The Last of the Medicated Kind

I am just today feeling even remotely like having my eyes open and not being flat on my back. And that's just because I'm a big girl. Deep down inside, I still want to be curled up in bed for hours on end. Sadly, I haven't had that luxury this whole week. Danyo is such a baby. He's all, "feed me now, hold me too, oh-oh, I think I need my diaper changed too!" Whatever man, it's your reputation, not mine.

I am more than a little shocked that a tiny three letter word could do this to someone as grand as me. Danyo's caught it. I tried really hard to avoid the kids this week. I also tried to not let them get my germs. Nursing Danyo made it almost inevitable. He's a little more like his father when he's sick. I woke up in the night thrashing and moaning from the sweats and the chills and the constant discomfort. I like the world to know of my suffering. Sometimes if J slept through any of my "vocalizing" I'd "accidentally" bump him. Hard. I do not like to suffer alone.

Danyo on the other hand, is a happy middle of the nighter. He was obviously uncomfortable, so he couldn't sleep. I pulled him into our bed and he partied for like 2 and a half hours. I would fall asleep and wake up to his tiny little closed fist rhythmically pounding on my ear. Or kidney. Accompanied by his two new favorite words, "Dyah! Dyah. Dyah..." I'd roll over and make eye contact, his face would light up and he'd change to, "Mumumuh! Muhmuhmuh!" All of this with a fever, snotty nose, and inevitably, body aches. If only we could all be so brave when we have the flu...

So, this morning I took Bo to school. He had in his school bag two framed pictures. One of him with his dad and one of baby Danyo. For show and tell he is supposed to bring "something he loves" to share. He was particularly happy to not be taking a picture of Avee. I go back and forth between being troubled by his attitude toward Avee and figuring it's "normal". Truth be told, I have no idea.

He got out of the van and greets his teacher with, "I know that my bag sho' is heavy today!"

It is that very kind of cuteness that just makes me want to grab him and cover him in kisses and never let him go. I was very mature though. I smiled, gave him a little push to get him out of my van, and drove away. I tell you, motherhood is hard.

So, when I got home, my neighbor was just loading her two kids in the car to take them to school. We've had tons of snow in the last 2 days and her car is sort of stuck and she can't get out. I was just about to step my tired, weary, sickly body inside and I glanced back. I got the pleading look. Before I can stop myself, I ask, "Do you need some help?" Not picking up on the verbal clues of slippers, pajamas, matted hair, bags under my eyes, halitosis (not verbal, but almost tangible), and knocked knees, she answers, "Yes, that would be great." I stand on my steps, completely overwhelmed at the prospect of actually trying to push her little rice grinder out of the snow. So I said, "Hey, let me just take them to school, my car's warm and cleared off---I'll just take them."

Now, these two boys have spent countless hours in my home. Countless.

She says, "Oh that would be so great, thank you so much!" I say, "No problem, just don't ask me to push that car out of the snow." In my head, of course.

Then she says to her boys, "Come on guys, get out of the car, you're going to go to school with...."

There's a long pause that ends abruptly in silence.

She doesn't know my name. At. All.

It made me laugh. Out loud. Fortunately I'm sick so my laugh evolved very quickly into a hacking cough and I could cover up my rudeness.

When I got home I told J the story (he's home sick, did I mention that?). He gave me a courtesy laugh (he's not rude like me, he doesn't get as much joy out of making fun of others as I do) and then asks me, "So, do you know her name?"

He's such a killjoy.