Don’t believe the black plague still exists? Try sending your little one off to elementary school. They’ve got the back plague, purple plague, orange plague, striped plague, polka dotted plague– pretty much every illness you can imagine, your kid will come home with in those glorious 5 years of school, making you feel like you’ve given birth to patient zero of the zombie apocalypse.
My house has gotten bitch-slapped by the booger-bug over the past two weeks. First with Holden, then the husband, then me & Parker got smacked by the snot simultaneously. Two weeks in a row, I’ve had a kid home sick, and while they are very different humans, sick kids are pretty much all the same.
HOW? Well- allow me to enlighten you:
1. They will nag, beg, and whine at you for weirdly specific food, and eat less than half of it, leaving the rest to be thrown away because they’ve infected it and no one else can eat it.
2. Any body part that propels them to do something for themselves does not work. This non working body part rotates throughout the day. Unless you aren’t looking. Everything magically works again when you aren’t looking.
3. They get weird, random bursts of extreme energy and try to convince you that they’re miraculously all better, but you know it’s a trap, and that they’re going to feel even more like garbage in 10 minutes, but you can’t stop them from bouncing off the walls, so… yeah… you’re screwed.
4. Not sick? Give it time.
5. Even if you are sick– we’re talking, head pounding, puke flowing, booger dripping, can hardly function, sick– you are not, and will never be, as sick as they think they are.
6. They might be whiny, annoying, exaggerating, needy, and you might feel like garbage, or you’re exhausted, have no energy– but you’ll still get them everything they need because you love them and hate when they even feel the slightest bit like garbage.
Sound familiar? Well, you’re in for it. May the Force (and the immune system) be with you.
A few nights ago, I found myself in a familiar situation: an hour deep in a conversation about what to watch on Netflix with friends. From cartoons, to movies, to original series- there are always recommendations to throw out, and shows that are amazing we’ve never heard of. It’s an endless treasure trove of viewing pleasure. But this conversation took an unexpected turn. My friend told me that her husband went ahead and watched a series on Netflix she wanted to watch… WITHOUT HER.
CUE LOUD GASPS!
Just as I was about to rip into the man and explain the million ways this offense was one worthy of divorce, I realized something…. I am guilty of the same horrible crime.
That’s right! I’m GUILTY! I watched an entire season– ENTIRE SEASON– of Black Mirror before I was able to control my cheating ways and stop so Thomas could catch up and be able to watch season 2 with me. Do I regret it? Obviously not, since I started The OA without him and got caught remote handed in the middle of episode one. Thinking back, I’ve been guilty of this for a long time.
Back when Netflix sent me to New York City for Orangecon, and they released new episodes of Orange is the New Black early, do you think I waited until I was home to start the season with Thomas? HELL NO I DIDN’T! I have no self control! Apparently that was just the beginning of my cheating Netflix spiral of not-so-shame. Because I still don’t feel bad. Netflix is the itch I must scratch. And the apple does not fall far from the tree, because now my kids are pulling this crap on each other.
From sneaking episodes of The Walking Dead before the other wakes up, to popping on Troll Hunters when the other is sleeping.
It’s a sickness. One that cannot be cured. Honestly, cheating with your favorite shows just means you have to watch them again, and… well… I see nothing wrong with that.
Looking for some more recs to cheat with? I got you covered!
ROMANCE IS DEAD! VALENTINE’S DAY IS A SHAM CREATED BY THE CARD COMPANIES TO SCAM MONEY OUT OF PEOPLE! OTHER NEGATIVE COMMENTS ABOUT TODAY IN ALL CAPS!
Valentine’s Day has never been a huge deal to me, but I used to like to be taken out, fed a nice meal, maybe given a little gift. I never got wound up in the hype, but it always did feel weird to be single on what most people consider to be a “romantic holiday”. I guess all those commercials and ads and candy hearts got to me. Or, y’know, just wanting to feel special. Either/or.
