This has been a long week for all of us! It started out on a high note when we had temporary custody of my nutty sister’s kids while she went off with my brother-in-law for a peaceful weekend in Whistler. My four year old, Lanes, looked like she won the lottery when they arrived, although for some reason she was sad her uncle and aunt didn’t hang around. I, on the other hand, was ready to have a good time with my nieces as I consider myself to be the eclectically charming aunt. You know the one they want to put in a home, but keep around for comic relief.
The next day, Lanes came down with a cold, but she didn’t let that stop her when it came to playing and monkeying around with her cousins. I tried my darndest to keep her germs away from my nieces, but Lanes becomes some sort of Labrador puppy around them and she is constantly jumping, crawling, kissing and slobbering all over them and their possessions.
I was rather concerned that my babysitting services might not be solicited again after this, but my sister, rejuvenated and bubbly after her mini holiday, was so happy to have relaxed that she just brushed off my fears that along with their luggage, I might have packed the girls off with some germs and viruses for good measure. Well mostly the germs were packed.
After they left we found all kinds of things belonging to them around the house--games, shampoos, socks, hair doodads, little pets--but luckily no library books (they had brought half their local library with them). Lanes was horrified everytime she discovered something that belonged to them (she might have inherited my anal retentiveness), and she held my sister responsible for not double checking after her kids.
Whenever we took the girls out, I really enjoyed pretending that I was the proud mother of three. We took them on the 1912 carousel ride and while I watched from the sidelines, the guy operating it came up to me and with a genuinely pained expression towards my long suffering spouse, P, said ‘that poor man. Three daughters. He is outnumbered in every way’. I nearly burst out laughing.
What was funny was that several people commented on ‘our family’ and I was bemused at what they might have really been thinking considering my nieces don’t look like they could possibly belong to the both of us, on account of their dad being a tall chaotic dirty blonde from the Southern US of A.
Maybe they were feeling compassionate for P thinking that poor guy has no idea number one and two are not his. As the manager of our rickety building infamously once said, Lanes is the ‘carbon copy’ of her father, so luckily (or not so luckily for Lanes), she at least looked like she was definitely his. Maybe folks at the museum thought we were a lovely blended family.
When we were not out misleading the general public in the greater Burnaby area, we had what seemed like a big old fashioned PJ party together. My older niece was entertaining us claiming she has given herself the Heimlich maneuver twice in her eleven years on this planet. She continued to illustrate this point—at mealtime. While I feared that a huge wedge of broccoli might get stuck on my wall hangings, she immediately complained that her ribs were hurting from the demonstration. Sigh.
We all stayed up late (with the exception of Lanes, who was misled into thinking we were all sleeping by 9pm) playing Clue and hanging out and lamenting that weekends were just not long enough. We were all sad when they left.
Come Monday evening, Lanes and P were both disastrously ill with the flu. It was especially horrible for P, who had to keep up appearances at work and who had just signed up for a class that’s twice a week for the next couple of weeks. He only made it to half of his second class.
Lanes and P were on chicken soup diets. P was really out of it. Lanes jet propels herself on what little energy she has, which only makes it worse for herself. Yours truly was in quite a flap between the two of them.
Wednesday night was horrible for all of us. I got that dreaded back pain and was up by 1.30am. I had to take a mega pain killer and I was sitting on the floor of the living room with a sour look on my face and my back arched so much so that I was giving the Hunchback of Notre Dame a run for his money.
Around 2am P starts coughing up a lung, and by 2.15am Lanes had joined in. I had to spring into action and join them in the bedroom (Lanes always migrates from her bed to ours). In addition to his cough, P got a severe attack of gas (I'm sure he is delighted I'm sharing) and was the poster child for suffering. I felt like Florence Nightingale without the medical knowledge and fancy outfit. It was a long night—understatement of the year. My back was rebelling against the rest of me as I wondered if all three of us should just walk into the hospital.
By the time we settled in, it was 4.30am easily. P, naturally, couldn’t go to work, no matter how much he tried. Lanes was tired, but she had a little pee incident was up by 7am. I was exhausted and my back muscles felt like a miniature person was trying to twist every fiber of my being in an unnatural way.
It is now Sunday. Lanes is better. P is still battling the flu, and my head feels tight. I have to go for a bone density scan tomorrow and I hope I can keep my act together to make it to that! I have a long bus ride to the clinic and I just realized that my I-pod type gadget is gone. I might have dropped it when picking up lanes from school.
It’s a rather prehistoric gadget, but it had all my music in it. I was super bummed and even Lanes’ valiant attempts at cheering me up couldn’t make me less glum about it. I guess I'll have to entertain myself people watching on the bus. So it has been a rather looooong week for us. As I type this, P is still sniffling. I must sign off as I have a terrible eye ache and I need to get out the heating pack for my back. Seems like we have aged a lot since last week!
Hopefully, next week’s blog will be more chipper. I am sure do have some (mis)adventure of some sort, especially when it comes to doing a bone scan that possibly might require me to stay still. I guess I should read the paperwork on my appointment slip. Who knows if I have to down a tank of water or jump into a vat of yogurt or something before hand? Don't want to be unprepared like the last time! Here’s to more cheerful antics next week…
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