I’m around kids all day, it’s my new reality. If it’s not my kid, it’s sick kids at the pediatricians office, play dates with other runny-nosed kids, getting coughed on by a kiddo giving me a hug: it’s all in a day’s work. I would do anything for my son, and my dream for him is to be a happy, healthy, toddler who turns into a happy, healthy, productive member of society. And if sticking him with a needle gives him better odds of being that, then by all means stick away. But it’s not just about my son. As was my desire to get myself and my husband vaccinated for the whopping cough it was also to get the flu shot this year, and here’s why:
Did you all see that news article last week about the mom in Texas who died at the age of 29 leaving behind 3 kids? The thought is terrifying. Not only of having 3 kids at my age, but of Lucas not having the opportunity to come find me when I hide under a blanket on the family room floor or telling his friends in school that “my mom made my lunch.” Lucas deserves to have me around.
Jenny McCarthy who has decided that vaccinations hurt kids, and all of the selfish moms who agree with her and choose not to vaccinate their kids. Yes, you read that right: selfish. Their choice not to vaccinate their kid is bringing back all of these horrible diseases which otherwise would have been more or less eliminated (for lack of a better word). But now? My son is going to grow up in a world where he better hope that I kept up on his shots because his classmate is going to come down with a nasty case of whopping cough that’s not going to be diagnosed until his tree-hugging mother sends him to school sick for a week.
So if my son’s healthy future could possibly be tarnished by someone in his world getting sick, then by all means I can put aside my paralyzing fear of needles and would you like my left arm or my right? And allow me to hold my son while you stick his leg because we’re going to do everything that we can in this house to make sure that my son gets the opportunity to tell me that I’m embarrassing him.
And THAT is why I got the flu shot today.
When we moved to Michigan this time last year there were a few things that I expected and a few that I didn’t. Did: making new friends. Didn’t: digging out my garage door for the 4th time in -5 degree temps so that I can close it.
Day 1: “This will be fun!”
The storm was expected to blow in Saturday afternoon so we adjusted a few plans, like Angel taking his brother back to Ann Arbor and me making sure that we have enough food for a day or two so that I didn’t have to go to the grocery store. Sidebar: Ah, the value of retrospective knowledge. It starts snowing on Saturday night and I’m a little excited going to sleep that night thinking that we’re going to have so much fun in the snow!
Day 2: “Don’t Drink My Wine”
Sunday I awake to 4 inches of snow on the ground and blizzard conditions starting outside. Our sweet neighbor had just blown our driveway and walk for us and was doing his when I took over a gift basket and thank you note for taking care of our driveway the last time that it snowed. I chatted with him for a few minutes and told him to enjoy the hot tea in the gift basket and to stay warm and let us know if they needed anything.
Around 11 I was texting Lindsey about the Friends marathon on TBS and she mentioned that she was sending her husband out for milk and diapers because all she had to drink was wine. I told her that I was fine on the milk and diaper department but missed my boat for the alcohol that was going to be necessary. And then I thought how perfect we would be if we lived next door to each other. An hour later, I had just put Lucas to bed and was cleaning the kitchen watching the crazy snow come down when there’s a knock at my door and her husband was headed home from the store and was instructed to drop this off:
At this point it’s noon and the roads are just about closed, it’s really coming down, and now we have everything that we need to weather the storm. I’m amazed as the snow keeps coming.
Because at this point we were still making margaritas out of the lemons that life gave us, we put our gifted beer and wine outside the sliding door because the walk from the couch to the fridge is so far when you’re being lazy.
“What’s for dinner?”
“Chicken and green beans.”
To mix things up a bit, after dinner I brought up the giant air mattress from the camping box in the basement. I’m thinking that we could all pile on it and the couch and watch movies and have fun like you see the fake families on TV do.
Lucas loved it, and after 15 minutes of playing on it and giggling, he was so worn out and tired he was screaming at the top of his lungs…. an hour before his bedtime. So, Lucas went to bed early because apparently spending all day with each other is exhausting. Kid, you’re a genius.
Angel retreats to his man cave to watch sports, and I continue my Friends marathon, chick flick movies, and head to bed with a good book around 9. On my way to bed I yell down the basement stairs “I’m going to bed now. Don’t drink my wine.” and the conversation continues like this:
Angel: “Why would I drink your wine?”
Me: “I don’t know. I’m just telling you not to.”
Angel: “Did it look like I was going to drink your wine?”
Me: “I’m just telling you not to.”
Angel: “But why would you say that?”
Me: “I’m going to bed. Don’t you dare drink my wine.”
Day 3: Hide the sharp, pointy, objects
By this point I don’t remember what it feels like to leave the house and step outside of the garage. There’s a whole world out there that I’ve forgotten about. I think I even own a mailbox, though I can’t see it anymore. Wasn’t there a road in front of the house? And what happened to our patio set? That’s right, it’s all under feet (plural) of snow. Enter: “lake effect snow” which is west Michigan’s fancy way of telling you that you’re going to get so much snow that you’ll fight with your family over getting toilet paper out of the basement.
Angel was taking trash out through the garage but there was so much snow that the door wouldn’t close. So he “closes” it manually and comes back inside for a work meeting. 4 hours later there is snow in our garage and we’re bickering about who’s going to go deal with the door. It’s clearly a 2 person job so we’re standing outside in -5 degree weather with a wind chill of -35 yelling at each other about how to clear the snow and close the door. It’s really rather shocking that no one was hit by the snow shovel. And then the door gets closed.
Molly refuses to go to the bathroom outside anymore. I think she’s afraid that she’s going to get buried in the snow and I do see her concerns there. the snow is now up to my hip, but it’s not like I care anymore because it’s so cold.
I am in hell, and it has just frozen over.
Lucas doesn’t want to play with his toys anymore. He doesn’t want to eat, and he now has diaper rash and doesn’t want to be changed. He doesn’t want to play upstairs, he won’t let me clean the kitchen, and Angel is moving from room to room trying to find somewhere quiet to work.
I contemplate walking anywhere just to get out of the house, but since that would require showering I quickly decide it’s not worth it.
I’ve finished my Kindle book, my ipad is dead, and I’ve seen every show and movie on DVR. There is only so much Mickey Mouse Clubhouse that one can stand and I’m at my limit. I’m boooooored. Christmas is put away, Valentines Day decor is up, and I have the cleanest house on the street.
Angel must be feeling my boredom because we’re picking fights over nothing just so we have something to do. “Did you move my powercord from the floor over here to the floor over there?!”
And for the love of God, if Molly and Lucas don’t stop fighting, I’m going to throw one of them in the snow.
Before bedtime Lucas was running laps around the coffee table and then running to the front window and back again. He clearly has cabin fever and has some energy that would be better spent throwing a temper tantrum in the baking aisle of the grocery store if we could ever leave the house.
Day 4: We are coming undone
Tomorrow starts day 4 of being snowed into the house with each other. We’re running low on milk, wine, and patience.
Do you ever wake up in the morning, look in the mirror, and think that can’t be accurate?
The holidays have passed, so it’s time for everyone to directly throw out their scales before anyone or anything gets set on them. Save yourself the ego hit and the lofty goals to join a gym and step away from the peppermint chocolate cookies. Or hell, just finish up the cookies quickly and throw away the trash before anyone notices.
All of this because, according to this BMI chart, I’m too short.