Skip to main content

All I Wanted

Last week I got the stomach flu. Not the fun kind, not that there is a fun kind of stomach flu but I want to make clear how awful it was. It was the kind that kept me awake most of the night with sharp pain and chills that would sweep over me right before I had to run to the bathroom again. It was the kind where I felt better if I was lying on my cold ugly tile floor of the ensuite bathroom that used to be a closet and I wished still was a closet until Kenneth was born and then I was grateful to have a place far away from his bedroom to pee. And then I only felt marginally better. It was a flu that marred any desire I might have to eat sushi again as that was what I had eaten for dinner. Sushi from Makomae the highest end sushi place in our general vicinity. It had been our eighth (that is strange word construction, eighth) wedding anniversary and we wanted everyone to have a nice dinner and Makomae is higher end than we can usually afford. It was perfect, then while watching John Ford's silent movie classic "Iron Horse" I turned to my husband and said I did not feel well. Things declined from there and it was not my favorite anniversary.
The next morning my husband watched, played with, entertained and fed the kiddo so I could stay in bed until I felt human again. After a morning of fitful rolling around the mattress I got some sleep and began to feel better. I was finally able to finish "Prairie Fires" and start "On Gold Mountain" and drink some gatorade. In the evening my body slowly returned to normal and I thought about how I had prayed for a day fully to myself not long before. I missed being able to lie in bed all day and do nothing in the middle of summer. So the stomach flu brought me one and it was all I wanted. Thank you flu for the anniversary gift, but please just skip me next year. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Good

I got word today that my old coworker is pregnant. This is good. A little background: My first year of teaching was atrocious for two reasons. One being that I am not suited to teaching Kindergarten. The second lay mainly in my working relationship with this woman. She was very particular about how everything must be done, from where the scissors went to making sure the crayon cups were in the right order. While she was upfront about how picky she was, she was also completely inflexible and made it clear I was the one who was going to have to change. I like to think her private motto for me was "That's nice you want to do it that way Megan, but adjust or die." Once she bribed my students with candy. Both classes were there because it was a short day. My kids were sitting at the tables, talking and giggling as they got ready to go home. Hers were being angels on the rug. So, to make a point, she told my kids if they were quiet during dismissal she would give them all candy...
1 comment
Read more

The Shirt

I was going to write chronologically. Forget that. Memory is not chronological and to make it so would require me getting paid to do this. Also today I put on a shirt that is a loaded gun of memories about one student in particular. When he was placed I was told he was a major behavior. He didn't like female teachers, in part due to his own mother's erratic behavior. In fourth grade he practically lived in the office. I had a strategy with kids like this that worked about half the time, give them space. I figured if a student was having a hard time in me class it was my responsibility. With potentially explosive students I would make it my goal to be as non-reactive as possible. Sometimes this worked, but took so much emotional energy I ended up being super reactive with other students in the class. I would learn later how to be a non-reactive teacher in general, but this year was really a teaching class for me. This child taught me the most. I will call him Frank for the...
1 comment
Read more

And

I need to add to the list of things that could incite the world into peace. 3) Tortilla soup. The best I've ever had id a Guasalmex over on Holt. There may be other places that make as good a or better Tortilla Soup. God Bless Them. This soup may have been the only thing my ex-boyfriend and I agreed on. He liked it so much me went home and tried to make it from Campbell's tomato soup. The soup is made fresh each day (this is what the owner says at least, in his best "I'm telling you something very secret and important" tone) from fresh chickens that are stewed with spices and onions until they fall apart. When we asked what they did next we were refused. Whenever I feel sad or angry or lonely or sick this soup cures and comforts. I wish I has a picture to show you just how amazing it is.
1 comment
Read more