Gray is back from San Francisco, only to take ill with the stomach bug as of last night. Poor guy, he's completely miserable. He was home all day on the sofa, and this evening he's lying on the bed looking barely alive. I feel two things:
1) sorry for him
2) very hopeful that I'm not next.
Now, before you judge me for being a self-centered pig... remember that we are expected to drive to El Paso TOMORROW for Thanksgiving. Needless to say, if Gray is still feeling terrible tomorrow, we will postpone. However, we will jump in the car as soon as he is feeling up to it, which means that if I'm going to get sick, I'm going to do it while I'm there.
Probably infecting others in the process, or else just being really miserable in a crowded house that is not my own.
So, there's that to look forward to.
I can only hope that I have paid my dues to the Gods of Barf in the years when Grayson was very small and I got it every time he did... at least once a year ... and my account is balanced this time, so I'll dodge the bullet yet again. However, I'm a little worried that I didn't get the head cold when Gray got it the week before last, then I didn't get the stomach bug when Grayson got it last week... and now I'm expecting to miss it AGAIN? I hope so, but... that's a lot of good luck.
On the other hand, I feel very unstressed and healthy, so maybe I'm at the top of my game, immunity wise. A little yoga probably couldn't hurt.
So, the story is that we don't know if we will be going to El Paso tomorrow or not. Right now it looks doubtful. We may be leaving Thanksgiving morning early, and getting in around 7 p.m.
I don't mind missing the Thanksgiving feast. Thanksgiving has always been more or less a non-holiday for me. I'm just not into a big to-do over food. But I know Eleanor will be disappointed if we're not there for the big feed, and of course it is certainly important for Gray to be at the family symposium the day after. That, at least, should not be a problem.
We'll see...
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Barf
I'm getting an unexpected day off today. Last night after dinner Grayson suddenly started to complain of a stomache ache. Yup, by 9:00 he was throwing up.
It's a miserable combination of irritation, exhaustion and heartbreak to sit up with a barfing kid. When his tummy starts to hurt, he whimpers and whines, which is heartbreaking and irritating at the same time. Then there's the drama and ick of him actually throwing up, then the clean-up -- fresh trash bags, clean rag to wipe his face, etc. And then just enough of a lull in-between barfs that I start to fall asleep, only to be irritated awake by another round of whimpering.
The worst of it, I think, is that there is just nothing I can do to make him feel any better. A tummy bug just has to be endured, and kids get it at least once a year. In the past couple of years I have finally built up enough immunity to manage NOT to get it myself about 2/3 of the time, but it's still a crap-shoot. I figure if I'm still healthy this time tomorrow, I've dodged the bullet.
Meanwhile, I'm washing everything the kid has touched in hot water, including everything on the bed, towells, pajamas, and himself. Changed his toothbrush, everything.
He's feeling better... playing his Nintendo DS and watching Blues Clues in his PJs. I'm hoping to coax him into a nap later this afternoon.
Tomorrow is a holiday... Oklahoma Statehood Day. Hoooeee. I'll be giving the big festivities a miss. Grayson will be back in school, Gray will be home, and we'll be lounging around doing nothing for a day. Now that's what I call a holiday.
It's a miserable combination of irritation, exhaustion and heartbreak to sit up with a barfing kid. When his tummy starts to hurt, he whimpers and whines, which is heartbreaking and irritating at the same time. Then there's the drama and ick of him actually throwing up, then the clean-up -- fresh trash bags, clean rag to wipe his face, etc. And then just enough of a lull in-between barfs that I start to fall asleep, only to be irritated awake by another round of whimpering.
The worst of it, I think, is that there is just nothing I can do to make him feel any better. A tummy bug just has to be endured, and kids get it at least once a year. In the past couple of years I have finally built up enough immunity to manage NOT to get it myself about 2/3 of the time, but it's still a crap-shoot. I figure if I'm still healthy this time tomorrow, I've dodged the bullet.
Meanwhile, I'm washing everything the kid has touched in hot water, including everything on the bed, towells, pajamas, and himself. Changed his toothbrush, everything.
