed, but it's been such a weird, crazy week that I need to just list the weirdness so that it stops swirling around in my head and so that I can sleep.

I should preface this by saying that this was supposed to have been my so-called "Spring Break."  Students are off this week, and many of my friends were off taking fabulous vacations and road trips to sunny, warm, and child-free places.  I had planned to have a day off (no kids, no work), and didn't really get it.  So there is going to be some serious whininess here, and maybe a touch of envy and self-pity, too.  Enjoy.

First, there's the weird thing with this class-action lawsuit.  I still haven't totally wrapped my mind around the fact of it, but mostly I'm just wanting to be good support for Eric.  It doesn't actually change anything in our lives in practical terms, but it's a little like a monkey sitting on a high shelf in your dining room, grinning at you.  In one hand, it holds a fistful of shit.  In the other hand, a fistful of gold.  Will it throw one or the other at you?  Both?  Neither?  It doesn't do any good to predict, but it's still weird to have that smiling monkey sitting up there, anyway.

One of our dearest family members is going a second round with breast cancer.  (The shit monkey winds up...which handful will you get?).  I'd direct you to her amazing blog, but she deleted it (dammit), and she probably wouldn't have wanted a bunch of strangers reading it anyway.  In any case, we are struggling with being so far away from her geographically, and with wanting to be useful, and with not knowing how to do that very well.  So we can only offer our love, which feels pitiful in the face of the decisions she has to make.

Then, there's the fact that we can't seem to have one freaking day in this house where someone isn't dripping green boogers.  On top of the ear infections and bronchitis and sinus la-la-la everyone is having, there are other sucky inconveniences and freak-outs.  Like, you know how Addie is potty trained now?  Well, she's been doing these GIGANTIC poops.  Sorry if this grosses you out, but seriously?  They are enormous.  Eric and I are totally blown away by the heft of these things.  They literally clog the toilet, no kidding.  In fact, she did such a big one yesterday that there was blood in the toilet.  A lot of blood.

Which freaked me out, because for book club a few months back we read a short story about a three-year-old who has cancer, and his parents find out because there is blood in his diaper.  So of course my mind immediately went to that, and I wiggedy-wigged out and called the doctor who assured us it was just a tiny tear caused by the brick-sized poo, and encouraged us to feed Addie more fruit to loosen things up.  She already eats half the exports of Chile, I wanted to say, but whatever.  Thank God spring is here and the produce is getting better.  Hello, grapes.  Work your magic.

Then Nolie's caregiver called tonight to say she's in the hospital with pneumonia.  So now Eric and I have to both miss a crapload of work again this week, and I'm leaving for New York on Wednesday, and can't really spare the time.  I'm grateful we have jobs where we can do this and not get ass-canned, believe me.  But I did not need the added spice, you know?  And now I'm wondering if maybe Nolie doesn't have just bronchitis but also pneumonia?

Family-in-law lore contends that Eric is allergic to bees (there is some blurry story about him being bitten by one as a kid, and having trouble breathing, and being rushed to the e.r., though nobody remembers for sure if this happened, or if it happened to his brother Steve, actually.  I can't get any straight answers from these people.  Memories like sieves, all of them).  Yesterday, he got bit by a wasp and the welt on his arm looked like he'd been hit by a cricket paddle.  He downed three benadryl and then went into a benadryl haze.  You thought Eric was quiet before?  Whoa.  But at least there was no anaphylactic shock.

My brother got hit by a car a few days ago when he was out riding his bicycle.  He's fine, apparently, apart from some scrapes, bruises, and a nasty chipped tooth.  Hit and run.  And my parents neglected to call me, so when I call them today just to check in, they're like, "Oh, by the way, did you hear about the accident?  JB got hit by a car."  Um, no.  Didn't hear about the FREAKING ACCIDENT IN WHICH MY BROTHER WAS HIT BY A CAR.  Fill me in, people.  Use the long distance.

I just realized:  you know what this is?  A list of near-misses.  In fact, this is a list of things I should be grateful for, really, or at least that don't need to be labeled as terrible news yet.  The shit monkey let it fly, but he missed, for the most part.  Yeah, I'm bummed I'm not on a beach in Mexico.  But things could be worse.  And look:

The for sale sign is in our yard. 

I officially joined the unchurch today.

I get to go to New York on Wednesday (eat good food.  sleep in.  sleep in.  sleep in).

Not all bad, right?  Maybe even mostly good?

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