Wednesday, February 15, 2006
I think it's too bad that Valentine's Day wasn't on Monday. Monday was a good day. Well. . . to a point. Mark was sick. Sunday we had a conversation about barf. Probably because two years ago on Valentine's Day we were in the hospital with Denver because he had dehydrated himself from barfing so much and the doctors kept telling me stupid things like "give him a teaspoon of gatorade every 15 minutes until he keeps it in for an hour and then give him a tablespoon of gatorade every 15 minutes till he holds that down for an hour" and "barfing every fifteen minutes for an entire 24 hour period is normal for a 1 1/2 year old and he won't get dehydrated."
I really hate doctors. They think that by spending 2.6 minutes with our children looking up their noses and down their throats they know everything there is to know about our children. And I think all of them have this underlying belief that mothers are stupid people who couldn't get a job doing anything else except sitting at home with little kids, changing poopie diapers and wiping away green boogers. And yet, I would say at least 75% of the time I am the one that correctly diagnoses my kids and all I ever get from the doctor is "you'd better hurry on over to the hospital so they can fix your kid before they die cause that would look bad on our record" kind of attitude. But that's another story for another day. What I was saying is that on Sunday Mark and I were talking about barf (since that's the level I'm on nowadays--forget all that chemistry and math I thrived on in college) and I said to Mark something like, "You haven't barfed the whole time we've been married and I've barfed more in the past ten years than I did all through high school and college." And then Monday, Mark barfed. So Monday wasn't a good day for Mark but it was a good day for Valentine's day. We had our cookies and our english muffins and we started a really great preschool craft and had the Valentine's party at Nate and Devanie's and I even managed to get my chubby little paws on six Krispy Kreme heart-shaped donuts for breakfast on Tuesday. That's when Valentine's day should have ended. But it didn't.
Yesterday wasn't a terrible day, generally. Caleb was in a particularly great mood and the boys got to visit with the tooth fairy in their library class, which Noah was absolutely thrilled about. We babysat Jorge Andres and after only half an hour of head banging, he gave in and decided we weren't ogres afterall. Mark started feeling better and everyone "loved" Hunter's valentines at school. So see, it wasn't so bad. It's just that as the day progressed, my house (which I had managed to keep clean for almost an entire week) started falling apart. And I didn't get to finish the cool preschool craft with the boys that I had spent all morning cutting out hearts for. And I didn't make a cheescake for Mark which I've done almost every Valentine's Day for the past ten years except for the year when Denver was barfing. And I didn't make us a yummy candlelight dinner like I had wanted to. And slowly but surely, the day went to pot.
Denver didn't like his Elmo shirt that I just bought for him last week at Penney's--he liked the boy's shirt at the library that had Star Wars on it. Note: Elmo is for two year olds NOT three year olds.
I offered to take the boys out to play in the snow and Hunter and Noah both chose to stay inside, sitting on the couch with their dad playing Nintendo. Nintendo? Over snowball fights and sledding and snowmen and snowforts and icicles and my complete and undivided attention? Where did I go wrong and would I be a bad mother if I threw the Nintendo in front of Semi during rush hour?
In a desperate attempt to save the day, I sent Mark out to pick up McDonald's for dinner. I rushed around "fancying up" the kitchen table complete with tablecloth, candles and heart confetti and made Valentine coupons for everyone promising to make the cheescake for Mark and make breakfast in bed for the kids. I cut the cheeseburgers into hearts and called the kids in for a candlight dinner and they immediately began to protest and complain about how they didn't want a candlelight dinner and that they weren't hungry. Note: Never try that again.
Then we sped over to the Feuz's for banana splits. I had sort of been hoping Mark would still be too sick to go but he had completely recovered and we both knew if we didn't show up at the Feuz's someone would be offended and that somebody isn't the kind of person you want to offend. So we went and the kids ran off to play, completely forgetting about the banana splits. We sat and chatted for awhile and then it was time to go. On our way out somebody must have farted because Denver barfed and immediately blamed it on Daddy's stinky toot. He had been complaining about a stomachache, but the stink must have sent him over the edge. Of course I didn't know he had barfed until we were halfway down the Feuz's walk when he said he had to barf and I heard Rhonda say something about somebody barfing. At that point I didn't know if I should run for the house or run for a snow-covered bush. So I grabbed him and started for the house. I must have squeezed him too hard because he immediately barfed all over himself and me and the snow. We got the kids loaded into the car and Noah said, "But I forgot about the banana splits," like at that point we'd turn the car around and go back, so he could have a banana split.
Then, to finish things off, I forgot to record American Idol. A million times throughout the day I thought, "Don't forget to set up the recorder for American Idol" and then, in the craziness of the night, I promptly forgot. It's just a tv show, I know, but after watching Nick Jr. and Noggin and Cartoon Network and PBS Kids all day, I sort of look forward to watching something that's not about shapes, numbers, colors or learning the spanish language.
Anyway, Mark wrote me a lovely little love note while he was sick in bed and ultimately, that was the one thing I really wanted for Valentine's day. I just wanted the day to be a little more romantic for my family but I suppose when you are the only girl in a family of boys the word 'romantic' is non-exsistent. Now, if I had come downstairs in a Darth Vader t-shirt and farted and burped really loud and served up buffalo wings and steak and potatoes for dinner and given the kids coupons for unlimited amounts of candy and nintendo time--then I would have scored big and maybe even gotten a big hug and kiss from all five of them. And that's what Valentine's Day is all about--more farting and barfing, less hugging and kissing
posted by Shana # 9:51 AM 
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