He's feeling better... playing his Nintendo DS and watching Blues Clues in his PJs. I'm hoping to coax him into a nap later this afternoon.
Tomorrow is a holiday... Oklahoma Statehood Day. Hoooeee. I'll be giving the big festivities a miss. Grayson will be back in school, Gray will be home, and we'll be lounging around doing nothing for a day. Now that's what I call a holiday.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
I find, to my surprsie, that I am a mentor
I'm up at 5:30 in the morning. This is, to say the least, unusual. But I was dreaming that I was back at the Arts Institute, checking kids in for the first day of camp. I was the only one there, and things weren't properly set up yet for registration, so I was scrambling. The dream was ridiculously detailed and just went on and on. So when I woke up at 5, I was reluctant to go back to sleep for fear of going back to it. As if the real life registration days at Quartz Mountain weren't bad enough! I have to dream about them ten years later?
I think I'm having work dreams out of sympathy for my assistant. She graduates in December, and today we got word that she has a job interview at the art museum. They are looking for a full-time, one-woman PR person, and asked me for a recommendation for her, which of course I gave in glowing terms. So they called for an interview. She's nervous as a cat, of course, and I guess I'm nervous on her behalf... remembering my first "real" job at the Arts Institute, lo these many many years ago. Fifteen years ago, in fact.
Krysten started out as a journalism major, and I guess I've gradually turned her into a PR person... and a museum PR person to boot. It's a funny feeling to realize that your influence has changed the course of someone's life. Whatever else happens to her over the years, I'll always be there as the person that got her started down this particular path, wherever it may lead over time. I'm her Mary Gordon, in a way. Though I don't hold a candle to the unflappable and inestimable Mary Gordon Taft.
I am pleased to be a positive influence. But it makes me feel old, as well. No, it doesn't make me feel old. It makes me realize my age. I am guessing that I'll spend the rest of my life realizing, from time to time, and always with astonishment... my age. There are so many perks to being forty-one, and so much downside to being 20-something. You'd think it would not be so disconcerting. But it is, or sometimes is. Sometimes I feel Grown Up and Wise. But mostly I feel grown up and Surprised. Dear god, I'm an adult. Surely there must be some mistake.
Wasn't I supposed to have accomplished something truly astonishing by now?
Speaking of which, this is National Novel Writers Month, and I've not turned out a word. I had good intentions, but the day-to-day does have a way of mowing down good intentions.
Ah well...
This week I will work with Krysten to get her ready for her interview... think up some test questions for her, give her some tips. Hopefully all without seeming too know-it-all. I want her to get that job. It will be, in some small way, a measure of my own success if she does.
And speaking of success... for two whole days now I have managed to single-handedly get my child to school on time. (if only just) I'm single-parenting this week while Gray is at "ORACLE WORLD" in San Francisco. I'm a bit lonely, though having some quality time with Grayson. Oddly enough, I think Gray and I probably have better conversations this way than we do in real life. We talk each evening on the phone and, without the distractions and tedium of "what's for dinner? And "how was your day?" and homework and housekeeping, we have a little clear space to actually talk. It's amazing what a conversational no-man's-land marriage can be. It's not that we don't have anything to say to each other, we just don't have anything to say that hasn't already been said, or can be largely inferred. Same old shit, in short. At least this week we're both having new experiences to share.
The great unspoken secret of marriage and children.... it's BORING. You have to really make an effort to keep from digging yourself a trench of daily routines. Well, no, you dig that trench no matter how hard you try, but you have to make an effort to pop your head up over the rim once in a while and look around.
Anyway, I'm having to get up at a reasonable hour, hustle Grayson out of bed, through breakfast, into clothes, all while taking a shower and dressing myself (forget feeding myself, there's no way I'm getting that done, too!), rounding up books, backpack, shoes, homework (thank god I don't have to pack a lunch this year!)... dogs out, teeth brushed, doors locked, trash, lights, keys and out the door to get him to school by 8. Okay, 8:03. But we've managed. It's been an education in and of itself, but we've managed.
