Talking About the Weather
I don't know what it is with me--maybe it's all the gigondas wine we drank with dinner that had such a gigantic sound to it that I became gigantically tipsy straight away--but I never felt frightened on our drive home: after our friend pushed us out of his driveway, Michael slid elegantly from one side of the road to the other, we drifted into snowbanks, we saw cars shuddering off the road and pitching into ditches--and the whole time I had a cozy winter feeling as if I were underneath a blanket watching The Nutcracker on TV.
I had intended to write this as a happy post about the gorgeous, late-season snowfall, but instead I seem to have revealed yet another of my personality disorders. What's this one? Treacherous Weather Dissociation? Sleet Mania? I'm not sure.
But it really is lovely here. I don't mind it right at the end like this--winter's little parting joke. If it weren't for the fact that we were supposed to see my parents, and must now wait a week, I would be just about perfectly happy.
Also because I'm not living through this.
I have got to encourage you to read the comments on this one. All I can say, with respect to barfing children, is: I'm glad we don't have a dog.
I love the last hurrahs of winter because you forget how tired you are of it all and marvel at it all over again.
ReplyDeleteAh, the barfing stories. I remember back in the good old days when I would read your barfing stories and be mystified by them. My babies were not barfers, and I found it all so unusual.
Not anymore. After Rota Virus (and the accompanying 7-day hospital stay) you can never really be a non-barfing household. Early January brought us a nasty virus and our youngest daughter barfed off and and on for five days. By the end it was all so routine, she barfed into her container, it got washed, sip of water, over and over.
Our night time routine is exactly as you described. I mean really, I do PJ's, he takes laundry, I run the bath. He comes back and makes the bed again....scary how it is really all the same for us parents.
Thanks for reminding me it really doesn't last forever, winter or barfing.
;)
OMG...I nearly wet my pants with the "shaking dog" comment. And OH how timely! This week my daughter, (drapped over me like one of those led blankets at the dentist), announced she didn't think she could go to school or ballet ever again...I raised an eyebrow to my husband and then, there is was....a gyser of barf all over me and my bed. Orange juice and Weetabix. Ahh...lovely. "Momma I think I might have burped on you a little"
ReplyDeleteIndeed.
omg. Our dog got a stomach infection (most likely from snacking on the contents of the litter box) just as we were moving into our new house (with its new carpeting, natch). He barfed so much and we were so busy that we just put paper towels over the spots and tried not to drag the mattress and box springs through them while our 2 1/2 year old kept telling us not to step in the "doggy cupe (puke)."
ReplyDeleteBetween that and your shaking dog tale (which I did laugh at and then read aloud to my hubby), I'm glad you don't have a dog, too. I have a nice border collie/lab mix if you're in the market, though...(just kidding, people, he's part of the family)
I don't comment over at Wondertime because it hates me and anything I have to say - I might spend several minutes tapping out some thoughtful and frightfully witty comment, only to have it gobbled by the Wondertime beast, never to be seen again by human eyes. Now the $%&#er won't even let me read the comments. I presume there is something funny about a barfing, trembling dog? But I will never know, because Wondertime hates me and thinks I smell like a poopy old diaper.
ReplyDeleteIncidentally, we went through a weekend family barf-fest before Xmas. It was interesting to see how my 3.5 year old daughter was so stoic about the whole thing ("Oh, just a minute, I'm going to barf. BLEAUGH! Now where were we?") while my five year old son screamed in outrage ("I HATE BARF!!!") after every regurgitation. The worst part was when it hit them both ends, and with no time to grab an extra bucket, I had to make a split-second decision "Now what would I rather clean up? Puke, or diarrhea?" Puke won hands down.
I saw this and, while wanting it for myself, thought of you, too:
ReplyDeletehttp://www.mcphee.com/items/11561.html
"I had intended to write this as a happy post about the gorgeous, late-season snowfall, but instead I seem to have revealed yet another of my personality disorders"--Ha ha ha ha ha!
