Thanks to all who left comments or called or emailed to let me know their sympathetic thoughts were with me as I battled whatever it was that struck me down in Jack's name. One friend, who has a chronic, life-compromising illness sent her love and good wishes, which I appreciated. It also made me feel a little bit like a whiner.
Okay, a lot like a whiner.
I have a sad, funny Christmas anecdote to share. My mom and I are both going through some kind of senility thing that only affects car keys. Oftentimes, when we're going places in one vehicle, she lets me drive her car. That way, she's able to have a glass of wine, and I can see what it's like to drive a car with heated seats and the kind of speed and maneuverability made possible by German engineering. We're talking a very nice car. So this is our new routine--I drive, she provides the car, all is good. Except that somewhere between our return home and the next five minutes after that, the key tends to disappear. When it does turn up, it's in a place that puzzles both of us.
On Christmas day I drove with Mom and my daughter Maria to my sister Kathy's for Christmas dinner. Greg and the boys went in our car. We found Franklin, Wisconsin without much trouble and even located the house and driveway, but it was the key that needed our complete attention.
After I shut the engine off, I turned to my mom and very slowly, emphasizing each word said, "I AM HANDING YOU THE KEY."
And she said, "AND I AM ATTACHING IT TO MY WALLET."
I caught a glimpse of Maria's face in the backseat. She had a What? expression going on, so I had to explain our reasoning for this exchange. She looked amused. I am quite certain that in the future, when they ask her when her mother started to lose it she'll be able to pinpoint it to Christmas 2008.
Christmas was lovely, if you were wondering, and the key was still attached to Mom's wallet when it was time to go home.
If anyone has any funny stories about things lost and found, I'd love to hear them. It might make me feel less ditzy.
Later,
Karen
Monday, December 29, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
Wherein the Author Whines Pitifully, Apologizes to her Son and randomly Capitalizes
I am sick.
My head is clogged and my throat is sore and I have this sporadic choking cough. Also, I feel lousy--achy and annoyed.
I do think a rousing chorus of "Poor sweet baby," might help. All together now (Poor Sweet Baby!!!)--ahh, yes, I do feel a bit better. If someone would get me a hot drink and tuck the fleece throw under my feet while I recline on the couch, I would be well on my way to recovery.
Some (son Jack) might say I deserve this. First of all, I was just saying I NEVER get sick, which as everyone knows, is just asking for it. Secondly, Jack just got over this particular illness and I was a little low on the sympathy. Actually, I wasn't sympathetic at all.
In my defense, Jack can be a bit of a faker. Also, he would really prefer NOT to be at North Shore Middle School, given the chance. So, from time to time he orchestrates reasons not to go, and since he's pretty convincing and a good student, I sometimes fall for it and give him, essentially, a mental health day off, about once a year.
But we had a particularly trying spring of '08. My dad was dying and Jack missed a lot of school because he was spending time at the hospital and hospice. He got behind in his school work and had trouble catching up. The whole thing really stressed him out. The stress added to the sadness of losing a beloved grandfather, made it a difficult time, to say the least.
I was determined that Jack wouldn't miss school unnecessarily this year, because I didn't want him to get behind again. So when he said his throat hurt and he felt not-so-great, I patiently explained the difference between "not feeling good," and "being sick." The world would shut down if everyone who didn't feel good stopped doing their jobs, I told him. Suck it up, I said. In a few days you'll have two weeks off for Christmas break. Just a few more days, Jack, you can do it.
His symptoms seemed suspicious. His cough was just random enough and strangley enough to sound forced. His throat, inspected with a flashlight, did look red, but I knew from experience that a hot drink and some Motrin would fix that right up. It didn't keep him from eating, so how bad could it be, right?
In retrospect, I feel terrible about this.
Every day he played the sick card and each day I nudged him out the door. We kept this up until the Thursday before vacation when he managed to produce a fever. I am not a bad enough mother that I'd ignore a fever, so finally, finally, Jack got his sick day.