Even getting married, snagging the man, making it official, didn’t do much to dull my wants to be treated like a princess…. or something. Again, I don’t know, a day to celebrate love, even if it’s made up, make-believe, intended to scam people out of money, is still kind of nice. Why the hell not, right?
After having kids, though, my desire to be taken out on the town faded into oblivion. I don’t want to blame the kids, I feel no ill will. Really, I feel nothing at all. My desire to be taken out on the town has been outweighed by the feeling that I don’t need to be.
Before anyone gets all up in arms, I’m not coming down on anyone who feels as though, or believes that, they should be spoiled on Valentine’s Day. There’s nothing wrong with that. Nope. It’s your life, your relationship, and your feelings- and all of those things are valid. You do you.
For me, though, it’s no longer part of the plan. Not that I’d turn down a gift, or a nice dinner- but the sky will not fall if it doesn’t happen. I will not be mad if it’s not planned for me. Hell, I’d rather it NOT be. I’ve been married 10 years this month. Is the honeymoon over? Duh. Is the romance DEAD? I don’t know if I’d go that far– it has just changed over the years. Morphed into something that no longer resembles hearts filled with chocolates and bouquets of flowers.
This morning I woke up with a nasty pain in my back, my kid was home sick from school, and going out sounded like the LAST thing I want to do tonight. We might get a fancy meal… and by fancy, I mean takeout tacos. And only because holidays give us excuses not to cook and why NOT take advantage. We might see a movie… sitting on the couch with the kids, scolding them to stop dropping popcorn between the couch cushions. We might do something romantic after the kids are in bed, and by romantic, I mean clear off the DVR and play videogames. But celebrate? Eh….It’s not being wined and dined, or being lavished with gifts and flowers, but it’s life. The life we created together. It ain’t pretty, but it’s ours, and that’s kind of grossly romantic in itself, isn’t it?
Since I’ve had kids, my reaction to cancelled plans can usually be summed up in one word. An exclamation, really. A feeling. an overabundance of joy summed up by 3 letters:
There was really no greater feeling than knowing you don’t have to prepare not only yourself, but your kids, to go out for some things you really didn’t want to do all that much anyway. People say the older you get, the more excited you get about cancelled plans, but I don’t think it’s age. I think it’s preferring lazing about rather than trying to corral your insane children in public. It’s not having to get them ready, think about what they need, what you need, what everyone needs. Being on time. Worrying about someone having to potty. Trying to FIND a potty. Worrying about snacks and drinks and blah blah fucking blah, the bajillion things you worry about as a parent when you’re not in the comfort of your own home. You’d just rather stay in the comfort of your own home, am I right?
No having to put on pants, or makeup, or brush your hair. No having to pick out clothes for the kids or keeping them from getting food or boogers on them. No having to have patience because there are witnesses present. You can just be you. And not even the best version of you. The grossest, laziest version of you. You can pick your nose, couch surf, eat an entire bag of chips. None of these things you could do if other people were around.
Well, okay, technically that’s not true. You COULD do all of these things, but they’re likely to get you some weird looks and possibly a few phone calls.
It’s not that I hate leaving the house. I’m not a hermit, or agoraphobic. I do things all the time. I enjoy things outside the 4 walls of my house. Hell, my house can drive me crazy from time to time, but more often than not, I just prefer the relaxation in knowing that I don’t have to do anything. That I have no obligations other than to keep everyone in this house alive. SO, when I get that phone call telling me I can do exactly what I like to do most days- which is nothing- I breathe a sigh of relief.
OKAY KIDS. YOU DON’T HAVE TO PUT PANTS ON!
One less fight to have that day.
I was wrong in my line of thinking that had me believing ALL the best plans were cancelled plans, because this morning, after I’d been waiting weeks to get my hair done, I got a message from my hair stylist informing me she was sick and would need to reschedule my appointment.
