On Friday, we signed a contract on a new house. And so it began.
On Monday, we officially put our current home on the market. Which meant that Jim and I spent the weekend making our house as it’s never been before and likely never will be again. We cleaned and straightened and pruned and mulched and basically dispensed with (or simply hid) seven years’ worth of clutter. The house is now spotless and arranged exactly as it was always meant to be, if only in my own head. Even Lil’ Bit’s previously Hoarders-esque dollhouse, with all its furniture crammed into one room, is perfectly staged in an eerie Stepford-like reflection of our own domain. This? Is not real life.
We even went so far as to rip out two overgrown bushes from our front flower beds – an act which we followed up by admiring the lovely curb appeal it created to the point of questioning whether we really wanted to move. (And then our white trash neighbor across the street fired up his big, junky truck and we decided yes… yes we did.)
And somewhere along the line, I pulled a muscle in my back. It could have happened during the yardwork, but more likely occurred while I was sleeping because that’s how people my age tend to throw out their backs. At least this time it didn’t happen while I was making the bed. But I digress…
On Monday afternoon, I discovered a bumpy, red, and slightly blistered rash along both forearms that could either be poison ivy or leprosy. Except it doesn’t itch, so let’s just go with leprosy. Although technically, I suppose it could just be your average run-of-the-mill allergic reaction from working amid prickly, overgrown bushes for two days. Regardless, it’s kind of freaking me out.
On Monday evening, I broke down and took a muscle relaxer for my sore back. Soon afterward, Lil’ Bit announced that her tummy hurt. And also her mouth. And then, clutching both stomach and jaw, she began to moan in a way that sent my vomit phobia into overdrive. And that’s when the incoherent ramblings to my husband began: Do you think she’s going to throw up? I think she might throw up. Do you think she will? I hope she doesn’t throw up. But I think she might. I don’t know. What do you think?
In the end, she did not blow chunks and we chalked it up to a bad case of gas. And maybe a canker sore.
Nevertheless, as I googled “Can my child get Hand, Foot & Mouth Disease more than once” while trying [unsuccessfully] to keep all thoughts of potential norovirus scenarios at bay, my Internet went out.
And then, amid the drug-induced haze of my muscle relaxer, a great deal of vomit-induced anxiety, and the temporary loss of my worldwide web, in what shall henceforth be known as the Scarlett O’Hara Trifecta of “I Can’t Think About That Now, I’ll Think About That Tomorrow,” I learned the stunning news that I had been named one of BlogHer’s 2013 Voices of the Year in the humor category for my parental prayer for potty training in the digital age.
(But then “tomorrow” came and I still hadn’t processed this unexpected development, though I remain honored by it – truly.)
More alarmingly, Lil’ Bit’s stomach pains have continued. And yet even amid a few curve balls, we’re preparing to head south in the coming days, first to Richmond for an old-fashioned 4th of July pool day and cookout with friends, and then on to the Outer Banks for a week-long beach vacation. And so on top of everything else, I’ve been washing and folding laundry and packing clothes and other sundry items. Not coincidentally, I’ve also been drinking a fair amount of wine.
All of this is to say I could certainly use a vacation. And provided we get Lil’ Bit’s mysterious stomach ailment figured out, I plan to enjoy the crap out of this one. So, if I’ve already been taking full advantage of my recent decision to unplug and take a step back from blogging, then I’ll be damn near going off the grid completely for the next few weeks.
So. With that said, I’ll be seeing you on the flip side. And may you enjoy a safe and happy Independence Day.
How’s your summer been treating you?