Dancing Without Rhythm

Yesterday was a hard day for me. It was all me having low tolerance and whatnot, but these two little monkey-bums were not all that innocent. Avee screamed and cried at the drop of a lego. Benja wouldn't stop body slamming her. Or me, for that matter. Everyone kept needing food and water and milk. I actually fell asleep on the floor and woke up to Benja doing sommersaults on my back and Avee sitting on my head yelling at him for kicking her while she was just minding her own business SITTING ON MY HEAD.

And then there was the talking. Oh the talking. Benja seems to think that if he's silent for more than 3 seconds his head will fall off and roll under the car and get run over and he will never get to sing the ABC's ad nauseum again. I don't think it's nice to say "stop asking why" or make someone stop talking just because the sound of his voice makes you want to climb on top of a barbed wire fence and do the splits---because it would just be more pleasant. So I don't say anything. I just suffer in silence. Yesterday he was so hard up for new material in his running around the house with his fists extended out in front of his body as a "superhero" he yelled, "I AM A JAPANEEEEEEEESE MAN!" That's how many superheroes he's been through already. Or he just doesn't know any more.

So I thought Avee had spent the night with some fire ants because she woke up with some bites on her scalp and a few on her neck. She got attacked a couple of weeks ago and was covered in bites. It devastated me to see her hands and feet like that, but she couldn't be bothered and wasn't. Yesterday, after nap she woke up with a few more bites. I went after those vicious ants like only the mother of a bitten baby would. I found nothing. I put her to bed last night and she woke up with even more bites.

I ransacked her "room". Nothing.

So I called the doctor. Because I'm a genius like that.

We have the pox upon our house. We have the curse of the chicken. We are quarantined. Whatsmore, there is no chocolate, pizza, OR ice cream to make this quarantine in the least bit worth my while. I can't go to the gym. I can't go to Blockbuster. I can't go to Wal-Mart. I can't go to church. I can't go to the bathroom....in peace. Ugh.

The thing that cracks me up is this. Chicken pox are not pleasant. They are generally not fatal. They are even less of a big deal the younger a person is. I didn't vaccinate my kids for the pox for that reason. I can understand the financial toll it takes on mothers who work and then have to miss two weeks of work because of it. If I were a working mother, I would vaccinate. And for that reason, I won't take my kids out in public---that wouldn't be fair. That still isn't the part that cracks me up, but I'm getting to it. The part that cracked me up is, after seeing the doctor today, we were escorted out, by the doctor himself. Out the BACK door. He said to me, "Have you been out the super-secret special back way?" I looked at him, perplexed for a minute. Perhaps he meant to be asking my children that, but was looking at me instead? Perhaps my small size and stature since I've lost 12 pounds mislead him to believe I was a child? I don't know. But honestly, I didn't really know how to answer him. Should I pretend to be Avee and babble back while shaking my head fiercely? Should I answer like I was Benja? "Soo-poh see-cwet WHAT? I wanna see-cwet, I wanna see-cwet---get me a gwape one!"

It's okay that I didn't know how to respond, apparently a response wasn't necessary. We were shuffled out the back door to the back alley and pointed around a corner to make our way to the front. I laughed REALLY loud in that alley. I would expect something like this if my children were homely---or if I hadn't lost 12 pounds, but just passing through the lobby with the pox? Where is the love? If I can't get it in a doctors office---there is no hope. I did however insist on two grape suckers before the door was slammed on our butts. The drama that ensued after last weeks visit (for the butt rash) when only ONE sucker made it to the car was not something I was willing to endure again. Especially not after being hidden from the general public and shooed out the back door. And now quarantined.

Does anyone know if Wal-Mart delivers. Ben and Jerry's?

Posted by Angela on Tuesday, September 12, 2006 at 9/12/2006 | Permalink