ReplyDeleteWinter is OVER and it KNOWS IT. All it can do is slam the door on its way out.
Remember how Dave Barry used to say that phrases in his column would make excellent band names? I nominate Treacherous Weather Dissociation and Sleet Mania.
ReplyDeleteHi Catherine! We got some lovely snow, too- about 15" and with my husband recovering from knee surgery, a nice neighbor thankfully pitched in to clear our driveway. Yes, barfing is something kids outgrow, but dogs never seem to. My son was a barfer, thankfully, approaching his 18th birthday, his stomach seems to (oh, wait, I won't jinx myself!!!) Nevermind. (As Rosanne Rosannadanna used to say) Ciao!
ReplyDeleteMy toddler just got over a week of vomiting and hospital stays and I am just so very, very happy that winter is almost over, with it's nasty snowy germs.
ReplyDeleteOh man, the snowfall. It does look lovely, I have to admit. But the timing? I mean, wasn't it just the day before when it was positively bursting with spring? 65 degrees??(including the most glorious day ever, which was my birthday, March 14!)So yes, the late winter snow is beautiful. But I'll be happy knowing the roads will be clear for months and months of Sundays (and more). You're still the very very coolest, but I wish you wouldn't write about barf so much. You know that "not again!" feeling? Well, I have to confess that that's how I felt reading the Wondertime column. Please don't everyone hate me. I still think Catherine is the greatest!
ReplyDeleteI seemto end up catching itin my hands. Thnfully we have had only minor episodes so far...knock wood
ReplyDeleteI always shiver at the barfing stories, and also sigh with a weird relief. I feel, in the evil manner of the ancient Romans cheering at the gladiator games, that because it is happening to you I am safe, impervious to your bad luck.
ReplyDeleteFirst, I share the exact same barf time chores that you have. Don does everything that Michael does. I wonder how that happens.
ReplyDeleteI wish the weather would make up it's mind here. One day we are in the 70s, the next we are in the 30s. That only leads to more germs and of course, more barfing.
kinda sound like michael was drinking and driving - perchance you should clarify?
ReplyDeletePlease, PLEASE, tell us michael wasn't drinking and then driving...especially with the precious kids in the car!!!
ReplyDeletesince Wondertime hates me (I am so glad I am not the only one BTW) I am posting my barfing comment here :-)
ReplyDeleteCatherine, I have been with you all the way on the barf stories. I too had barfaphobia or whatever it really is called before I had kids.
I ran from the room the first time my daughter puked on me ("but that's what mommies are FOR", she wailed). but one day I realized that I was over it. it was no big deal anymore.
we have a routine, just like you said. I take the kid into the bathroom and hose him/her down. my husband strips the bed. I bring back towels and a fresh set of sheets. we make the bed and tuck towels and buckets around the puker and stagger back to bed ourselves.
I agree with the poster who said you haven't lived till you've hosed down a pukey car seat. my daughter went through about a 2 year period where she somehow managed to puke in the bed or the carseat at least once a week. it go so we kept a giant plastic bowl from the dollar store (meant, I'm sure, for fun things, like popcorn or fruit or something) in the car for her at all times.
I also want to toss out an AMEN SISTER to the person with the comment on the emesis basins in the hospital. what the heck is up with those things? Heck, give me the bedpan already. what good is this little puny kidney shaped thing good for? I have had bowel surgery in the past and for a few years there I was an ER regular with my going-from-both-ends adventures. Hubby and I call it the drool bowl cause that's all its good for.
Over ten years ago we went into an ER and a young intern questioned my story that I had been puking up blood. he suggested that perhaps I'd eaten, oh, red jello, for dinner? I responded that he could check for himself in a second, and promptly overflowed my emesis bowl, right on his pristine little intern shoes.
Lol.. you were talking about the weather but you don't have any idea about it.. that's not good. hoow about changing the topic to handbags?
ReplyDelete