In a word, GAK

Let’s start with something warm and fuzzy, because pretty much the rest of my story today is pretty sad. Well. Sad is probably the wrong word. What’s a word that means ‘illustrative of the concept of Murphy’s Law’?

Behold, the current Sock In Progress:



This is yet more Knit Picks Simple Stripes, 75% superwash, 25% nylon, self-striping. It is going really fast – I just cast it on Monday night, and considering how many hours I have logged this week work-wise it is miraculous that I have started the charge down the foot toward the toe already.

In other news…it’s back. And this time, it’s for real. Boo Bug is sick, sick, sick. She threw up the last two nights running, and all day today has been lying on the sofa. When I called daycare and sobbed hysterically into the phone inquired as to whether or not anybody else had it, the answer was not only an emphatic ‘yes’ but an ‘oh my god the entire district has it’.

Oh, carp. So I kept her and Captain Adventure home from daycare today, called (and emailed, and instant messaged) my husband saying, “I don’t care if it costs you your JOB, you get home in time to pick up the older two tonight!!!”. I didn’t want to tote her around town while sick, and frankly after talking to daycare about the Raging Stomach Flu Bug that is wiping out the toddler room, I may not send either of them back there until Spring. Or let them out of the house. I’m looking into plastic bubbles to put them in. Preferably made by the makers of Lysol.

Well, not really. But they’re definitely staying home tomorrow. Both of them. I am not woman enough for sick children, I’m just not. I am a person who will start bawling because I see a commercial where a child gets a shot – a good shot! A healthy shot! “Thanks to your generous donations, we’re able to SAVE THIS CHILD’S LIFE with this shot!” WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! {GASP!} They gave that poor, poor baby a shot! Oh, it’s ok, baby, don’t cry, don’t cry {sob sob sob}

I’m so eternally grateful that you don’t have to take a Wuss Test before you have children. I never would have been permitted to have them, if a backbone were required.

But wait! There’s more!!

I was just given a Big Project at work. It’s one of those things where I’m proving to all parties concerned (and mostly myself) that I can handle this level of coding. I kind of, uh, well. Messed up a similar situation most grievously last year, leading to embarrassment and loss of company income, so I have a 18-wheeler sized chip on my shoulder about this right now. Can handle it. Will handle it. End of story.

But Murphy is really giving me a run for my money here.

First, while I was on the phone with my boss discussing said Big Project, the electricians (who were here to fix the disaster left by the furnace people) accidentally touched two things together that should never be touched together and BANG! In a grand and glorious shower of sparks, the entire court goes black.

That’s right. Our repairs caused a small local blackout. Great, huh? And also, right after telling my boss ‘no problem, don’t sweat it’, I had to call him back and say, “Uh, if you’re looking for me, the power just went out and I’m not sure how long it will take to get it back so heh heh, I’ve got no Internet and no work phone [they’re Internet phones].”

Followed by having to send an email this morning saying, “Kids home sick, might be spotty on the availability thing today.”

Nothing says, “Have confidence in me” like having unexpected downtime two days in a row – right before a major deadline.

So my boss called this morning to voice concern about whether or not I was going to be able to get the job done. @*^&@.

As he called this morning to make absolutely sure I was on track with things in spite of It All, The Boy Who Is Staying With Us While His Daddy Works Out of Town came skidding into the office to announce that HE HAD JUST KILLED A MINOTAUR! TWO OF THEM! AND ALSO THEY KILLED HIS HORSE!!!!!!!!!

Have you ever wanted to take a telephone receiver and clobber a nine year old with it? I had not – before that moment. All the noise-filtering-microphones in the world couldn’t hide that particular outburst. I gave him the Expression of Death© and gestured wildly at the door.

To which he replied eagerly (and loudly), “ALSO I TOOK HIS HAMMER BUT IT’S TOO BIG HOW DO YOU DO THAT THING WHERE YOU MAKE THINGS LIGHTER?!”

The urge to hit him, very hard, with the phone receiver, grew.

I got up, put my hand gently on his back, murmured, “I’m on the phone, honey”, pushed him unceremoniously out of the office and shut the door behind him.

See, this is what all those hours of meditation I do is good for. You will note that I did not clobber him with the phone, or yell or scream or fling feces around the office. Calm, genteel behavior; monk-like serenity.

Meditation, dear friends, gives you the ability to lie through your many teeth. My insides were clenched up like an LA freeway at rush hour, and words were rattling around my head that I would blush to admit I even know. Also, I really did want to smack him a good one. I swear, my palms were itching.

But I got through the conversation with the boss OK, and checking my code things were going very well; Boo Bug was on the sofa watching cartoons, Captain Adventure was bumbling around the playroom enjoying his new Christmas toys, and all was well with the world…

…so how come I’m still all clenched up inside? Look, Tama (I said to myself, reasonably), you really need to settle down. It’s OK. Deep, calming breaths. Just relax. Let the breath come in, hold briefly, let it go. It’s OOOOOOOOOOOOO-kaaaaaaaaaay. We’re all good here. He’s only a child and he’s not used to a work-at-home parent, and besides, you’re not really mad at him you’re just anxious about the whole situation…ooooohm….oooooohm…..oooooooMY-GOD-BATHROOM-NOW!!!!!!!!!!

Arr, matey, the scurvy germ-bugs have boarded, and worked their way to the poop deck.

It is going to be a very interesting few days around the Den, methinks. A very interesting few days…