The next day, Friday, school was closed due to inclement weather. (I love that phrase, "inclement weather." No one ever uses it except in school closings.)
Jack told me later that his favorite days begin with "S." When asked to explain he came up with: Saturdays, Sundays, Sick days and Snow days. Ha! By sick days I think he meant as a break from school, not that he enjoys being ill.
That was last week. Jack is fully recovered now and enjoyed Christmas as a healthy young person. In the meantime, I started to feel not so great. It started with a little congestion and then my throat felt sore.... Hey--I realized with a start, I think I have what Jack had!
Where do I begin? My head hurts and my throat is sore and I have this tickle in the back of my mouth which causes a random cough, which tortures the throat with a scraping sensation.
I cannot imagine going to eighth grade and sitting through classes feeling like this.
Jack, I am so, so sorry. I should have listened to you. You deserve a better mother, but I'm all you've got. I will try harder in the future, I promise.
To the rest of you--I wish you only good health. From now on, if anyone tells me they don't feel well, I'm ready with a "Poor sweet baby." And if you decide to take off of work or school, it's fine with me.
Later,
Karen
My head is clogged and my throat is sore and I have this sporadic choking cough. Also, I feel lousy--achy and annoyed.
I do think a rousing chorus of "Poor sweet baby," might help. All together now (Poor Sweet Baby!!!)--ahh, yes, I do feel a bit better. If someone would get me a hot drink and tuck the fleece throw under my feet while I recline on the couch, I would be well on my way to recovery.
Some (son Jack) might say I deserve this. First of all, I was just saying I NEVER get sick, which as everyone knows, is just asking for it. Secondly, Jack just got over this particular illness and I was a little low on the sympathy. Actually, I wasn't sympathetic at all.
In my defense, Jack can be a bit of a faker. Also, he would really prefer NOT to be at North Shore Middle School, given the chance. So, from time to time he orchestrates reasons not to go, and since he's pretty convincing and a good student, I sometimes fall for it and give him, essentially, a mental health day off, about once a year.
But we had a particularly trying spring of '08. My dad was dying and Jack missed a lot of school because he was spending time at the hospital and hospice. He got behind in his school work and had trouble catching up. The whole thing really stressed him out. The stress added to the sadness of losing a beloved grandfather, made it a difficult time, to say the least.
I was determined that Jack wouldn't miss school unnecessarily this year, because I didn't want him to get behind again. So when he said his throat hurt and he felt not-so-great, I patiently explained the difference between "not feeling good," and "being sick." The world would shut down if everyone who didn't feel good stopped doing their jobs, I told him. Suck it up, I said. In a few days you'll have two weeks off for Christmas break. Just a few more days, Jack, you can do it.
His symptoms seemed suspicious. His cough was just random enough and strangley enough to sound forced. His throat, inspected with a flashlight, did look red, but I knew from experience that a hot drink and some Motrin would fix that right up. It didn't keep him from eating, so how bad could it be, right?
In retrospect, I feel terrible about this.
Every day he played the sick card and each day I nudged him out the door. We kept this up until the Thursday before vacation when he managed to produce a fever. I am not a bad enough mother that I'd ignore a fever, so finally, finally, Jack got his sick day.
The next day, Friday, school was closed due to inclement weather. (I love that phrase, "inclement weather." No one ever uses it except in school closings.)
Jack told me later that his favorite days begin with "S." When asked to explain he came up with: Saturdays, Sundays, Sick days and Snow days. Ha! By sick days I think he meant as a break from school, not that he enjoys being ill.
That was last week. Jack is fully recovered now and enjoyed Christmas as a healthy young person. In the meantime, I started to feel not so great. It started with a little congestion and then my throat felt sore.... Hey--I realized with a start, I think I have what Jack had!
Where do I begin? My head hurts and my throat is sore and I have this tickle in the back of my mouth which causes a random cough, which tortures the throat with a scraping sensation.
I cannot imagine going to eighth grade and sitting through classes feeling like this.
