Yes, I vowed to post more. I vowed to tell my husband about my blog, and to make the time for it and to enjoy it and do it well.
I generally hate making excuses for myself, but this time I’m going to allow it. Know why? Here’s why:
I was in Vancouver the last week of October for work. I love Vancouver, loved having the chance to take the 5 hour flight without kids for once, to stay all alone in a king sized bed with more fluffy pillows than anybody ought to have a right to, and eat sushi on my per diem allowance.
But it was the last week of October, man. Which means that I had to have all the Hallowe’en stuff ready before I left. Which I was so not ready to do, given that I was getting ready to go to the whole other end of this huge great country and all. And then, as soon as I got back, it was all the last minute rushing to get ready for the big event itself, clean up the house, do all the laundry etc etc etc. That part is no biggie, really…its the same crap I do when I’m here.
What I was not ready to do was crank out posters for the Arts and Crafts day that the school council is having tomorrow in order to get our float ready for this year’s Santa Claus parade. This is my first year on the council. In some fit of semi-manic lunacy, I not only joined the council, but agreed to sit on two (TWO!!!) subcommittees, which are chewing up my time and energy the way that I’ve been chewing up mini-mars bars for the past week.
So I churned out the posters, and this evening trudged over to the school, my almost-6-year-old in tow, to set up for tomorrow’s big workshop. Which I can’t attend because it is said almost-6-year-old’s birthday party. Which I still have to decorate for…beach party theme, so decorating is like, kind of important, or else I’ll just have a bunch of kids freezing to death in their favourite summer clothes because we promised the parents that the heat would be cranked up (“heat” and “cranked up” being relative terms).
With all of that, I would still be okay, I think. Even with my failed first attempt at ice cream cone cupcakes, I think I would be hanging in there. I might be up until midnight, and things won’t be nearly as perfect as other, better mothers might make them, but I would be okay.
Except now that same almost-6-year old is lying in my bed with a headache and sore throat, and I’m not only wondering what kind of night she’s going to have (my guess is crappy), but also whether or not she will be well enough to
infect entertain all her little friends tomorrow. At least Dee is at a sleepover tonight so we’ll only have to worry about one of them.
And then? The icing on my falling-apart cupcakes? The sleepover mom just called, telling me that Dee’s cheeks are really red, and is that normal? She got a bit of a mystery rash the day before yesterday: barely noticeable on her chest and tummy. It wasn’t bothering her at all, and we chalked it up to a random childhood illness and went on with our lives. She has no fever, no pain, no itch, no other symptoms except for a red, uniform, non-pimply rash all over her torso…and now her cheeks. Is it scarlet fever? Shingles? Fifths disease? Do I need to rush her to the children’s hospital in the middle of the night, so I can sit there for four hours and then watch some resident shrug his shoulders and tell me that if it isn’t bothering her it’s probably nothing and we should just keep an eye on it?
Neither Doctor Google nor Ontario Telehealth are able to help me and Gee won’t be home for at least another hour. Not that he can help either, but at least I won’t feel quite so utterly alone on this cold, stupid November night.