Hair appointments are my ME time. My time to get away from life. To just sit and do nothing but gossip and read trashy magazines and NOT listen to my kids bitching about everything. It’s one of the only plans I make I actually look forward to, and when they get cancelled, it’s awful. It’s horrible. I then find myself sitting on the couch vegging out, which any other day I would relish every moment of, feeling angry and sad.
My life can really be summed up in two reactions.
There is no in between.
Does anyone else feel this way??
I’m not the type of mom who believes in participation trophies, or not defining a clear winner. I think kids need to learn to lose because losing is a part of life, and there’s really nothing wrong with it. If anything, it should motivate you to practice more and try harder. There’s always room for improvement, and practice makes progress, therefore, there’s no reason at all to be a “sore loser”. Those are the things I teach in my household.
…aaaaaaaaaaand it seems that my kids missed the memo.
I loved board games before I had kids. I have so damn many of them that they’re overflowing in the front room of my house. I’d love to PLAY all of these games (I’d also love to put them away, but I digress), but every time I’ve tried since exploding children out of my uterus, it’s turned into madness. Screaming, whining, tantruming, sore loser-y madness. MY BELOVED BOARD GAMES!!! HOW COULD YOU?!
when my kids aren’t screaming family game night is a great time, and how can I deny such time spent with family without electronics and other crap? Simple answer: I CAN’T!
Confession: in order to keep family time moderately civil, I’ve started…. throwing games. Yep. I let my kids win from time to time. Don’t you judge me.
LOOK, sometimes, when we’re playing games, and I see the shit starting to go south, and their faces are starting to turn blood red, and I know they’re about to blast me and pretty much shit on the rest of the day because no matter how much I try to tell them losing ain’t no thang, it never sinks in, and it’s the end of the world, and perhaps that means I failed somewhere down the line, and maybe this is the longest run-on sentence in the history of this blog– I DON’T CARE, I THROW THE GAME. Everyone’s happy! I mean, there are equally as many times that I whoop their asses just to prove a point as I let them win, but that’s not the point. The point is that yes, occasionally I LET THEM WIN since they’ve always kinda sucked at games and can’t win on their own.
In my parenting world, it’s all about choosing my battles wisely. Sometimes, it ain’t worth it to teach them the lesson of losing. If that makes me shitty, so be it. But, again, my shitty parenting is not the point.
THE POINT is that I was sitting at the table playing tic-tac-toe with my seven year old, which I usually whoop his ass in (much to my delight and his utter dismay), when he beat me. Not just once, but three times. And not out of luck– the kid schooled me. Moments later, my husband got his ass whooped in a game of squares by our nine year old. And I started to realize, this has been happening more and more lately. We’re winning less and less, and not because we’re throwing the games. Not because we want to avoid tantrums. Not because we JUST WANT THE GAME TO END BECAUSE OMG IT’S TAKING SO FUCKING LONG I MIGHT ACTUALLY DIE AT THE DINING ROOM TABLE. But because they’re BETTER than us. Smarter. Sharper.
It’s finally happened. I’m finally to the point of parenthood where it’s truly all downhill from here. First it’s silly games. They’re already better than me at math. Next thing you know, they’ll be having to help me with computers and technology, and it won’t be long before they’re shipping me off to the old folks home because they don’t want to wipe my ass EVEN THOUGH I WIPED THEIRS FOR YEARS, THE FUCKING INGRATES.
I’m gonna need them to start throwing games so that I win to keep me from losing my shit.
Parenthood has officially come full circle.
6 Things Moms of All Sick Kids Know goo.gl/fb/D74HPA
Some parents use school holidays for family time. I toss the tablet at my kids in hopes they'll dislodge themselves from my butt for 5 mins
If by "any plans tonight" you mean "are you gonna take off your pants & plant your ass on the couch all night?" then yes, I have plans.
Put this in a pamphlet, print it out & hand it out to young girls everywhere. THESE ARE THE THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW! holdinholden.com/2013/12/a-pr…
@MrsBHise thank you! I'm loving it (even though it's super sore). One more session to go!