OK, before I descend into wild-eyed and ranty digression: The Sweater Formerly Known As Eldest’s came from Dale of Norway Book #147 - guess what? It was done in red for the model!
(Oh, dog-drat it – I just noticed they have a couple new books I don’t own. @*^&@. Must…resist…urge…to…buy…adorable…baby…patterns…!) (Argh. Couldn’t do it. The wee lace jacket was my undoing (scroll down – next to last row).
Being cheap thrifty, I used KnitPicks Merino Style (DK weight) instead of the Dale of Norway Fauk or Heilo. $40-something for the Dale of Norway brand, vs. $22.50 for the KnitPicks. Someday when I win the lottery, I’ll…oh, who am I kidding? For sweaters I know full well are going to be literally dragged through the mud, stuffed under car seats and left behind on the schoolyard, I am not paying $$$$ for the yarn.
I’ll try to get better pictures of it. If I can wrestle it away from Boo Bug. She is seriously marking her turf with that sweater. Fortunately, Eldest has a cabled one she likes that still fits her well, so all three girls are able to go forth into the world wearing sweaters Mommy made for them – otherwise, I might be having a civil war here in the Den.
So.
Can anyone explain why it is that children will sense when you have plans and immediately produce just enough symptoms to stay home from school, but not enough that you can drug them heavily and set them in front of the boob-tube for a few (dozen) hours while you work?
Lessee.
We had…my so-called vacation last month. Preempted by children who were sick enough to stay home, but not sick enough to want to lie around. They wanted to be underfoot. And talking. All day. Just making sure that Mommy doesn’t get to put so much as the edge of a sneaker outside the house for the two precious days she managed to get off.
Then our tenth wedding anniversary, for which we decided pop out for a nice lunch. Then again, staying home with a feverish, coughing child is nice, too. Very cozy. Especially when the child perks up right before lunch and begins pestering you with, “I’m bored. Can I {activity which requires a great deal of parental interaction and/or supervision}?”
Yesterday we said, “Hey, let’s do Le Bistro for a Valentine’s Day lunch!”
Aaaaaaaand Boo Bug got just sick enough this morning to stay home. She woke up pissy and didn’t want to go to school. She began pitching a hissy fit. Sobbing + Coughing = Throwing Up. (We’re not talking about ‘stomach flu’ like vomiting – it’s more like, ‘coughing up a little fluid and then wailing and sobbing about how she threeeeewwwwww uuuuuuuuuuuuup! {sob, sob, screech, sob, SOB, SOB!}’
Damn. She was desperately ill right up until the point where we said oh well, she’s going to have to stay home. At which point she immediately perked right up, announced she felt a lot better, revved up her chatter-box and began making it very, very difficult to concentrate.
And then suddenly she remembered that it was Valentine’s Day and she was supposed to be giving out Valentines to all her little friends at school, and now? She’s all mopey again.
@*^&@.
I know it isn’t really a vile conspiracy, but it sure feels like one sometimes.
I have a lot to do right now on just about every front I’ve got, from housework (oh, joy) to tax preparation (fun and excitement) to the new budget setup (feh) to oh yeah – work-work (bleh).
I don’t want to do any of it.
I’m not in the mood.
Which of course puts me in mind of a scene from Frank Herbert’s Dune: "Mood?" Halleck's voice betrayed his outrage even through the shield's filtering. "What has mood to do with it? You fight when the necessity arises - no matter the mood! Mood's a thing for cattle or making love or playing the baliset. It's not for fighting."
Or for getting the old job done, I guess.
I suppose.
I reckon.
…but I’m still not in the mood for it…
Recipe Tuesday - Blueberry Muffins
5 weeks ago
6 comments:
I feel for you. Almost makes you want do put them on preemptive antibiotics, doesn't it?
My mother always did the "Let's just get ready to go to school and see what you feel like THEN" tactic. We'd almost always either forget we were feeling icky or be out the door, sick as dogs, before we realized what she was up to. Surprisingly enough, I never remember being sent back home by a teacher. The woman even wanted me to go to school when I had the measels and write an exam. Sheesh.
HAD to comment as soon as I saw your post title--good one! (Obviously I'm a fellow Dune fan.)
I could immediately hear Patrick Stewart's version from the movie "Mood is a thing for CATTLE and LOVE-PLAY."
SO sorry you've got kid-sickness AGAIN...it ain't fair and it ain't right and everyone gets stuck with it anyhow.
PS: word verification = VTCETK whic sounds like a good preemptive antibiotic, doesn't it?
What do you mean you're sure it isn't a vile conspiracy? Wake up and smell the nappies! This IS a vile conspiracy. Don't think for a moment that your children aren't plotting all this while you're in the kitchen making fish-sticks!
This is war! Why on earth else do you think we feed them brussel sprouts?
Totally not related to this post, but have you read the Yarn Harlot's blog today? You. Are. In. It. Seriously.
-Sunny
Yeah - jumped over from the Yarn Harlot - sounds like the kids have your number. Take care of yourself - empathize with you falling for the sweater patterns, however.
Yeah...I'm there...the Cave Troll keeps 'seeming' to be better...then he pops a fever, crawls in bed between us, and saturates us with little boy sweat. Romantic? No thanks, that's what got us here.
But it is a conspiracy...you know it is...I think the non-verbal ones just know eye-signals...
And this is the second time someone's quoted Dune to me today--I must re-read it!
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