hi. here i am again. caught up on paperwork and reports. surprise file audit? bring it on!
so. let’s talk about the hospital.
it sucks. it smells. the food is something to be desired.
we won’t talk about the specifics but just before christmas kid #1 had to spend a week there being the bravest of brave kid i’ve ever seen. this kid endured 3 spinals, countless needles, iv’s, and peeing in a bottle, or portable urinal. whatever. now this is the kid who was once asked to leave a flu clinic because just the idea of having a shot was enough to propel him into fits of anxiety and there were concerns that he was terrifying the other children. fair enough. similarly we are not allowed to talk about body parts around him, god forbid he might have to envision the sight of blood. but the kid’s obsessed with zombies. go figure.
back to the hospital.
it would be helpful if the dietary staff could please explain to me their reasoning for preparing food in the manner in which it becomes unrecognizable.
also, doctors. what the f***? bedside manners also to be desired. don’t ask my kid which family member he prefers over me (gramma). and i am not an idiot so don’t treat me like one. on the contrary i have several useless degrees and know stuff. and why the comments about how terrible i look? my kid is sick, right? and i have slept here multiple nights without showering in the adjoined bathroom because i am terrified of stepping on germs. also i am plagued with worrying about my kid. so that.
obviously he’s alright now and thankfully was home for christmas. so that was good. but also that meant that he was well enough to show up to his school christmas concert in which i had to endure multiple groups of kids singing holiday songs in french which i failed to understand. and then kid #1’s class came on stage.
let’s back this up.
post that day of school kid #1 began harassing me for a santa hat with bells on it because apparently this had become a thing amongst his classmates. so fine. i piled everyone in the car to go in search of a santa hat with bells on it. because i am the best. also, because i’m the best, i agreed to let him wear a hoodie over his nice shirt so long as he promised to take it off prior to going on stage. what i did not mean was to unzip it and let it hang off his shoulders like a slob on stage. next to all of the other well-dressed children. i glared at him. he glared back at me. my mother tried to remind me that he was alive. as in a ‘pick your battles’ type reminder. i told her that this was not an excuse for looking horrid and disobeying your mother.
and then. oh then.
some horrible nameless child whom i have since come to despise decided to elbow kid #1. which pissed kid #1 the hell off. who then retaliated and elbowed him back. harder. and back and forth and so on. and then the teacher must have gotten wind of this in which case kid #1’s singing came to a halt as he began violently gesturing towards the other kid, clearly attempting to signal that what was going on wasn’t his fault.
i was embarrassed. i was ashamed. i wanted to hang my head and crawl into a hole under my chair. and also the other kid was much better dressed than he was.
the teacher later told me that it looked like i could use a vacation. obviously.
christmas was toy laden but otherwise uneventful.
on new year’s eve we went sledding and i promised the kids they could stay up until midnight.
side note, kid #1 has finally figured out that you do not in fact turn into a pumpkin if you stay awake past midnight. he is mere weeks away from being 8.
regardless, at 11:40 i gathered everyone into my bed to discuss resolutions for the coming year. which it would appear no one understood.
me: so resolutions are when we make goals, or things we hope to accomplish in the new year.
kid #1: oh. ok. well then i want to have a resolution to get to more levels in minecraft.
me: that’s not really what i was talking about.
kid #2: i want to eat more treats in the new year.
husband: i think your resolution should be to drink less wine.
me: you can’t have a resolution for someone else. that’s not the way it works. and besides, i don’t actually drink that much.
me: well we have 3 kids unless you haven’t noticed. and anyway doesn’t anyone want to know what my resolutions are?
me: you know what? nevermind. you guys suck.
kid #3: mama! booboo!
and those were basically our holidays.
and now comes the part where i get to share my love of stockholm artist ingela arrhenius with you.
my knowledge of sweden up until reading the girl with the dragon tattoo triology was that it appeared to have a proverbial hot-person factory responsible for pumping out blonde-haired, blue-eyed uber-people. and that it was cold. and that they ate herring and meatballs and lingonberries and designed furniture. and that it’s claim to fame was ikea. and ingela arrhenius as far as i’m concerned because i love art and i love things for children and i love items that combine the two.
and incidentally want to plaster my walls with this parisienne themed poster she’s come up with through omm design.
and also these similar ones for good measure.
omm products, which can be purchased at stores worldwide, hosts a number of other ingela arrhenius-designed items including adorable melanin plates that my kids won’t manage to be able to break even if they huck them across the room at me.
and various matryoshka sets. kid #2 is all about these things since she likes arranging EVERYTHING (read: cups, bowls, blueberries, raisins…) into families. and why not a family comprised of randomly chosen animals?
and wallpaper (oh how i do love wallpaper…)
and remember how i went through that whole sewing phase? well if i ever feel inspired to do that again i will head on over to liandlo which carries ingela arrhenius-designed fabric and children’s clothing made from it.
here she is, hard at work, being much more creative and talented than i will ever be.
ever. ever. ever. ever.
which is why i just get to write about stuff.