Where’ve You Been?

Where I have been? Well, thanks for asking. I wish I could say I’ve been island hopping, finishing my novel, working on some secret project that I’ll reveal to you in a few weeks, but the truth is neither as glamorous, lucrative, nor special. I’ve been living, and part of that living has been picking my middle son up with a fever from school, followed by four days of sickness (mine, he was fine after one day), which rolled into strep throat and an ear infection for my oldest, and has hopefully culminated with the virus my daughter now has that has her sounding like she has consumption. Oh, and the spring sport season has started, too.

Good times!

So, rather than bore you with all the mundane details of my life, I will merely bore you with the highlights.

Last Monday, I woke up with a fever and feeling very nauseous (which is either a tricky word to spell or I’m just a sucky speller because even autocorrect is having trouble figuring out what I want to say). I beat back the throw up for a good twelve hours before it finally fought back and kicked my ass. Since I had been in self starvation mode due to the aforementioned nauseous, it only made the actual event worse. I spent the next four days recovering and simultaneously going through caffeine withdrawal, since every time I tried to consume my beloved coffee, my beloved stomach would revolt.

In those few days of living as a Breatharian, of which at the end I did not look like Barbie (go figure), I had all sorts of grand thoughts, sort of like when you were younger, had a bad hangover and vowed never to drink again.  Beside myself with nausea and annoyed that I was sick, once again, I told myself I was done with sugar, done with wine, done with gluten, done with coffee. It was green tea and quinoa from there on out. I was going to start taking my magnesium again, eat more vegetables, and exercise daily.

Fortunately, though, I got better and those thoughts passed.

The running of the idiots (that’s us) has also started again. After a somewhat calm winter of basketball, futsol, and street hockey, which both boys were on the same team, the spring sport season has beat the actual spring time to the punch and is already kicking my butt. My middle son will be playing three sports this spring, yes three, and my oldest will be playing two, and let us not forget Little Lady, who is making her organized sports debut in t-ball this spring. I don’t know how this happened to me. I swore I would never be this person, yet here I am, running from field to field, night after night. My children seem to want to play everything and I seem to say yes. We seem to have a problem.

Second Son started lacrosse. Can I just take a moment to acknowledge what an expensive sport this is? A hundred dollars for a helmet (and that’s either used or at the entry level), a stick that costs even more, and I’m still not factoring in the rest of the pads, seems a bit much for a sport I’m not even sure he’s going to continue next year.

However, Lacrosse seems to be pretty serious in this town. I know nothing about the sport and never even heard of it until I went to college, but from what I have witnessed thus far, it is pretty rough and pretty important (did I say that already?). So, when on a twenty degree night when the wind was blowing, no one even thought of calling practice, as in calling it off. If some of the boys wanted to cry, and by cry I mean sob, well then so be it, because we don’t want to lose sight of the fact of what’s really important. Just for clarification, my son was not one of those aforementioned cry babies.

My second indication of my town’s obsessiveness love¬†of this sport came on Sunday morning in front of a local lacrosse shop. You see, along with my questionable spelling of the word nauseous, would be my questionable reading abilities, in that sometimes, I seem to miss words, like black. Because if I had clearly read that my son needed a black helmet, well, there is no way I would not have conveyed that to my husband, so that my son did not end up with a very expensive white helmet, which he cannot wear as it does not match the uniform. So, while trying to return said white helmet, I was waiting in the car with the remaining troops, because we do not all need to enter any shop unnecessarily, I witnessed a myriad of little girls leaving the shop (where they also run clinics) lacrosse sticks in hand, only to jump into car seats! As in child safety seats!

It was absolutely bizarre, but no sooner was I struck by the absurdity of the scene then did I think, maybe my daughter should be enrolled in some of these classes. What is wrong with me?

And let’s not forget daylight savings time, which I love, even though it is screwing with the morning routine. Almost every morning since changing the clocks, my son comes into my room to say, “Mom, it’s 7:15.”

Yea, the bus comes at 7:37.

Needless to say, we’ve been driving. But, I still love it. I love the extra daylight and I love that my children appear to sleep until at least six, now, and that’s good enough for me.

All this sickness, running around, and loss of an hour has left this organizationally challenged blogger trying to catch up on house work and the never ending laundry, of which I, personally, produce the least of, yet, am the only person to actually do the task.

Today, though, happily, I found myself with a few spare moments and so returned to my love. Hopefully, I won’t be on hiatus so long, the next time.

Happy weekend.

 

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