Crabby Tales From The Crypt(ic)

I’m sick of sick people.

I see them when I look in the mirror. They are in my bed. They are whining, clingy, needy, lazy, pathetic, dejected, and smelly. And that’s just me.

Grizzly is far worse…….no, really. He missed all of last week except Monday (I mean, I did too unless you count cooking and waiting on people and cleaning.) He tried to go to work Friday but didn’t make it and came home. He was a positive invalid all weekend. He tried to go to work on Monday but came home again in dire straits. The stomach portion of this virus attacked him within an hour of reporting for work. He is better this afternoon and evening. And I think he plans on going to work tomorrow. Please, Lord, let him be WELL.

Surely it must be. I cannot live in this frat house a moment longer. I can barely write or educate my child. I can’t keep anything cleaned up or put away. Forget laundry. I’m wearing my underwear inside out. Shoot, I'm wearing his underwear inside out. I'm the lone cook and bottle washer. Bo is gone for all intents and purposes except on weekends, The Wild Man is only now making his full recovery, and I am possibly, this evening, finally feeling as though I might be able to stop the barking seal imitation. Though a lot of good it’s done me. No one has even thrown me a fish. That might be too much like cooking!

Do I sound testy to you?

I am desperate for cleanliness. I am insane with the sound of opening and closing drawers, refrigerator doors, pantries, cupboards, laptops, and vitamin bottles. EVERY DRAWER IN MY HOUSE SQUEAKS ON ITS RUNNERS and has for YEARS. (Oh my good glory. The junk drawer just opened and closed for the 780th time since I’ve been writing.) And no one gets anything out and puts it away. NO ONE.

(I’m running away to wherever this chick is. Scoot over, Betty, and pass the “Lucosade,” if that’s what we’re calling it. And by the way, how’d you get THIS gig? I need lessons.)

Perhaps I should mention that I’m also worried I might be a vampire.

No, I have no taste for blood. But I also have no reflection. I couldn’t have. I don’t see Grizzly hovering by my side of the bed asking about my health, offering water, feeling my head, imploring me to eat well, to rest. I’m positive that must be due to my invisibility. Nothing else would make the least sense. A lone flower would change my life. One cup of soup that I didn’t prepare myself might send me into paroxysms of rapture Scarlett O’Hara couldn’t have adequately dramatized.

Oh, yes. I know I’m having a pity party. It’s the only socializing I’m up to. But don’t worry. I’ll do all the work and clean up after myself. It’s what I do!

Copyright 2009

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The Feverish Mind

Sickness gave me time to gaze out the window.

Summer’s Tantrum

Summer has been a petulant child
refusing to loose its grip on the heat
of scorching sun.
It bullies the breeze and keeps billowy clouds hiding
in mountain shadows.

Summer will not let Autumn play.

But today, watching green leaves bounce in the wake
of a stealthy gust
I witness the Relentless lift its head
draw breath
and heave a sullen sigh.

Promised glimmers of hue and glow are heralded
on the stage of memory.
A timid cloud scurries across the sky and
escorts me toward my seat
to watch the scene unfold.

Autumn will have her way.

~Robynn (Copyright 2009)

Painting by John Everett Millais

1829-1896

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A Father's Heart

As I bark and cough at the monitor I’m gazing into, I find myself deplorably lacking in humor. I also apologize for not visiting around. I know you will understand when I tell you we are laid up and laid out. I hope I can at least offer a breath of inspiration. Be glad I'm not there to breathe anything else on you.

The father in this video is beyond my realm of personal experience or comprehension. He is the polar opposite of what I witnessed. The same is true for some of you, I know. I’ve read the posts and felt the pain you have endured. Others of you will recognize this dad in a heartbeat because you have (or had) one with the same heart, or you ARE a dad who loves at this level. I can’t tell you what happiness and hope that gives me. I smile with each story of love, humor, and sacrifice. So, you’ll forgive me if I steer you to this meaningful piece while I go toast it with a nod to my cough medicine.

Dick Hoyt is a shining example of what it means to have the heart of Christ. The media never fail to portray Christians in an unfavorable light and frankly, we sometimes do a pretty good job shooting ourselves – or others - in the foot. But the real thing? A person with a true heart for God and people? Now that is a lovely thing to look upon.

An excerpt from an article about this father/son team has this to say, “When asked if he has questioned God why his son has had to undergo such difficulties, Dick is philosophical. ‘We don’t know why,’ he says. ‘We didn’t dwell on why. I believe God has used Rick to help others. He’s been a pioneer. Any time someone wants to try something new, they go to Rick because he’s got the patience and personality to handle everything. He understands their frustrations and hopes.” To read the full article go here: http://www.southerngospel.com/Family/Parenting/1271755/

Copyright 2009

The Swine Flu. Remember This Guy?

