Disturbing News

With pirates sailing the high seas in little row boats and taking over war ships, and the government talking about bail-outs when frankly, it's impossible to bail out of an already sunk ship, we are doing a little bit of our own survival experiments here on the home front.

Ever tell a small child to wash their hands and called after them, "Remember to use water"? I said that the other day. AFTER finding slimy soap dripping off of small hands eager to help with a kitchen project.

Have you ever opened your freezer only to have a heavy, sopping, you-got-your-money's-worth-out-that Pull up fall off the top of the fridge where a small child had obviously thrown it when you told them to throw it in the trash? Making a mental note: "Smart Intelligent Bright Genius Child, please throw your icky diaper in the garbage -- remember, the trash can is not the fridge, honey!" Maybe this is a normal thing to have happen in American homes but it was the first time that type of thing happened here.

And then as you wander around your home, aimlessly making supper, folding laundry, vacuuming, baking bread and wiping up continual messes in the bathroom, your Mother Radar Instinct kicks in and you are alerted through closed doors and tight walls that your child is in distress. Serious distress: the dog is chewing the diaper right off your baby's butt through a fence.

So, you rescue the child, send him back to his play only to notice that he intentionally makes himself available for the dog to chew his butt. It's like saving innocent people only to watch them run right back into the hands of wicked men.

Then while enjoying a nice little chat with your neighbor in her front yard, you give your whining baby a "toy" to play with: his sister's Croc. It's not like he was going to chew on it or anything; maybe just play catch or something. You notice that the shoe is wet inside. But, you chalk it up to the dew left over from the morning -- even though the ground is exceptionally dry where you're standing. When you arrive home 20 minutes later, you learn quite quickly that the sister who owns the Crocs had indeed had an 'accident' in the neighbor's front lawn. "And that's all I'm going to say about that."

But what tops it all was my inability to cope with life for two days.

For two whole days (and believe me, TWO days is a lot of time for a kid to figure a few things out about pulling strings and cutting corners on rules) I had a fever and aches in places I didn't know existed. Plus, I had a headache, leaky nose that kept me connected to a Kleenex box like a scuba diver under water is connected to his oxygen tank, fatigue as in drop-where-ever-you-are-and-sleep, and a bladder infection that made me feel like I was in a perpetual state of internal fire which basically makes one feel every bit of half dead. Topped off with the virus that made me feel half dead as well, I knew for sure I was a goner.

But the kids didn't.

They continued their lively banter through out the day, knocking the baby down so they could sit on him playing with the baby, feeding the baby raw bread dough helping me make bread, peeing everywhere but in the toilet building my character about laundry, demanding pie for breakfast teaching me to mean no when I say no and just overall being lively, energetic healthy kids.

And now that my energy is back up to normal, I think I can handle it from here quite easily... as long as no body else gets sick!