I'm sick, y'all. I thought it was dust. My nose started twitching while they were moving stuff in last Thursday, and then the girls got all snotty/boogery and I figured it was either the same dust or they were coincidentally teething at the same time (cuz they are), but no. It's the yuck, y'all. It was just a twitch until day before yesterday. Sam and I had both had a bad day and so had a drink while hanging in the kitchen. Well, one drink turned into, like, FIVE and I got all hammered and whatnot. I should have KNOWN better, because the next day--yesterday--it all caught up with me. It's not the season to drink, kiddies. Those pesky germs wait until you're all inebriated (sp??) to attack--like a band of robbers sneaking in while you're sleeping hard. I wasn't a bit hungover because it was an early evening drink and the buzz was gone by bedtime, but yesterday, I felt like someone had their hand clenched around my throat all day... and YAY, it was a Wednesday, right? So, I had to deal with all three kids most of the day, feeling all achey and whatnot.
And then it got worse. By the time I went to bed last night, it was a full-fledged attack of the crap. I woke up in the middle of the night having had zombie dreams (!!!)... My throat was so closed that when I tried to whisper to Sam to go make a bottle (yep, that's right... Lolo STILL doesn't "sleep through the night" *eye roll*...she's more and more like Ryan EVERY day, eh?), I nearly threw up because I had gagged on my own throat. Then, when I tried innocently to clear my throat, a cat flew out of there and into my mouth. I had to run to the bathroom to dispose of the chunk (sorry...). I am not on a strict diet of vitamin C, generic Tylenol and potato-leek soup I made day before yesterday.
Okay, now to the good stuff (hoping that Lolo will nap long enough for me to get it all out).
Because I had a shit day on Monday--or Pesto Day as I'll always remember it--because that thingy my sister-in-law leant me did NOT cut up the pine nuts, the garlic or the basil very well; because I ended up using my hand chopper to do most of the work; because I made regular pesto, mint pesto and eggplant/zucchini/green pepper/basil pesto, all nearly by hand, and BECAUSE this was established to be SAM'S FAULT (only by a technicality), he came home from work/picking up Ryan with a huge box. Inside was a 150 Euro machine that does EVERYTHING. In fact, I think I'm going to hire it to do the laundry. It has a chopper/food processor thingy on one end that also doubles as a default mixer. There are like a kazillion gadgets on it. The other end, which is normally closed behind a pretty little smooth white door, can open and accomodate a blender vase that comes with it. I can chop, mix and blend all at the same damn time, y'all. The only thing that's missing? The smell of burnt plastic!!! YAY!!! If I hadn't been so tired from hand-making pesto, that boy would have gotten some romance.
So, then Tuesday, Sam calls me to tell me he had to go to the Prefacture to dispute his driver's license stuff. Here's the back story--skim ahead if you don't care... When we got our drivers' licenses in Pennsylvania, they took our OLD driver's licenses. It's the law. Later, after living in TX and then moving to NC, we decided to move back here and figured that we'd just be able to get his license back (cuz we don't CARE about mine since I'll NEVER drive over here). He got a letter saying that while France has an agreement with Pennsylvania, they don't have one with North Carolina and that he'd have to repeat driving school. Okay, if this was a weekend spent taking a test and a fifteen dollar check, that would be one thing. But it involves actually GOING TO DRIVING SCHOOL and racking up practice hours and paying out the wazooo. That doesn't seem fair since he HAS a VALID driver's license on record.
So, he goes to the Prefacture (it's like a city hall thingy.. not THE city hall, but sorta like a branch or something--they take care of administrative stuff like licenses and permits) and tells the lady behind the glass his situation. She smiles and flirts and bats her eyes as the French do; she looks up his name and says, "Yep, here it is right here. Your license is valid"; and she goes back to ask her boss what to do. But, when she comes back, she says in a voice of ice, "Um, you already received a letter in the mail telling you what to do." I don't know WHAT her boss told her, but the flirting was over. Sam says, "Yes, but I don't understand why I need to repeat driver's school when I have a valid license."
"Sir, we can not do an exchange because you have a North Carolina license."
"Okay, but my French license was taken from me in Pennsylvania."
She purses her lips and says, "Well, I guess you'll have to return to Pennsylvania and get it back."
Sam takes a deep breath so he won't reach through the little hole in the glass and throttle her, JUST IN TIME to hear her colleague at the OTHER little hole in the glass say, "What a waste of time." Both girls laugh.
Sam does his impersonation of Mount St. Helens. I hope you never have to see it. It's disturbing and scary and off-putting. Sam is such a mellow, passive guy. But when he gets really pissed off, he becomes a lava-spewing force of nature. It was such a spectacle that he couldn't even remember everything he said, and that is why I can't tell you. It had something to do with asking them if they thought it was funny, to which they clammed up and said no. And he said that THEY were wasting HIS time and that he was about to become REALLY American and write down their names.
In the end, he walked out. He said that saying anything else would have only made it worse because now he's going to apply for a DUPLICATE instead of an EXCHANGE. For the record, had he gone to any police station and said that the license was lost or stolen, they would have made him a duplicate without further questions asked. But he went to the Prefacture because he didn't want to lie.
