I Don't Think I'm Doing This Right
Lots of very successful bloggers have created these virtual events called "blog carnivals." This one has "Ten Word Tuesday," another has created "Menu Plan Monday," here's "Wordless Wednesday," and this wonderful person created "Filch it Friday."
I thought that it might be fun to create my own carnival, and, as a bonus, possibly generate some new readers. Tell me what you think!
Without further ado, I give you: Throw Up Thursday.
Here are the rules.
Exercise in 90 degree weather while there's a Code Red air quality advisory, which, to the best of my knowledge, means that if you walk outside and take a deep breath, you will instantly burst into flame.
Develop a skull-splitting, throbbing sensation in the left side of your brain. Assume that you are dehydrated, what with the 90 degree weather and all, and drink a lot of very cold water. Also apply a bag of frozen peas from your mother's freezer to the back of your neck. This won't help, but you'll feel good about being pro-active. Plus, maybe proximity to a green vegetable counts as one of your servings for the day.
Consider the possibility that the headache, which you now realize has turned into a migraine, could be the result of the icy grasp of a former high school teacher, with whom you shared a handshake on the way home from the track. Why were you shaking hands with your teacher? It's simple. Despite the fact that you see her at least once a month, you must constantly re-introduce yourself to her because you were not interesting enough in high school for her to ever remember your name. When she realizes that you are married to TWGH, she says, "Right! TWGH's wife." To which, your blessed and divine mother in law responds, "Yes, but she also has her own identity." Have I mentioned how much I adore my mother in law?
With peas jammed between the headrest and your skull, retrieve one child from day camp. Child is adorable and happy to see you, especially since you had promised her that you would take her out to lunch. To the pizza place she loves, the one with the VW in it, and the Cartoon Network on full blast. And the loud music. And the smell of food. As nausea is now building, this seems less like a good idea than it did at 7 this morning when you promised to take her to make up for the fact that her brother got to go on a zoo field trip and she didn't.
Get home. Take migraine medicine. Install child in front of Sprout with a cookie. Decide you don't really care so much if cookie crumbs end up in your bed or, truth be told, in the clean laundry that is piled like a mountain on your bed.
Throw up migraine medicine. And some other stuff. 'Nuff said.
Try to convince daughter, who is periodically coming in the bathroom to investigate, and ask for more cookies, that all is well.
Take another dose of migraine medicine, with the same effect.
Rest head on cooland completely filthy bathroom tile and wish for quick death. Realize that husband is out of town on business and not likely to be home until late tonight and daughter probably hasn't been properly taught to dial 911. Revise wish for quick death. Vow to properly teach daughter how to dial 911.
Hear strains of Caillou opening song coming from television. Force yourself to get up off floor and hold onto anything left in your stomach. Daughter must not watch Caillou...no matter what it takes. Caillou is a whiny brat. NO CAILLOU.
Daughter reminds you that you promised to take her out to pizza.
Return to bathroom.
Rally yourself, wash your face, brush your teeth, change your clothes, gather child and plastic bags in the event of spontaneous in-the-car vomiting and depart to retrieve other child from summer camp zoo field trip.
Drive to summer camp pick up location. This is a very poor decision, by the way. Clutch plastic bags in sweaty fist during entire drive.
Retrieve tired but lovely child.
Stagger into local (no VW, but come on, I made an effort) pizza joint. Pick up slices to go for children. Clench teeth and try not to breathe through nose. Pizza aroma, usually pleasing, not so much when battling crippling nausea.
Drop children off at in laws. Have I mentioned how much I adore my in laws?
Return home.
Eat lunch. Pictured below.
Take to bed.
Wake inspired by desire to concoct creative and witty not-a-blog carnival.
I thought that it might be fun to create my own carnival, and, as a bonus, possibly generate some new readers. Tell me what you think!
Without further ado, I give you: Throw Up Thursday.
Here are the rules.
Exercise in 90 degree weather while there's a Code Red air quality advisory, which, to the best of my knowledge, means that if you walk outside and take a deep breath, you will instantly burst into flame.
