Posted by: thughesa | June 25, 2010

Quarantine Sucks, Wine Doesn’t

Yesterday started out with my youngest waking up with her eyes glued shut. The pink death (pink eye) is going around our complex and it was only a matter of time before it caught up with us. We stayed in all morning to avoid other kids and because my youngest was so cranky and obviously ill. We watched movies all morning and cuddled up in blankets on the couch. It was nice actually, quiet, cozy, cuddly. It was after nap time that cabin fever began to set it.

I released the older one, symptom free, outside to play with her friends. I thought since we had had such a long day inside I would let my little sick baby play on the patio while I made a nice dinner. I made myself a real dinner, as opposed to pancakes, with alphatots and salmon for the kids.

After four mouthfuls were unceremoniously spat out on her plate, the youngest was ejected from the table. The oldest was ejected when she told me “I don’t have a good life.”

“Really.” I replied. Now here comes the guilt:

Starving children. Check.

Sick kids in hospital. Check.

Kids with no parents. Check.

I was done. Done. Done. Done. I banished them upstairs, so I could collect my thoughts, drink some wine my sister had brought me back from Spain, and clean the kitchen. I got about four minutes in when the eldest started yelling that her sister had spilled water all over my bed. She had indeed. She was drinking water from a cup and was spitting it out all over my bed. There’s some baby psychology for you.

Well done by this point, I banished them further still to their rooms and went back downstairs and called a friend, drank more wine. No answer. I tried my sister. No answer. The phone rings, a 416 area code. I was actually pleased at the prospect of taking out all of my frustration on some poor unsuspecting innocent telemarketer. It turned out to be my brother using a calling card, how dull. It was nice to talk to him though. He is a parent too. His little guy is too young to be too much a menace yet, but he gets the picture.

We all calmed down for story time and had a nice snuggle. The hardest thing I find after I have clawed to the end of my rope is to let it go and move on. They are just children, they aren’t doing it on purpose to irritate me (are they?), it’s my job as the grown up to pull it together, tell them what’s what and teach them to be good people. 

My eldest and I had a cuddle, talked about how it is hard for mommy while daddy is away and to please try to remember to help mommy if possible, and that mommy was sorry for getting mad.

The girls went to bed, thank god. I had a large glass wine and I watched some cheesy daytime television on the PVR.  The troubles in my own life always seem so much smaller afterward.


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