Archive | March, 2013

Dante’s Inferno

19 Mar

I was feeling so smug because I was thinking that we must be doing something right, since Chaos seemed like she was more organized. Not dramatically so, but, you know, we turned off the TV, limited electronics, and it seemed to help.

Turns out what REALLY helped is that Chaos did not have a cold, or tooth pain, or an ear infection.

I know this because she has a cold now, and WOW. I know I spend most of my time on this blog either a) expressing my gratitude that Chaos does not have a cold while simultaneously expressing my angst about the fact that every day without a cold just brings us one day closer to the next cold, or b) complaining that Chaos has a cold and it’s so awful.

It is, though. When Baby Peanut brought home Cold Dante, it was nothing. It was so minor that the Bishop was not even AWARE that Baby had Cold Dante until I said, “I think I’m catching Baby’s cold.” (And it was unavoidable for me, because the baby LITERALLY spit in my face. I mean, he was kidding, we were blowing raspberries at each other, but still, tiny germ-ridden droplets of saliva, scattered all over my face. Yeah.)

Then, in the middle of the night, Chaos woke up howling, and since she usually doesn’t howl in the middle of the night I had a bad feeling about it and sure enough she woke up with Cold Dante and was really grumpy and even though Dante is, essentially, a sniffle, Chaos found it so upsetting that she went all Robespierre on the school and they sent her home.

She was OK for me all afternoon, even with the snot on her face, but bedtime turned into an hour-long howl fest where Chaos was incredibly upset because she wanted to eat before bed but she also refused to eat. Refused. The Bishop and I had to physically HOLD HER DOWN while I sang softly to her and the Bishop fed her like a baby because she was so disorganized she could not manage to access the ability to feed herself. We went into her bedroom to play some organizing games and she let me change her into PJ bottoms but the idea of changing from her school polo shirt into a t-shirt with a kitten caused another howl attack, and finally we just let her sleep in her polo shirt. All of this took forever and the Bishop went to bed because of Dante and I need to do the dishes and go to bed because Chaos will probably be up howling in the middle of the night because of snot on her face.

Have I mentioned lately how much I hate it when Chaos gets sick? Poor Chaos. Poor me.

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Drive Blue Silver

16 Mar

I was going to do more on my “Logic Gun” cartoon, (I shoot you with my logic gun! Bang bang!) but then, you know, I got busy. As you do.

We just had these awful months of December and January, and it left me kind of traumatized. Really, I hate winter. Especially flu season. Especially especially flu season when the flu is some sort of vaccine-resistant super bug which everyone seems to get. And it isn’t over yet, so it’s not like my anxiety abates. I spend all day at work anxious, afraid to leave my desk lest the school or daycare call to tell me that one or both of my kids is terribly sick. I can’t wear clothes without pockets because there is no room for my phone, and what if someone is trying to reach me?

But this is irrational. Kids get sick. Mine spent two months sick with cold after cold after cold, and you’d think having gone through that, I’d be philosophical and say, “Well we got through it last time,” instead of being insane and saying, “If I have to go through that again, I will just DIE.” And of course, I won’t just die, that’s the point, right? My therapist says it’s all about reframing. It’s not that the kids will get sick again and I will just DIE, it’s that I will get through it just fine and then I’ll say, “Whew, I’m glad that’s over!”

Only I think that I won’t say that, because to me, it’s NEVER over.

I do hate winter. Also I hate summer. I actually hate summer MORE, because there is this expectation that you should be outside enjoying the warm weather. I do not enjoy. I am allergic to the sun, and my greatest joy in the summer is being indoors with the air conditioning blasting. Ahhhh.

Basically, I’ve decided that there are two months of the year I like, weather wise. I like April and I like October.

Although last year Hurricane Sandy was in October and that was not OK. So maybe I only like April.

And April is when you have to start mowing the lawn all the time or the landlord calls you up and says, “Mow the lawn.” The Bishop does the mowing around here. I think he doesn’t mind it once he’s out there, but he doesn’t like getting started. And we need a new mower this year. Ours is broken and it doesn’t work. I looked on Craigslist to find a used one but I found the listings confusing if you don’t know anything about lawn mowers. “Powered by rainbows! Not at all heavy! Has an on and off switch! Turns your grass into pure love! Only free for you, Lady Mishegas, because you are so, so special!”

None of them say that. They all say things like, “Gas-powered. Sort of works but needs a new squidider and a tune-up. Come and get it (call first) but you need a big, big truck. $800 OBO.”

In other news, I’m going to have to change Baby Peanut’s name to Toddler Peanut, as he is slowly but surely taking to his feet. He is still very unsure, he does it more for entertainment than transportation, but it’s happening. I thought he would be early, but he’s not at all. Almost 17 months. He calls all transportation “busssss” or “go!”, he calls all food “cookie!” (including my breasts!) and he has us wrapped around his curly little finger and he knows it. I’ll walk into a room and he says, “Mama!” and holds up his arms to be picked up and that’s it. He’s so great. I mean, I know I’m biased but he is. Except this morning he decided that he really NEEDED to hit me over the head with a plastic teapot. And no amount of gently explaining to him that mama doesn’t want to be clocked over the head with a plastic teapot would distract him from his goal. Finally, I took the teapot away, and much crying ensued. So I picked him up and snuggled him and sang him a song about a dog, which I made up, and soon he was content again.

In other, other news, we got a new car. See, the red one, the ’96 that my mom gave me for free! sounded like maybe it needed something in its engine or brakes. Which sucks because I had already put $900 into the sporklonkulator plus ALL NEW TIRES. Total spent repairing the red car, $1,200. And I drove it for 7 months. And then I brought it into the repair shop and they called me up and they said, “Well, it needs work but don’t even bother because it has GIANT RUST HOLES IN THE BOTTOM and is not safe to drive lest the engine fall out the bottom.” Even *I* could understand that. So The Bishop and I talked about it and we agreed that although our budget for car payments is -$620 monthly, we would have to find the money anyway and we bought this sweet, zippy little Mazda 3. It’s small, it’s fast, it has a stereo, and it TALKS TO MY PHONE. Listen, this is probably not new or exciting to you since you’ve probably bought a car since 2004, but I hadn’t, and my new car, which I named “Blue Silver,” (“Is that a Duran Duran themed name?” says the Bishop. “You can’t give it a Duran Duran themed name. It’s my car too.”

“No, honey, it’s because of the color, which is sort of a blueish silver! Honest!”) the car knows my phone. I press a button or two and I say, “Call Bishop Mishegas,” and Blue Silver sings, “Calling… Bishop Mishegas,” and then it calls the Bishop and he answers and says, “STOP CALLING ME FROM YOUR CAR YES, IT’S VERY NEAT, BUT I AM TRYING TO GET SOME WORK DONE.”

See, he said it’s MY car.

That means I can name it “Blue Silver.”

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