Disjointed, very non-sequiter-like

Every time I click on my Blogger Dashboard link, it makes me think of Paradise by the Dashboard Light (and yes, I have downloaded that). Who knew an LP with only seven songs on it could sell so big? (though I guess with three of the songs over 8 minutes, only seven would fit on a standard cassette tape)

I said good-bye to Hilger House this weekend. When Leo wouldn't give it a definite "no", I started thinking it might be a possibility. But our financial advisor thought it was a bit out of our reach. We knew it was a little out of our price range, but wanted to wait and see if they'd lower the price. Turns out, they'd have to lower it a lot for us to truly be able to afford it (and not have to depend on hand-me-downs for the kids the rest of their lives, and still be able to buy chai once in a while, and perhaps even be able to buy some new furniture to match the nice house). But I did see it one more time. We were out looking at other houses this weekend. My parents were with us, so we thought we'd drive by to give them a look at it. And there was an Open House! I had to go in. It was just as wonderful as the first time we saw it, maybe more so. I even saw things I hadn't noticed the first time (a laundry chute! original old-fashioned keys for some of the doors! a built-in breadbox in the kitchen!). I visited every room one last time, sighed, and said good-bye.

Today was a sucky day. We've been getting new floor laid in the public rooms (which is how I refer to the kitchen, living room, and dining room). I am generally protective of the privacy of my home, and I knew having people I barely know, if at all, come in and spend several days here installing these floors would be potentially very stressful. Yesterday we managed by going to the Children's Museum. Today, since they got the dining room done yesterday, I figured we could move the sofa and TV in there, take a few toys, and hang out there while they worked on the other rooms. That was fine for a couple of hours, and then they had to move other furniture in there, and it was not a place that felt fun to hang out in. It was getting stressful for me again, so I took the kids to Applebee's for lunch, and then we headed to the library for a couple of hours. The good part about this was that Aislinn fell asleep in the car on the way to the library and actually stayed asleep when I put her in the stroller. This kid, she's so different from her sister. So she napped while Audrey played a computer game and I browsed for a while. Then a kindergarten buddy of Audrey's showed up with her babysitter, so we hung out with them for a while before heading home. The house was still chaos. The kids and I retreated to my bed, though Audrey finally left for her bed after two minutes of me telling her to hush so Aislinn could fall asleep. When I woke up shortly before 5, Audrey was climbing back in bed with me, her jacket on. She was cold she said. Odd. She went to sleep. Aislinn woke up. I played with her, turned on the TV in our room hoping to find something, realized the antenna (we don't have cable) had been moved to another small TV, the one we'd put in the dining room this morning. I went out to try to grab that antenna and realized...furniture had been moved back into reasonable positions. I grabbed the baby gate and was about to put it up, when one of the handyman guys (a couple of Chinese guys that work for Leo's realtor boss) said to me in Chinese, wait a minute. They wanted to move the sofa back into the living room. All the better. So I wait, holding Aislinn all this time, and then I hear Audrey calling me. I thought she was afraid from some of the tool noises, but it turns out she was about to throw up. We were all the way on the other side of the house from our only bathroom (reason #1395 we need to move), and did not want to get up. Wanted me to bring her the barf bowl. So I ran, still with Aislinn on my hip, towards the kitchen.

I did not slip on the newly installed laminate. No, I did not. What I did do was trip on the flap of carpet not yet pulled up in the kitchen (carpet in the kitchen being reason #534 we need to move), Aislinn still in my arms. I pitched forward, both knees hitting (and now sporting bruises). I caught Aislinn's back with my right hand, but the back of her head still hit the floor. It was the only time in the past couple of years I have been thankful for the carpet in the kitchen. I was horrified, but she was fine, and I was still freaking out, trying to find a bowl for Audrey to puke in. The workers heard me trip and came in (I figured they would scold me for falling with the baby in the way that Chinese tend to do). I ignored them. I was frantic. One of my kids was puking, and the other was wailing because her mommy had just fallen down with her and bonked her head on the floor. I finally found a bowl, ran back to the bedroom, to find Audrey already catching chunks in her hands. It had been so forceful, it was also all over her face and in her hair. Poor baby. Poor babies! She had not finished being sick, so the bowl was not in vain.

By now, my adrenaline had been used up and I was almost crying. I called Leo and told him I needed him home as soon as possible (and he still had to get food to bring home for us, because the kitchen was unusable). Audrey had to sit with puke on her face for a full ten minutes before I was composed enough to go out and get a washcloth to clean her up. Aislinn remained in my arms for another 10 minutes before I persuaded Audrey to move to the living room where the room had finally, FINALLY been set aright. I closed the baby gates, and was going to argue with the first person who tried to tell me in Chinese to wait another minute, but I didn't need to worry. I got another bowl, and it was a good thing, because before too long, Audrey was getting sick again. Now the guys understood why I was acting like a crazy woman. But at least I could put down the baby, who by now had recovered from her bump on the head and was frantic to get down and run around.

The suckiness gets worse: last week we got a letter from the principal of Audrey's school, informing us she had missed over seven days of school (it was actually 8), which warranted a letter of warning, a copy of which would be put in her permanent record. Excuse me? The first six days she was sick, she had chickenpox. The letter was threatening us with a meeting with a truant officer if she missed two more days. It requested a written explanation of "possible medical reasons" Audrey may have missed school so far. That was the last straw. Not only had I called the school, as required, every time Audrey was sick, not only had I written her a note of excuse, as required, every time she returned, but I also put exactly how she was sick in every note. Chickenpox. Puking. Fever of 103. Already documented.

Whatever. I wrote the letter, giving the reason for her three seperate PERIODS of absence, and then expressed my frustration at receiving the letter from the school. I explained that Audrey was not particularly prone to illness, but it is flu season. Kindergartners in particular are getting exposed to lots of new bugs for the first time. I wrote that if she did get sick again, I would no doubt be worrying and debating whether she was indeed sick enough.

That was last week. Our family rule for missing school is fever and/or throwing up. Audrey had both tonight. Tomorrow I could easily justify keeping her home, but I'm probably going to have to send her if she doesn't have a fever and doesn't throw up before it's time to go.

If she throws up at school, I hope it's in the principal's office.