Ladybug has the crap. Whatever it's called--goopy eyes, sore throat, lethargy, high-octane whining, burning desire to treat grown people like barcaloungers... that's what she's got.
Seriously--it's a good thing I got in a good post on Sunday--and about that. You all are the best e-buddies in all explored space--I'd knit you magical stuff in a heartbeat. ismarah would get that bookbag (I think she'd probably want hers withOUT the flamethrower option) and for Louiz... well, sweetheart, I'd make you the same thing I'd knit for Bells, with an extra room to put it in. I'd probably knit Eric a degree in anything that lets him play video games all day long and... I'm getting off topic.
Anyway, in the asscrack of dawn, Monday morning, Ladybug woke the entire house with the dreaded SEAL BARK. Yup, yessirree, the croup--as in, HOLY CROUP, WHAT IN THE FUCK IS THAT NOISE?
So she woke us up, and she woke herself up, and then it was all tears and fffreaking out as we gave her some medicine and waited for it to kick in, and first I took her outside and she cried because why in the fuck was mommy taking her out in the dark (it really was the asscrack of morning--one cheek in Sunday and the other in Monday, darkthirty in the fucking a.m.) and that was SKKEEEEERRRRY and now why is mommy putting us in the bathroom with the shower running and that was SKKKEEEERRRY and finally, after an hour, she fell asleep in my arms as I sat in the mildewing throne-room, getting all schweaty with shower mist.
Poor kid--I feel bad for her--it's all sore-throats, mild fevers and eye-boogers for the next couple of days, and you know that can't possibly be fun, not even a little tiny bit at all. And to make shit interesting, it's STAR testing at our school, and I'm torn. I promised the kids a movie after STAR testing. In spite of my administration's valiant attempt to make us not do that, my attitude is a respectful ppppfffffttttt.... I've taken tests before--manual labor afterwards? Absolutely. "Vigorous and meaningful curriculum?" Oh please--what kind of freakin' sadists think that's a good idea? If the state doesn't want us to piss away our valuable instructional minutes, maybe we shouldn't have a week's worth of testing in the first place, hmmmmm? Anyway, the kids will get their movie (erm, Supernatural for the 10th graders. For special poetic reasons that I'll think of as I'm giving them their movie assignment, and Almost Famous for the 11th graders so they can chart out the American Romantic Ideals of the Early 1800ds as they were resurrected by American music in the 1960's & 70's) Anyway, I sort of wanted to be there as my 11th graders watched Almost Famous--it's one of my favorite movies to share with the kids, and they REALLY get a lot out of it, but I think they'd rather have me there for STAR testing, as sort of moral support.
Besides, I was there today with my infamous 3rd period class, and if I hadn't been there to issue a pre-emptive request with the administration to separate the assholes from the animate objects, those kids testing in that room would have sucked eggs because the assholes were in fine form today. (Fifteen years I've been giving this fucking test, and the pissy little girl who stomped out of my class weeping last week is the only kid to ever accuse a teacher who is READING THE TESTING SCRIPT of "giving us bad directions." That kid's karmic rocket-sled is heading for a brick wall at mach 10, I'm telling you!) Anyway, I've done my best to treat this seriously this year, and I should be there for it, right?
But she's not going to be better after tomorrow, which means I lose the chance to watch Almost Famous with my 3rd period. Then and again, I'm having delusions of giving the class the power of referral. If the sub asks the class which kids to send out, and they unanimously vote Asshole 1, Asshole 2, and Asshole 3, doesn't that count? Shouldn't it? I mean, the kids come in, and if Assholes 1-3 aren't there, they look around, sigh in relief, and everyone who ISN'T an asshole says, "Gee, I wish... you know... THEY didn't have to come in." That pretty much is a neon arrow pointing to the fact that it's not the teacher, it's the assholes. *hee hee* Maybe I SHOULD learn how to knit new assholes, just so I can rip them out!
Anyway, all this is fretting with the unimportant chaff, when the grain of it is, my kid feels like crap and I don't know what to do about it. (And swine flu is hitting the news, and that makes us really freaking paranoid even when we're not usually alarmists...) Oh yeah--and she poked her reddened, rheumy little blue-eye with a straw today, so it looks even worse.
I don't know why I'M kvetching... I'd say the person who has the right to whine here is poor Ladybug, who is stuck at home and hating it.
Get better, sweetie... and while you're at it, could you try and let mama get some sleep? She seems to have a serious case of the Zeppelins... you know. Ramblin' on.
(Oh yes--and on a lighter note, as I was telling Julie yesterday, Ladybug was watching a Pooh Bear movie, and she wanted to know about Christopher Robin. I said, "He's Pooh's boy--he plays with Pooh and helps him do things and Pooh just can't have a good day without Christopher Robin."
To which Ladybug replied, "My Christopher Robin is Big Q, right mama?" *sniff*)