Develop a skull-splitting, throbbing sensation in the left side of your brain. Assume that you are dehydrated, what with the 90 degree weather and all, and drink a lot of very cold water. Also apply a bag of frozen peas from your mother's freezer to the back of your neck. This won't help, but you'll feel good about being pro-active. Plus, maybe proximity to a green vegetable counts as one of your servings for the day.
Consider the possibility that the headache, which you now realize has turned into a migraine, could be the result of the icy grasp of a former high school teacher, with whom you shared a handshake on the way home from the track. Why were you shaking hands with your teacher? It's simple. Despite the fact that you see her at least once a month, you must constantly re-introduce yourself to her because you were not interesting enough in high school for her to ever remember your name. When she realizes that you are married to TWGH, she says, "Right! TWGH's wife." To which, your blessed and divine mother in law responds, "Yes, but she also has her own identity." Have I mentioned how much I adore my mother in law?
With peas jammed between the headrest and your skull, retrieve one child from day camp. Child is adorable and happy to see you, especially since you had promised her that you would take her out to lunch. To the pizza place she loves, the one with the VW in it, and the Cartoon Network on full blast. And the loud music. And the smell of food. As nausea is now building, this seems less like a good idea than it did at 7 this morning when you promised to take her to make up for the fact that her brother got to go on a zoo field trip and she didn't.
Get home. Take migraine medicine. Install child in front of Sprout with a cookie. Decide you don't really care so much if cookie crumbs end up in your bed or, truth be told, in the clean laundry that is piled like a mountain on your bed.
Throw up migraine medicine. And some other stuff. 'Nuff said.
Try to convince daughter, who is periodically coming in the bathroom to investigate, and ask for more cookies, that all is well.
Take another dose of migraine medicine, with the same effect.
Rest head on cool
Hear strains of Caillou opening song coming from television. Force yourself to get up off floor and hold onto anything left in your stomach. Daughter must not watch Caillou...no matter what it takes. Caillou is a whiny brat. NO CAILLOU.
Daughter reminds you that you promised to take her out to pizza.
Return to bathroom.
Rally yourself, wash your face, brush your teeth, change your clothes, gather child and plastic bags in the event of spontaneous in-the-car vomiting and depart to retrieve other child from summer camp zoo field trip.
Drive to summer camp pick up location. This is a very poor decision, by the way. Clutch plastic bags in sweaty fist during entire drive.
Retrieve tired but lovely child.
Stagger into local (no VW, but come on, I made an effort) pizza joint. Pick up slices to go for children. Clench teeth and try not to breathe through nose. Pizza aroma, usually pleasing, not so much when battling crippling nausea.
Drop children off at in laws. Have I mentioned how much I adore my in laws?
Return home.
Eat lunch. Pictured below.
Take to bed.
Wake inspired by desire to concoct creative and witty not-a-blog carnival.
1.) I'm totally envious of you for your in-laws. Mine suck in so many ways, I can't even describe it.
2.) Damn you. I was going to write about how friggin' whiney that little prick Caillou is. And why is he bald? And what the hell kind of name is Caillou? It sound like something Gwyneth Patrow would name her kid.
Reply to this
Oh, you poor thing. I hope you're feeling much better by now. Migraines are the worst. My son has had chronic migraines since the age of three. I fought with our insurance company for months to get them to cover injectable Ketorolac because oral migraine meds make no sense when the patient is nauseated.
Reply to this
What a crappy day. I have had migraines since I was 15 or so, and they are the worst. Hope you're feeling better now.
Reply to this
With my occupation I spend many hours working outdoors in the summer heat, and I think just the smell of pizza after sweating out 3 gallons of water (oh yes, exaggerate I do not - I call these days "shirt-wringers" for a reason) would give my convulsive dry heaves. Gimme a nice chunk of watermelon, a banana, an apple, some raw veggies or something. But not hot, greasy food.
I tip my barf bucket to you for toughing it out, getting 'za for the kids despite needing a plastic bag backup plan. AND, going to the trouble of setting up props for a blog photo shoot for the kicker.
Reply to this
YIKES! Sounds awful!
PS- Bug Boy goes to the same camp, it seems. I had no idea!
Reply to this
Poor Hostess -- hope you're feeling better today!
Reply to this
Please tell me you're going to write a book sometime?!? I swear I'll buy it. ... babs
Reply to this