So, then, later, he calls me and tells me that he just went to the post office to do something and when he came out a dude fell in front of him. And when I say "fell" I mean, CRUNCH. Sam said he didn't even put his hands out to break his own fall. He said that there was blood everywhere and that the guy might have broken his nose. I asked him what he did and he said that after he helped the guy up and asked him if he was alright (and should Sam call someone) the guy said, don't worry, I'm fine and so Sam went on his way. I yelled at him to go back. "But he was drunk!" Sam said. "I don't care if he had a needle sticking out of his arm, you need to go back there and check on that dude." Sam said he wasn't sure if the guy was homeless or not. "Doesn't matter," I said. "Go back and help him. Give him some metro tickets or buy him a sandwich or something to soak up the booze. You can't just leave the guy there like that." So, Sam high-tailed it back to the post office and the guy was still sitting there. But Sam is shy. So, even though he asked if the guy needed a cup of coffee or a sandwich or something, Sam won't insist. And the guy didn't take him up on it. Sam helped him to his feet and the guy walked away. Sam said that he didn't seem homeless because he was clean and well-dressed. DUDE!!! That's some bender, yo!
That's why we had our little drink in the kitchen... The day had been a long one.
Then, yesterday, Ryan was home and it was like all the stars and planets aligned to make my universe go through some strange chaotic worm hole or something. It started with Lolo sneezing about a POUND of snot on me. It stuck to my shirt, her hair, her eyelids, MY hair, MY eye lashes. EVERYWHERE!!! Then, though I've told Sam a kazillion times not to put Lolo in the dipe covers that velcro unless she has a onesie on, he did anyway and I walked into the toy room to find that Lolo's footie pajamas had become a pocket of poo. Just one big poo bundle. *eye roll* I didn't even bother putting her on the changing table, I just stuck her in the tub and hosed her down. There was poo everywhere. Then, as soon as I get her changed, I see a little poo nugget on the floor. Now, LILY'S dropping nuggets cuz her dipe has come loose, too. I have to have Ryan go with me on poo patrol to make sure there aren't any more pellets on the floor for the baby to snack on.
Then, in the middle of what is her usual nap, Lolo wakes up and I guess was screaming but since the baby monitor was turned down, I didn't hear it and so by the time I found her, she had thrown up. So, by that time, I had snot and poo on my shirt and added vomit to the mix.
Also, though Ryan and I had been working ALL MORNING LONG on writing his name, he makes his letters backwards. While I reward effort with stars, I don't him that excellent work would earn him a brownie-making session in the kitchen. Well, he just got tired of it and I got impatient (we should have just worked on "y"s instead of the whole name cuz his "R"s look REALLY good since last Wednesday... I just didn't want it to take four whole weeks for him to get to his whole name), so we argued (yeah, okay, I was sick... and tired... and ARGUING with a nearly-five-year old... so?).
By the time Sam came home for lunch, I begged him to get me a counsellor. I reminded him that I hadn't been out of the apartment alone in weeks and weeks and weeks and that I hadn't been out of the apartment PERIOD since Sunday. He said, "Why don't you load up the kids and go to the park." Well, frankly because I had been wearing the same clothes for FOUR days and looked and felt (and smelled) like SHIT (and vomit and snot).
Because Ryan and Lily took good naps (though I had to put Lolo in my AWESOME BUCKLE TAI FROM TWOMOMMASDESIGNS.COM on my back and carry her around the kitchen while I made last night's bread and packaged the huge ton of soup I had made the previous day... she finally slept, but DUDE has she gotten heavy), I was able to have some peace and quiet. I didn't get a WHOLE LOT done because I had to move so slowly, but I did, at least, have a little time to myself... well, sorta.
When Sam came home, he had a 10-kilo bag of baking soda in his hands. "What the hell? Where did you find that?"
"Oooooooh, did they have a food thermometer?" My yogurt attempt ended, again, in slime and I've about given up wasting milk on it... But then, Sam checked the oven and found out that it runs 10 degrees C lower than it says on the display. GREAT!!! *eye roll* I've been killing the yogurt!!! I should have stuck with the cooler method!
"No, but they did have this."
I opened the bag to find a huge 40 Euro chef's knife and a sharpener!!!! Seriously, this guy is really wanting some romance. I was ecstatic. I danced around the kitchen--yes, with my new knife--and the kids rejoiced because they thought they truly had, finally, succeeded at driving me crazy.
We had yummy soup and bread for dinner! I haven't used the knife yet, but I'm gonna!!! It's gonna be SO great!!!
Today, Sam let me sleep in. Sorta. I had to yell at them to shut the damn door and to stop yelling and laughing right outside it because Lolo and I were snuggling and napping. THEN, he let me TAKE A BATH!!! So, while I'm not feeling GREAT or anything, I'm definitely better for having had a nap and bath. And Lolo has been good about napping today.
Don't laugh or boo or hiss, but I haven't printed out my book. I have this weird supterstition about printing it out before my office is straightened up. That's tonight's project. Hold me to it.
I still haven't received the certificate from the doc saying I can do the half. I was going to do six miles yesterday to sort of train, but I didn't and now I'm all sick and hurting. I'm probably going to sign up for it and just walk it anyway, IF I'm not dead by then.
I started reading a new parenting book, "Becoming the Parent You Want to Be" and it's closer to my own philosophies than the "Love and Logic" method, so, we'll see.
I haven't written anything in my adoption memoir since last week... But again, the whole messy office thing...
I started reading this AWESOME book called, ironically, "The Bread Book" by Laurel Robertson... It's SOOOOOO good! SO good!!!! SO SO SO...
Okay, Lolo's crying and we gotta go pick up sister from school... I'll tell you about all THAT later. I would have mentioned it sooner, but I didn't want to jinx it. The preview is that Lily started school this week... and she seems to like it.
Be good y'all.
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