Jack, I am so, so sorry. I should have listened to you. You deserve a better mother, but I'm all you've got. I will try harder in the future, I promise.
To the rest of you--I wish you only good health. From now on, if anyone tells me they don't feel well, I'm ready with a "Poor sweet baby." And if you decide to take off of work or school, it's fine with me.
Later,
Karen
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
O Holy Night
I love Josh Groban's voice so much that I once tried to persuade my daughter Maria to marry him. Never mind that she's still in high school and has never met him--small obstacles I thought. All I could imagine was how nice family birthdays would be if Josh were there to sing the Happy Birthday song.
Sadly Maria was not on board with my plan. That girl has a mind of her own.
In lieu of actually having Josh at my dinner table, I listen to his CDs and youtube clips. Here's one of my favorites, O Holy Night sung by Josh Groban and set to "The Nativity Story."
Sadly Maria was not on board with my plan. That girl has a mind of her own.
In lieu of actually having Josh at my dinner table, I listen to his CDs and youtube clips. Here's one of my favorites, O Holy Night sung by Josh Groban and set to "The Nativity Story."
Saturday, December 6, 2008
The Woman Who Fell Off the Planet, and other stories
Okay, I didn't really fall off the planet, I just haven't had much to say.
Since we last talked, I enjoyed a sumptuous Thanksgiving feast with my family. Turns out, I did wind up overeating on Thanksgiving day. Shoot, and I was so sure I could keep my vow of moderation on the food front. Oh, I was close, very close. Really I was. I was fine up until the end, when I figured I still had room for one small piece of pie. Ha! I clearly underestimated the way pie expands after it's eaten. Bloat city.
My Thanksgiving article in the Chicago Tribune is yesterday's news. It's now been hauled off by recycling trucks and is being made into something else. Luckily, it will be on the Tribune website for a while. If you're interested, you can see it there. Make sure you read the comments, where I'm called ignorant, insufferable and ungracious. My favorite was insufferable. My sister Kay had big fun with that, calling me insufferable at every turn.
Did you know there's this new movie out called Twilight? My daughter Maria read the book, when it first came out, back when no one had heard of it. She was one of the original Twilighters and all these Johnny-come-lately fans are getting on her nerves.
In honor of Maria's interest in Twilight (the books and now the movie), I made a cartoon here. It was a no-brainer to make, but I'm not very techno-savvy, so I was tickled when it worked out. I sent my daughter the link and she, always the polite one, listened and laughed. Jack, not so polite (age 14, you aggravate me so), said, "What's the point of that?" Did I mention he's 14?
That's all the news from Hartland, Wisconsin.
Take care and stay warm,
Karen
Since we last talked, I enjoyed a sumptuous Thanksgiving feast with my family. Turns out, I did wind up overeating on Thanksgiving day. Shoot, and I was so sure I could keep my vow of moderation on the food front. Oh, I was close, very close. Really I was. I was fine up until the end, when I figured I still had room for one small piece of pie. Ha! I clearly underestimated the way pie expands after it's eaten. Bloat city.
My Thanksgiving article in the Chicago Tribune is yesterday's news. It's now been hauled off by recycling trucks and is being made into something else. Luckily, it will be on the Tribune website for a while. If you're interested, you can see it there. Make sure you read the comments, where I'm called ignorant, insufferable and ungracious. My favorite was insufferable. My sister Kay had big fun with that, calling me insufferable at every turn.
Did you know there's this new movie out called Twilight? My daughter Maria read the book, when it first came out, back when no one had heard of it. She was one of the original Twilighters and all these Johnny-come-lately fans are getting on her nerves.
In honor of Maria's interest in Twilight (the books and now the movie), I made a cartoon here. It was a no-brainer to make, but I'm not very techno-savvy, so I was tickled when it worked out. I sent my daughter the link and she, always the polite one, listened and laughed. Jack, not so polite (age 14, you aggravate me so), said, "What's the point of that?" Did I mention he's 14?
That's all the news from Hartland, Wisconsin.
Take care and stay warm,
Karen
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