Friday we're off... well, Gray and I are. Grayson still goes to school. The governor declared a state holiday for the centennial on Friday (bless his heart), so we are experiencing the rare luxury of a day off work when Grayson is still in school. I feel a little guilty for not taking him out to go to the centennial festivities, but not THAT guilty.
Can I just go on record as saying THANK GOD the Oklahoma centennial is nearly done? I'm a bit sick of it. Time to get on with the next hundred years. Oh, I don't mean to be a curmudgeon, but a year is a long ass party!
I think I'm having work dreams out of sympathy for my assistant. She graduates in December, and today we got word that she has a job interview at the art museum. They are looking for a full-time, one-woman PR person, and asked me for a recommendation for her, which of course I gave in glowing terms. So they called for an interview. She's nervous as a cat, of course, and I guess I'm nervous on her behalf... remembering my first "real" job at the Arts Institute, lo these many many years ago. Fifteen years ago, in fact.
Krysten started out as a journalism major, and I guess I've gradually turned her into a PR person... and a museum PR person to boot. It's a funny feeling to realize that your influence has changed the course of someone's life. Whatever else happens to her over the years, I'll always be there as the person that got her started down this particular path, wherever it may lead over time. I'm her Mary Gordon, in a way. Though I don't hold a candle to the unflappable and inestimable Mary Gordon Taft.
I am pleased to be a positive influence. But it makes me feel old, as well. No, it doesn't make me feel old. It makes me realize my age. I am guessing that I'll spend the rest of my life realizing, from time to time, and always with astonishment... my age. There are so many perks to being forty-one, and so much downside to being 20-something. You'd think it would not be so disconcerting. But it is, or sometimes is. Sometimes I feel Grown Up and Wise. But mostly I feel grown up and Surprised. Dear god, I'm an adult. Surely there must be some mistake.
Wasn't I supposed to have accomplished something truly astonishing by now?
Speaking of which, this is National Novel Writers Month, and I've not turned out a word. I had good intentions, but the day-to-day does have a way of mowing down good intentions.
Ah well...
This week I will work with Krysten to get her ready for her interview... think up some test questions for her, give her some tips. Hopefully all without seeming too know-it-all. I want her to get that job. It will be, in some small way, a measure of my own success if she does.
And speaking of success... for two whole days now I have managed to single-handedly get my child to school on time. (if only just) I'm single-parenting this week while Gray is at "ORACLE WORLD" in San Francisco. I'm a bit lonely, though having some quality time with Grayson. Oddly enough, I think Gray and I probably have better conversations this way than we do in real life. We talk each evening on the phone and, without the distractions and tedium of "what's for dinner? And "how was your day?" and homework and housekeeping, we have a little clear space to actually talk. It's amazing what a conversational no-man's-land marriage can be. It's not that we don't have anything to say to each other, we just don't have anything to say that hasn't already been said, or can be largely inferred. Same old shit, in short. At least this week we're both having new experiences to share.
The great unspoken secret of marriage and children.... it's BORING. You have to really make an effort to keep from digging yourself a trench of daily routines. Well, no, you dig that trench no matter how hard you try, but you have to make an effort to pop your head up over the rim once in a while and look around.
Anyway, I'm having to get up at a reasonable hour, hustle Grayson out of bed, through breakfast, into clothes, all while taking a shower and dressing myself (forget feeding myself, there's no way I'm getting that done, too!), rounding up books, backpack, shoes, homework (thank god I don't have to pack a lunch this year!)... dogs out, teeth brushed, doors locked, trash, lights, keys and out the door to get him to school by 8. Okay, 8:03. But we've managed. It's been an education in and of itself, but we've managed.
Friday we're off... well, Gray and I are. Grayson still goes to school. The governor declared a state holiday for the centennial on Friday (bless his heart), so we are experiencing the rare luxury of a day off work when Grayson is still in school. I feel a little guilty for not taking him out to go to the centennial festivities, but not THAT guilty.
Can I just go on record as saying THANK GOD the Oklahoma centennial is nearly done? I'm a bit sick of it. Time to get on with the next hundred years. Oh, I don't mean to be a curmudgeon, but a year is a long ass party!
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