I had a migraine all weekend long, and was busy trying to find the cure for cancer, and it has made me a very boring blogger. Sorry about that.
Despite my growing headache on Saturday morning, I was nice enough to take the kids to the Orchestra thing Big Kid loves so much.
Although both kids were excellent and enjoyed themselves, the last fucking thing you want to hear while you're coming down with a migraine is a tuba. A TUBA.
That's not even the worst part. We walked in and got situated on our little carpet mats on the floor and moments later I notice this grandma frantically wiping her 3 year old grandson down with wet wipes. An usher comes over and I hear the old lady say that her grandson had yogurt with strawberries on top before leaving the house, and he had just coughed a little up.
Um, no. Three year olds generally don't spit up. When people cough, stuff doesn't normally come out. His pants and sock were stained red. Homeboy puked. For sure.
I prayed that the usher would somehow deal with it, but I guess she believed the coughing story. The show was starting right then and moving would only cause a commotion and I knew Big Kid would freak if he knew there was puke in the room, so I was stuck there.
Then, the freaking tuba starts playing and the poor little puke boy presses his face into his grandma's chest. She overly-cheerfully told him not to be scared, it's just the tuba! as she pulled him away and forced him to clap. He was pale and listless...kid was sick! Sorry you just dropped $24, lady, but it's time to call it a day and go home. But nooooo, I had to sit three carpet mats away and smell the tangy scent of kid puke as my ears were assaulted by the brass section.
At least my kids had fun.
Sunday we finished painting the bunk beds, and I made a french bulletin board (the kind with fabric and ribbon) for the desk section and we set them up in the boys' room. It looks really good, I'll post before and after pics one of these days. I swear.
That's my exciting weekend in a nut shell. I feel like I accomplished a lot for feeling so cruddy.
Today, Big Kid had an emotional breakdown after school because he had released his butterfly (Fluffy) that he raised in class and was holding his sadness in all day long about it. It was sad and sweet and a little bit funny, there was probably some blogging gold in there, but after 40 minutes of hearing him cry about it (and my head still hurt), I was sorry he had ever met Fluffy the Butterfly.
I mean, I felt for him and all...but only for about the first 20 minutes.