I made muffins this morning with William, and I was letting him stir even though I hate to because I like to have it done Right and Efficiently and My Way, but I let him do it because it is good practice for him and it is also good practice for ME in controlling my controlling nature. So he was stirring, and of course he accidentally made a perfect lever out of the spoon and there was a geyser of flour, and luckily it was a small geyser and not like the one that went all over both of us and the floor and the cupboards the other day. A little did still get on my face and glasses and shirt, but I cleaned up relatively easily and managed not to say anything crabbier than a gentle “Please be more careful with your stirring” which was the kind of parenting triumph I wish was being observed from behind one-way glass because I think it’s an accomplishment deserving of at least an approving little checkmark in a notebook.
So later I took William to kindergarten, and when I got home I put the twins to bed and finally got a chance to pee in peace, and when I was checking myself out in the mirror afterward I noticed I had flour ringing one nostril. Evidently I was insufficiently thorough with my clean-up. How many of the teachers and other parents think I use drugs now, do you suppose?
I’m sure it didn’t help the picture that I have bloodshot eyes today. Paul is sick, and when Paul is sick I have to use all my inner strength not to kick him out the door. He is such a baby. I was queasy for three months and had a hacking, gagging cough for about a month of it but couldn’t take any good drugs (e.g., flour) and he was all, “Yeah, so you said. Does this mean we’re not going to have sex again tonight?” But he gets a totally normal minor cold and he’s groaning on the recliner, going to bed early, taking huge slugs of Nyquil, picking fights with me about comment sections and then bailing with “I can’t deal with this, I’m too sick,” and saying, “I might not go to work tomorrow so don’t wake me if I’m still here in the morning.” Oh my freakin’ stars, he should feel lucky I was still here in the morning.
As it turned out, he did go to work and he said he slept really well last night. That was news to me, since from my point of view what he did all night was snore deeper and louder until he jerked awake and thrashed into a new position, often elbowing me in the spine as he did—every 1-2 minutes. Tonight I’m keeping the rubber mallet by my side of the bed, just in case the Nyquil needs a little “help” knocking him out again.
I slept poorly, not only because of the thrashing and snorting, but also because Paul had turned the heat up 2 degrees warmer than usual (because he’s siiiiiiiiick), and I’ve been liking it about 2 degrees cooler than usual, and so the 4 degree difference was roasting me slowly over open flames. And I would like to know what has happened to all the awesome “Logan Huntzberger is my boyfriend” and “Tom DeLonge’s lips belong to me” dreams I was having before, because now I’m getting mostly dreams about looking for a bathroom, being late for a flight and I haven’t packed yet, and having futile unsatisfying fights with former boyfriends.
In happier pregnancy news, I can now feel baby movements from outside my tum. I was sitting in the recliner reading a book (Twisted by Jeffery Deaver—really good if you like suspenseful, twist-ridden short stories) and I had my hand idly on my tum just to check and I could FEEL the kicks against my hand. I love this stage, but now I’m not going to get anything done because I’m just going to sit in a chair all day trying to feel more of them.
I love it! Flour ring ’round your nose! And don’t forget, you’re a visibly pregnant coke-head.
Oh man, why are men such babies? I mean, in our particular house I would have to say I’m more of the baby, but in general, the vast majority of men I’ve observed are really pathetic when sick. And they use it as a cop out for everything! I guess it’s like the PMS for men- a cold equals no adult responsibility to be civil or reasonable.
I can already see my OCD future when the boy gets older and wants to ‘help’ in the kitchen since I am already trying to control the twitches when he smears whatever he’s eating all over his face, the high chair, his pant leg. Maybe if I have another couple before then it will just break me and I can relax and not care?
As far as sick men go–we did this at my house about 2 weeks ago. You would have thought he was dying the way that my husband was carrying on. My favorite (ha) was when he tried to convince me (unsucessfully I might add) that he needed to stretch out onto more of my side of the bed than he usually does because he was *weak pitiful cough cough* sick. Whatever buddy. How come when I’m sick I don’t just get a free pass to lie on the couch and moan pitifully?
how true, adorable husbands need sooo much attention while they heal…where’s OUR at home health care?
P.S. don’t forget to to “Swistle’ while you work
The flour thing cracked me up, and it’s even more spectacular with the visibly-pregnant state.
It reminded me, however, of something my husband did to his sister a few years ago when she was living with us. She had a necklace that had a little silver vial for a pendant. I’m not sure why she even had it, because we used to joke that it was quite obviously a little coke stash holder. Anyway, one day, my husband was being a smartass (one day?), and it was lying around the house. He scooped up some flour into it, shut it back up, dusted off the outside, and put it back looking exactly the same.
A week or so after that, his sister wore the necklace to her first day of training for a new job. As she sat there fiddling with the necklace, it popped open, and white powder spilled out on the table in front of her. Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice, or at least no one said anything to her, but she was mortified. She knew exactly who was to blame, though.
I’m sure she got him back somehow, but I don’t remember the specifics. They are constantly doing everything they can to drive each other insane–they’re like a couple of 12-year olds.
Kathryn- OH HE DID NOT!! Oh, what a prank! If she’s still at that job now, she should ask the people who were there if they DID notice!
Unfortunately, he did. She’s no longer at that job–thankfully, it was just a college summer job. I think even he felt a bit bad about the outcome, though. He said he figured she’d open it while putting it on or something.