Diary of a move, 6: A sick child in the mix, aka How Odd Squad makes a day go by, and Why emojis and hashtags are awesome
/Alright y'all. Last night, I went to the State of the School being hosted by the head of school and the Parents Association. It constituted the social highlight of my past two weeks if you don't count my visit to the 2nd District police station or the meeting with various folks associated with readying my home for the wilds of the DC market.
I came home so happy to watch Downton with T and then dive into bed. The snow days and packing and sick Ol and a shocking trip to the gym had conspired to make me seriously exhausted, and eager beaver is a vast understatement when considering just how to describe my mindset about bedtime last night.
Surely you know where this is headed. Naturally it involves a profound lack sleep, holding my darling boy as he booted responsibly into the toilet, cuddling his feverish-with-chills body until he was able to sleep, Percy barking and then peeing, Nutmeg mewing and then puking, and finally, finding an insane looking Jack pretending to do math at the kitchen table at 5:55am.
Do not even think I believed his protestations, y'all. I am certain he was not actually attempting to do his homework but rather planning to collect his daily gold ration in Clash of Clans or whatever. #momsalwaysknow
Ol stayed home again today, and I admit that I let him watch approximately nine hours of Odd Squad. His brains are probably oozing from his ears right now as he sleeps. I'm likely to find a brain-crusted pillow tomorrow morning (or, who am I kidding, later tonight when that bitchy fever wakes him) because I just decided to let.it.go.
My little bug felt like such crap today, and I really did need to paint the powder room and clean the yard so there you have it. He did learn to count by 3s. #winning #momofyear
I admit to being wholly gaga right now. The room is spinning and I've only had one, much-deserved bourbon. I'm telling y'all, February. #suckmonth
As an aside, can we talk about how much I love hashtags and emojis? It's an emphatic love, a wildly enthusiastic, unadulterated joy love. I adore words and long, flowing sentences, and gorgeous language and all that jazz. But sometimes -think cuss words versus their vanilla kin- you just need/want to make.the.point.
Like, if we were to have another snow day tomorrow, I would definitely text my friend, Annie, the revolver or bomb emoji. No words needed. The picture says everything AND makes you laugh.
If my friend, Anne, and I are gossiping about something, we will text each other a simple train emoji (or, let's be honest, about 90 train emojis, including all varieties of them), to symbolize that we are on the bullet train to hell.
If my friend, Jennie, reminds me of the one story that both nearly got us in trouble AND to this day makes us laugh until we cry, we text the tears-down-the-laughing-face emoji.
And so forth and so on. I mean, just today with my girlfriend, Diara, I used two separate horse emojis and a heart. You cannot say what we meant in three words. Nor should you have to.
I LOVE the freaking emojis, though don't get me started on why there is not a pie emoji. WTF?!
If you cannot tell, I am beyond punchy. I am so damn tired I don't know my name. I best go get the salmon out of the oven and stop eating all the allspice- and cinnamon-roasted butternut squash before T gets home.
