Binkytowne

Meanwhile, Over at The Full Mommy...

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Thankful

For the whump whump whump of little steps in footy pajamas.

For the chorus of mom, mom. mom, mom, mom, even when unrelenting.

For an unexpected cocktail in a grungy bar at lunchtime.

For unspoken apologies accepted.

For turkeys.

Artist In Residence

An orange crayon

New artist in residence

All over the house

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Behind the front door

On the closet door

Closet door- side view

Bedroom door. Title unknown.

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You can't get mad about this right? Isn't this something all kids do? I think it's kind of endearing but certain other people in the house (cough*dad*cough) are not amused.
 
 

The Things You Do

You run from one side of the dining room to the other with your arms back and your head down, a la Superman.

You love love love love love to eat crackers (cra-ka? CRAKA?) and spaghetti.

You try to say words that end with a k sound and pronounce them like some Tibetan who emigrated to Russia and speaks Polish, that is to say, a sound I've never heard and can't reproduce.

You must deconstruct everything. Nothing may stay in it's assigned place. Pots and pans, markers, cars, toys, dirty laundry. It's your mode of operation.

You wrestle with sleep, tossing and turning, smacking your head against the pillows, throwing your weight from here to there. No matter that the bed faces the west, you always turn yourself north to south.

You grab my hair by the fistful just to feel it slide through your fingertips. Sometimes you bring it across your face, just below your nose. I don't know why, but it soothes you.

You think every animal goes "mooooo".

You still have two bottles a day, even though I probably should have stopped that by now.

You adore your brother and dogs and you give wet sloppy smooches and high-fives.

You break my heart a little every day with how awesomely cool you are. 

Magic Red Syrup Do Your Thing

When I was pregnant in 2008 I had the flu. I think wrote about it here. I'm too sick and tired to dig through archives to find it, but I remember I wrote about how I watched people on television and woefully thought to myself how badly I wanted to be them, because they did not have the flu. I went to the OB's office and cried and pleaded for some cough syrup stronger than the over the counter mix so I could please get some rest. (I was denied) I was coughing so much and my abdomen muscles were already so strained that I was afraid I would herniate myself. THAT, my friends, was the flu. Not only did I have it and survive, but I did so without a single perscprition drug. Pregnant too! Whoo am I tough.

So as news/hysteria/hype circled about H1N1 I balked. No vaccinations for us. Why? It's the flu. I have HAD the flu. I kept going back to 2008. THAT was rough. It couldn't possibly be as bad as that.

I'm writing this waiting for the cough medicine to slowly calm my lungs. My husband got it and now he has bronchitis. My youngest had it. I couldn't put him down for two days. My oldest boy has it now. His fever has lasted for five days, longer than any fever he's ever had, longer than I thought one could have a fever.

On day two or three of the illness I thought I am fit, healthy, I'll be over this soon. I haven't been to work in over a week. I can function but I'm not well. I can't wait for this to be over.

I couldn't have gotten a vaccine even if I had wanted one. They haven't been available. If I could have had one I probably wouldn't have. 

Knowing what I know now, I absolutely would. My concerns over a new vaccine are not worth two weeks of my whole family being this sick.  There's nothing left for me to do except pour two teaspoons of nasty medicine down my throat each night and hope I wake up feeling even a teensy bit better than I do right now.