If you need me…I’ll be in the padded room

I decided this morning that nothing was worse than being stuck in the house with two sick kids for two days.  Actually…there is.  Being stuck in the house with one very sick, very dramatic kid and one no longer sick and bouncing off the wall insane kid.  I can’t take any more Hannah Montana, Charlie and Lola (which must be bad, because I love that show), board games, Play-Doh, or any other time-filler appropriate for the 4-6 age range.  I was actually excited to pile them into the car to go to my office for a few minutes, so I could get some work to do.  And I really chatted it up with the ordinarily annoying cashier at Target, because I was thrilled to have actual face-to-face interaction with an adult.  I got the kids the “Bee Movie” while we were there…I so should’ve convinced them to get Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium or Meet the Robinson’s or anything other than the two hours of torture that is Bee Movie.  I can’t really say what the movie is about, because I was using all of my remaining brain capacity to ignore the whining of Jerry Seinfeld the entire time.  Awful.  Just awful.  But it did buy some time, and before I knew it, bedtime was upon us.  The kiddos were actually being really good, so I decided to allow them to watch “just one more” Hannah Montana episode before bed.  Why? Why do I always do this? Why can I not just take advantage of the happiness in the air and head up for bedtime?  Instead I press my luck, and lose every. single. time.  By the end of the episode (which I think I was actually entertained by…but again…my brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity), Booger was leaping between pieces of furniture, doing one-handed cartwheels over the dog, and speaking in some sort of foreign jibberish.  Dramamama had morphed into a whining bag of germs on the couch, insistent on shoving her boogery fingers up my nose, in my ear, or in my armpit.  When we get upstairs, I serve up the nite-time cold medicine (because they’re sick, not because I want to drug them to sleep…what do you think I am???).  Boog takes his just fine, but Drama begins what turned into a 15 minute battle of wills.  This girl is tough…if you give in once to her, she will never forget, so as much as I really didn’t give a crap about the cold medicine anymore…the little shit sweetheart was gonna take it.  She tried the “I just gotta tell you one more thing” move a few times, during which I learned (in one long, whining run-on rambling) exactly why she just couldn’t take the medicine…

“There isn’t enough room in my throat because I am not a grown up and when grown-ups were kids they ate things like ravioli and I don’t like to eat ravioli cause…well…I’m just a little bit curious about it and I’m feeling a little bit shy about the medicine and I can’t make myself take it because everything inside of my body like my brain and heart and guts is working together and I saw Spongebob’s brain when we went to Ben’s house for a sleepover when you and Daddy went on a date when Daddy was at home and not in Iraq and I just don’t want to take it because I think it tastes minty like big people’s toothpaste and I don’t like minty things, Mommy!”

Did ya follow that? Cause I sure as hell didn’t.  And that’s not a re-creation, either.  She had to pause so often to breathe and suck her boogers back into her nose that it allowed me enough time to play bedroom stenographer and text it to myself word for word.  

Then I get to Boog’s room, where he is writhing around on his bed, doing something that looked like a combination of a tribal/stomp dance and a really bad porn.  He told me the germs were gone, so there was more room for energy now.  Uh…ok.  He wasn’t exactly dramatic like his sister, but good God…he was insane.  Making noises that I can’t identify, twitching like a damn Turret’s kid, and when I finally “tucked him in” (as much as I can given his constant movement) he decided that he just had “too much love” for me.  It’s heartbreaking to tell your kid to stop kissing and hugging you, but seriously…Mama needed her wine. 

Thank God for Denny’s in the morning.  Adult conversation and bacon.  Life will be good.

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3 Responses

  1. I think all that earned you a glass of wine, or two. Hope everyone is feeling better and more rested soon.

    blog hoppin’ – etcetera

  2. I see what you mean about a loooong night! Thanks for hopping over to my place and leaving a comment. I promise, no hidden cameras. 🙂 But, wow, do I know that feeling of sometimes needing to talk to ANY adult who will string together three coherent sentences in a row. I hope today is better.

  3. WOW, sounds like you had quite the night. I wish you would have mentioned something to me BEFORE you bought Bee Movie. It’s HORRIBLE and you know how much I can’t stand Jerry Seinfelds whinning….annoying f’n voice. The kids can watch that up in the playroom or I’ll be finding something to tinker with in the garage, because I don’t think my sanity can take hearing that movie again.

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