One of the other 365 Days of the Year

I spoke to a friend today who had looked at the pictures on this blog and commented how lovely and wonderful it all seemed. But she's no dummy; she knows most of life isn't really like pretty pictures of garden beds and fluffy chickies. I said, "Did you read about the day where the big homeschooling lesson was 'sitting on the couch until you can get along with your brother'?" "Yes," she said, "but that's just one day -- and all the others look perfect!!"

So... here it is especially for Keiko: what today was really like, but no pictures to prove it. Too bad though, I had a pretty impressive laundry stack.

When did the day really start? At 2:30, when Manu woke me up to tell me that Peter had thrown up and then that had woken up Zarli too and that he himself was not quite feeling well himself? And my first thought, instead of concern for the welfare of my family, was, "Well, why the heck did you wake me up to tell me about it if it's all fine now??" I didn't say that, but instead grumbled something cranky and sarcastic and then tried in vain to go back to sleep. I lay awake for about an hour and a half (this is the season when the increase in daylight really makes sleep an issue). Then just as I was finally dropping off, some baby started crying. Oh yeah, it was my baby Zarli, and -- true confessions -- I think I played possum. Manu got up, but I was now awake again, and when Zarli cried again awhile later I got up. So then when my alarm went off at 6:30 my motivation to get up and exercise was nil. I turned it off and flopped over. When I finally did get up at I don't know when, Manu was finishing up breakfast with the kids and I arrived on the scene cranky and headachey and headed straight for the Allerest and Sudafed and Flonase. I made coffee and thought about what I could eat with my dairy free, gluten free diet, since I was out of granola. I started to cry because I was hungry and it just felt too hard. I ended up eating a gluten free waffle with jam that Manu put in the toaster for me on the way out the door.

The morning was spent combatting one of those ailments particular to households with small children which shall remain unnamed here, but which makes one have a hankering to actually own a steam cleaner to steam the heck out of anything that isn't moving and to go so far as to research them on Costco.com. Visions of lining the children up and steam cleaning all of them at one go waft through one's conciousness. Since one doesn't have a steam cleaner, one at least finds delight in the "sanitize" cycle on the washer even though it's an hour and half long.

When the machines were full and we'd vacuumed through a large portion of the household I told the kids, "I'm going back to bed, keep your brother alive," and I pulled a stripped comforter onto my stripped bed and curled up applying a hot water bottle to my head, cheek and neck in turns. Marina wondered aloud if the flowers brought yesterday by my dear friend might be bothering my allergies. Ah! Yes, banish them outside.

Anyway, it continued like this. The kids got their own lunch-- maybe they had quesedillas? Fed Zarli and put him down for a nap. Etc. Etc.

Now it's nearly 11 and the machines -- my handmaidens -- are still going and I'm going to bed late. There's more laundry and cleaning to do tomorrow and it's supposed to be our last official day of school. We didn't do anything academic today, except for Peter who read aloud to Evangeline, and I think maybe she practised her recital piece. I think it wafted down to me in bed.

Thankfully tomorrow is another day. But I do wish I had taken a picture of my laundry pile to post.