After tearing out our old fridge with the help of our neighbor last night, we sipped beers with him and talked until the wee hours–that’s 11:30 for us parents–about God, Catholicism, Judaism, Buddhism, and martial arts. He’s one of the brightest people I’ve ever known, and bound for the priesthood, so he’s well versed in the topics at hand. It was a great night up until he left, when Mama said, “I’m going to throw up tonight.”
As the evening had worn on, she had been feeling worse, until she was stuck on the couch, floating in a sea of queasiness. She did make it to bed, but sure enough, at 0’dark-thirty this morning, she did get sick. Ugh. Poor Mama.
We’re pretty sure this is the reprise of what made 3B barf at midnight earlier this week, which prompted a funny line from him as we were tearing off his sheets and pajamas since he had apparently barfed and then rolled over in it. He pointed to the barf on one sleeve and said, “Yucky.” So that’s why you rolled over in it, then?
But then, it was heartbreaking to hear a new sentence from him as he sat in only his diaper after I’d washed him off with a washcloth. Even though the washcloth was warm, he looked up at me and said plaintively, “Feel cold.” I’m certain that I’ve never gotten pajamas on him so quickly.
The next morning he requested baby food carrots for breakfast, which he gave back essentially unchanged onto the dining room carpet approximately five minutes later. Lovely.
While 3B seemed to bounce back pretty quickly, Mama was knocked out all day today. We missed 3B’s final swim lesson so I could walk Barky–and 3B, since I’m on 24/7 Daddy duty–and stay close to home in case Mama needed something. We got back in time to take delivery of our new fridge and pantries. Since it’s all from IKEA, that means that I had to set up the fridge, including reversing the doors, and now I have three pantries to construct and install. Also, since someone at IKEA screwed up the paperwork, we now have two refrigerators, since IKEA never told the delivery company that they had been contracted to pick up the old fridge.
So, if you need a beer and you’re sitting in the recliner in the living room, you don’t even have to get up. On the other hand, if you want to get anywhere in our house, don’t plan on going there in a straight line.
The three of us stooges then went back to the playground, which was like Times Square on New Year’s Eve for whatever reason. Despite the crush of short, stumbling, screaming humanity, 3B did manage to get in five sessions on the swings, which is all he wanted to do. His singular desire meant that I managed to get five screaming sessions in my ear–one each time I had to separate him from his beloved. We followed that up with a dog park visit, which was splendid fun for everyone.
Then it was home, dinner, bath, a spot of milk, books, and bedtime. And now I’m sitting here, bone-tired, wondering how Mama does this every day of the week and if maybe these pantries are the self-inflating kind.