I am infested with germs again.
I know. I have no idea how it happened either, because I just lived through Infestation ’14 right before Christmas, where I spent nearly six entire days migrating from my sofa to my bed and back again, and existing in a general state of unwellness and nausea. And the thing is, I haven’t even been to any foreign countries with unclean water and bugs the size of my palm, where I could pick up these bully germs, but then I remembered what I do for a living.
(Other than being a professional HGTV-watcher, I mean.)
I teach in an elementary school.
Last week, after pre-kindergarten PE wrapped itself up and everyone was sitting on the floor, changing their shoes, the coughing fits started. And there I stood, right-smack in the middle of a hazy cloud called THIS JUST CAME OUT OF THE LUNGS OF FIFTEEN FOUR-YEAR-OLDS, as my gym suddenly sounded like a bunch of seals watching a televised comedy and barking their appreciation.
Today I’ve been suffering from IT’S IN MY CHEST and also MY HEAD! MY HEAD! MY HEAD HURTS! So clearly I was simply destined to remain in my pajamas all the live-long day, but this is where MOMMY’S SICK is different than DADDY’S SICK. Even though I wanted nothing more than to lie down and have someone drop off a giant bowl of piping-hot, homemade, chicken noodle soup while I coughed pathetically and was propped up on nineteen different pillows, I ended up doing laundry all day.
Because imagine the worst amount of dirty clothes you can think of. That’s right. Think about everyone in the state of Alabama, tossing their wardrobes into laundry baskets. Now double that amount. And add just one more load to the total. And now you know what I was dealing with. There are no sick days available to the Laundry Slackers.
Thankfully, the boy was home from school today for the holiday, so he helped me run defense on Thing 2, and then my own sweet mama came over this afternoon. She took the boys to lunch, and she washed my dishes. I would’ve given her an entire diamond-encrusted, golden crown, had she just thought ahead and brought chicken noodle soup, but I’m still thankful for her. As in… VERY MUCH, YES AND INDEED thankful for her. It’s difficult to lie on the sofa, with your hand over your forehead, like a good Gone With the Wind pose, when there’s an unattended toddler in the house.
I am going to slap a few snapshots up on the blog here, and call it a night…
We have had some ridiculous amounts of snow here in Small Town, USA. I imagine that this is a good thing, if you’re a skier, but my comfort zone is simply sitting on the sofa in front of the lodge’s fireplace, sipping hot chocolate and watching people board the lifts. Forty-six inches of new powder on a weekly basis does nothing for my soul, except make me wish that I lived in a little cottage on a beach in Hawaii. It’s because I’ve never been able to get down a ski slope, in all the years that I attempted it, without cursing in a most unladylike fashion. Hence, my title as LODGE QUEEN.
(Haters gonna hate. I know.)
On Thursday, the heavy machinery came through our cul de sac to plow the snow, and then the bigger machines shot that snow into the backs of dump trucks. Thing 2 was mesmerized. I should have popped some popcorn for him, because he spent the majority of his morning watching the big rigs do their jobs from the safety of our living room.
And? Do you know what career I could NEVER have? That would be BAND INSTRUCTOR. The thought of being surrounded by junior high kids and one hundred trumpets, clarinets and flutes makes me need to just sit down and hang my head between my knees, to catch my breath from all THE DIZZY.
Of course, this is no longer my first band rodeo, what with the boy being a third-year clarinet player now. I’ve learned to take pictures of him all dressed up at home, and then again as he walks onto the stage…
And then we went to the little private school where I teach PE, because the boy’s good friend, Ben (who lives seventy miles down the road in Small Ranching Community), was playing against my school’s junior high basketball team. I was so torn on all the cheering, because all of the boys from our school have been in my PE class and I love them all, but then… BEN! And we love him, too.
So… yes. I cheered wildly for both teams.
And then, Ben’s mama (who is one of my close friends) and I marveled over how we’ve sort of come full circle. It’s because our two oldest boys became great friends at the age of four, when they met in pre-kindergarten.
Here’s the boy and Ben, clear back in the day, when neither one of them was embarrassed to have ketchup from lunch smeared across their faces.
And on Saturday, Ben’s two little brothers and the boy’s little brother all sat together at the basketball game. I’m fairly certain that these three are all destined to be very good friends, too, and I couldn’t possibly be any happier about that. Just YAY! And also DOUBLE YAY! Ben’s mama raises some fine boys, and these two will make especially fantastic, lifelong friends for Thing 2 to have.
There’s Levi (he’ll turn two next month), and Thing 2 (who is two-and-a-half), and Levi (who is three now). Go ahead and say it… they’re every single bit as adorable as the boy and Ben were.
Of course, getting all three of these toddlers to look at my camera at the same time was like coaxing full-grown cats to sit still and smile, so we did the best we could. Those three cheered and cheered for Ben, and they ate their weights in popcorn, too.
And then… LOOK! Thing 2 was adorable on Sunday morning, before church, so I took even more pictures of him…
And then this morning, he made it clear to me that he wouldn’t be wearing “tight pants” any more, because he only likes sweats now. He instructed me to put his “tight pants” into the garbage. It’s almost like living with a three-year-old girl, who insists on wearing only princess dresses…
… except we don’t look that fancy in boring sweats.
I guess I’m about to kiss CUTE BOY CLOTHES goodbye, as my opinionated toddler makes his clothing demands known.
And that, folks, is it for tonight. I’m taking my “THIS COULD BECOME THE MOTHER OF ALL CHEST COLDS” to bed.
Have a great Monday.