We’re pretty sure he’s visiting us.

What I thought was food poisoning for The Wild Man last week may have actually been the swine flu. Apparently, it is not unusual for kids to develop stomach issues along with this virus. I took him to the doctor yesterday after a week of this and he has upper respiratory involvement as well which wasn’t even detectable amid all the other symptoms. After hours searching through websites and the CDC and NIH about swine flu I discovered this:

Kids often have stomach involvement with diarrhea. A small percentage of adults may experience this as well.

You can have the swine flu and not have a fever, though TWM had a heck of a fever. That was an extremely baffling component of the outbreak in Mexico. They had people testing positive for H1N1 who were sick but had no fevers.

It can manifest itself differently in different individuals. At Bo’s college they had five kids test positive the first day. One left in an ambulance and others were mildly ill.

Monday, it took me about three hours to develop a horrid cough. Grizzly came home from work with the exact same symptoms. We literally got sick within one hour of each other. He spiked a high fever and looked like he was going to die. Had he gotten any more cantankerous, I might have accommodated him. We sound like a TB ward around here with all the coughing and hacking but I am less sick than he is. I just feel like a Mac truck hit me and want to lay down every minute and sleep. But we eat VERY well, take our vitamins, and are showing some signs of improvement today.

You can’t avoid this thing entirely. But you can eat well and take care of yourself so if it comes to visit, it doesn’t feel welcome to stick around. I can’t help you with your relatives.

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Copyright 2009

Observational Twitter 21

Famous Quote:

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them.~Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare

Obscure Quotes:

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them by people who claim they would do it but it isn’t their job.

There are no control freaks……only people who have to take over when everybody else drops the ball. ~Robynn’s Ravings

(And don’t be thinkin’ I’m talkin’ about myself. I don’t like control freaks and I’m makin’ it my business to do something about ‘em. Nobody else will!)

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Copyright 2009

GoD and DoG

Once in awhile you find something that weaves its way into your heart and you know it will never leave.

A friend sent it to me by email and I've watched it ten times. I'll watch it ten more. And I'll never look at Minky and JoJo, my two beloved dogs, the same way. She put to words and music what I knew as a dog lover. But I would never be able to say it like she does.

Click http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H17edn_RZoY to watch it. There's something wrong with the embedding code or I'd post it here. Run time is less than two minutes.

The creator of this beauty is Wendy Francisco at http://www.godanddog.org/

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I Can’t Hear You

I was an excellent parent before I had children.

My theories were sound and my rhetoric plentiful. I knew exactly what you should do with your children and why. Your missteps were easily identifiable and with simple grit, determination, and sage advice from me, all could be rectified in short order.

Mothers who allowed their children to run the grocery store aisles confounded and irritated me. More baffling still was the mother who refused to answer her demanding, persistent, or wailing offspring.

One of these moments is burned into my brain. I was standing in a Von’s supermarket trying to make a decision about a product when a persistent three-year-old began to harangue his harried mother.

“Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy”……..for Five. Whole. Minutes., all the while alternately yanking on his mother's shirt, shorts, hair, face, and possibly eyeballs.

She never changed expression. She continued to gaze vacantly at the store shelves. I wanted to look into her hanging eyeballs and inquire, “Why don’t you just answer him!! Say ‘Yes!’ or say ‘Mommy has left the building!’ but say something!” This is because I presumed she heard him.

Then I became a mother.

Slowly dawn broke, or fractured, in my psyche and I knew that if I answered every single “Mommy!” I would cease to have one nano-second for a quiet thought within my head. I would never make decisions or know what I thought because there would be no time for thoughts. Cue the birth of selective hearing.

It is based in pitch and tone, and has little to do with volume. We mothers make symphony conductors look like wimps. We can detect the slightest variation in our precious progeny’s modulation and multi-layered rhythms. We know what sounds signal impending disaster or genuine need. Our ears are unaffected by run-of-the-mill keening. It’s not that we ignore it willingly. We simply do not hear it. We can’t, if we are to remain sane. And sanity is a nurturing benefit in a mother.

Maybe we are being cruel to be kind. In the right measure.

Now, you might say, manage your child so they don’t DO all this whining and haranguing. And your theory would be correct. And you would be right to say so. The problem is, we can’t hear you. (You just have to watch this. It's only about 45 seconds but sums it up perfectly.)

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Copyright 2009