We went to a backyard boil tonight. The food was delicious and the company was lovely. I made Sangria (which was yum) and an apple pie (which was yumm-er) and I ate way more than I needed to, but it was all good and a lot of fun. Thanks, Denise, for inviting us : ) EDIT: that should actually say “last night,” but I started to write this when we got home and, um, fell asleep with the laptop on my chest in bed. STEP AWAY FROM THE BLOG, NOW.
Carlie was complaining of a cough when we were on the way there, which sounded kind of like a fake cough, or maybe an “I had a sleepover and didn’t actually sleep and, man, am I tired now” cough.
We kept blowing her off, telling her she was fine, sending her on her way, when she would join the adults and discretely complain to mom and dad about her cough or a headache or runny nose or stomach ache. Eventually she went into the living room to watch Shrek with the other kids and she fell asleep. When it was time to go home, we woke her up (she was sound asleep) and, man, was she hot. Like fever hot. Like “oh crap, she wasn’t faking and I totally blew her off and wow are we horrible parents” hot. The horrible parent discussion was had for the entire 15 minute drive home (while she slept in the car), with Tim feeling a skosh guilty because Carlie wanted to sit in his lap earlier and he told her no. It’s 9 a.m. and she’s still in bed sleeping.
Sadly, this is not the first time that we have been horrible parents in this regard. We have good kids who generally are not fakey kids, but the immediate assumption is ALWAYS that the illness is, if not being faked, is at least being dramatized. This is a form of parental denial more than an accusation against the children. I can't have sick kids, I am barely able to manage with healthy kids. Sick kids is too challenging for me, so I just pretend they're not sick. As a parenting style, it usually works. And has resulted in kids who have learned to very adequately fend for themselves for the most part, so yay for raising independent children!
This is not a good time for having a sick kid, not good at all. Definitely does not work with my schedule right now, sorry, you’re going to have to perk up, kiddo. My sister is coming from Little Rock on Wednesday to stay for a week, bringing her two year old Tasmanian devil with her, which reminds me that I have to devil-proof my family room because Carlie has markers and crayons and other non-2-yro-friendly things EVERYWHERE. There is a little bit of Carlie-ness in every nook and cranny of this house, and 90% of it is not toddler friendly. I also need to find and eradicate the source of the stench before she gets here.
And we’ve got our big family campout next weekend, which would definitely be hindered by a sick kid. Campout head count current is at 16 adults, 5 teens and 13 kids. We’re hosting on our riverfront property near the coast (if you consider 15 miles to be near, which I do not, but to my husband that’s practically the beach, plus who needs the ocean when you have a river (Me! Me! That’s who!) ) This is our fourth annual “big campout” which has been at different times dubbed “O’B Fest,” “Little Tijuana” and currently the name of choice is “Dignity Village.”
I’ve had three calls in the last two days from people wanting to discuss menus and coordinate food, etc. I don’t want to be in charge of food, or coordinating or anything else. I just want to go camping and keep it simple and not try to feed 30+ people in any kind of organized fashion. But people are going to want to eat and so I guess it’s time to put a little thought into it. The only plan so far is that we’re getting a couple sacks of oysters in Astoria and grilling those for dinner Saturday night. As far as Thursday, Friday, Sunday and Monday food goes, it’s all still up in the air. But, oysters, yum. Anyone who knows how to feed large groups on a campout that wants to join us, drop me a line! It’s going to be a good time, food or no food, that much is for sure.
So, obviously, I have no time for illness in my household. Not to mention, school starts in nine days (can I get an amen!) and she can’t be sick for the excitement of back to school. Especially not this year, with the whole drama of having “the new teacher” that no one has met yet. How exciting is that when you go to a VERY SMALL school that has had the same teachers for 100 years? Very exciting, that’s how exciting.
Well, 9:20 a.m. on a Sunday morning. I guess I should get out of bed and see what’s doing with the rest of the fam. Plus I need to find an Advil for my head. Sangria, yum.