It's Friday, and I should be cleaning.
I should be cleaning, except it's Friday.
See the quandary? Who wants to clean when it's basically the weekend?
My in-laws will be arriving tomorrow to celebrate their son's birthday. Within the next twenty-four hours I have to figure out how to make a gluten-free cake. I'm thinking a health food store, a box with some mix in it, and a cake pan. There you have it: my creativity shining through. Close your eyes, for it is brilliant.
All the energy has been sapped out of me with Gutsy's most recent illness. I'm emotionally spent. He, on the other hand, is doing fantastically well today with all those evil antibiotics coursing through his veins. He's taking it easy, but is laughing with his little brother and even being somewhat argumentative with me; a true sign that his health is picking up.
My mother, The Madre, gave me a little lesson on what to do with children who have bad lungs. She said I will need to keep him home from school as soon as he starts showing signs of illness, so that he doesn't get worn out and get pneumonia.
Like, keep him home on purpose? When he's not seriously ill? Really? And not lose my mind?
She also suggested that Spawnling and I might not want to attend playgroup anymore for fear of exposing Gutsy's wussy lungs to anklebiter ailments and the like.
But... but... Hang on, let me stomp my feet a little for good measure... I like playgroup! I really do! And so does Spawnling. It's the center of our social life right now, as sad as that sounds.
And yet, I also like my child to be healthy, so this puts me in a bit of a position, doesn't it? If Spawnling catches a vicious virus from the depths of the communal car container and brings it home to offer as a sacrifice to the demons in Gutsy's lungs, that would be problematic.
On the other hand, if Spawnling and I avoid playgroup we would probably become social outcasts who spend our days at home crying, leading to full-out depression, which might make me clean less and feed everyone Kraft Dinner and tofu dogs every night, decreasing Gutsy's health and making him more prone to infection anyway.
See the issue here?
There has to be a balance somewhere; something that will help Spawnling and I still have a life while also protecting Gutsy. With that in mind, I have come up with a few reasonable options:
I really missed my calling as a world leader.
I should be cleaning, except it's Friday.
See the quandary? Who wants to clean when it's basically the weekend?
My in-laws will be arriving tomorrow to celebrate their son's birthday. Within the next twenty-four hours I have to figure out how to make a gluten-free cake. I'm thinking a health food store, a box with some mix in it, and a cake pan. There you have it: my creativity shining through. Close your eyes, for it is brilliant.
All the energy has been sapped out of me with Gutsy's most recent illness. I'm emotionally spent. He, on the other hand, is doing fantastically well today with all those evil antibiotics coursing through his veins. He's taking it easy, but is laughing with his little brother and even being somewhat argumentative with me; a true sign that his health is picking up.
My mother, The Madre, gave me a little lesson on what to do with children who have bad lungs. She said I will need to keep him home from school as soon as he starts showing signs of illness, so that he doesn't get worn out and get pneumonia.
Like, keep him home on purpose? When he's not seriously ill? Really? And not lose my mind?
She also suggested that Spawnling and I might not want to attend playgroup anymore for fear of exposing Gutsy's wussy lungs to anklebiter ailments and the like.
But... but... Hang on, let me stomp my feet a little for good measure... I like playgroup! I really do! And so does Spawnling. It's the center of our social life right now, as sad as that sounds.
And yet, I also like my child to be healthy, so this puts me in a bit of a position, doesn't it? If Spawnling catches a vicious virus from the depths of the communal car container and brings it home to offer as a sacrifice to the demons in Gutsy's lungs, that would be problematic.
On the other hand, if Spawnling and I avoid playgroup we would probably become social outcasts who spend our days at home crying, leading to full-out depression, which might make me clean less and feed everyone Kraft Dinner and tofu dogs every night, decreasing Gutsy's health and making him more prone to infection anyway.
See the issue here?
There has to be a balance somewhere; something that will help Spawnling and I still have a life while also protecting Gutsy. With that in mind, I have come up with a few reasonable options:
- Playgroup could be held in a clean room from now on, complete with air showers, white suits and masks
- We could rent the isolation room at the local children's hospital - the very same one that Gutsy stayed in - so even if he ends up getting pneumonia again he'll have some company on Thursdays, which is very thougthful, if I do say so myself
- Automatic Purell dispensers could be surgically placed into Gutsy's wrists, much like Spiderman's webbing. He could squeeze finger to palm and instantly spray the germs away. Plus, he would technically be a cyborg, and cyborgs don't get sick, do they?
- Maybe Spawnling could wear a Darth Vader-like mask when we go visit his runny-nosed little friends. After a few terrifying minutes they would probably get used to his respirator voice, right?
- Using four spools of plastic wrap, a glue gun and some twine, MacGyver could design a bubble for Gutsy to live in. He could roll around in it like a hamster and run down school bullies. Think of the possibilities...
I really missed my calling as a world leader.