If I had a crystal ball

If I had a crystal ball (which, at this point, I might consider selling my soul to Satan for one), I would have been able to save myself quite a bit of anxiety and frustration on this little vacation of ours (which, by the way, is still going strong tripping along pathetically).

There are so many things that I wish I could have known. So much might have been different.

If I had a crystal ball, I would have been able to see that two days after arriving in Utah, Hannah would come down with strep throat. I would have seen that Utah is a one-horse town when it comes to health plans, and even though my insurance is perfectly willing to pay them, the urgent care clinic will refuse to bill on my behalf. I would have saved myself the headache and just paid the $250 they wanted in cash, rather than spending three hours in search of a doctor that WOULD bill our insurance.

I would also have been a little more insistent in not letting her play with her cousins, and making her get some rest. Even if she said she felt fine.

If I had done that, then maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't have GOTTEN STREP AGAIN.

Yes, I know.

And maybe if we'd known, she wouldn't have thrown up all over my mother-in-law's floor in the middle of the night, a mere 12 hours after the Husband and I left for San Diego (or at least Oma would have had that bowl ready). And then maybe she wouldn't have laid around feverish and pukey at my mother's house for the next two days - contagious, and spreading her germs like wildfire.

And if I had that crystal ball, I might not have had to leave my gorgeous five-star resort in San Diego to come home a day early. It certainly would have predicted that I'd be spending the night on my mother's couch, next to Chase and Hannah, waking up groggily to the sound of their coughs, feverish chills, and sprints to the bathroom.

The crystal ball would have told me that THEY BOTH HAD STREP, and advised me to take the third child to the clinic at the same time as the other two, even though he seemingly had no symptoms. It would have also told me that at the EXACT MINUTE I get home from the two-hour wait at the urgent care with Chase and Hannah, poor McKay would be moaning, groaning, and complaining of the same symptoms as the others.

And that second trip BACK to the urgent care? It would have been nice to know that once we waited for another two hours, his strep test was going to still come back negative.

And then, two days later, after McKay has rebounded, he would wake up at four in the morning, puking his guts out. Yes, in hindsight, it would have been nice to foresee that.

You know, at the very least, for my brother Craig, who was generously chaperoning the cousin sleepover in the backyard tent.

I'll bet he would have liked the warning to move his sleeping bag out of the way.

I could be wrong, but I don't think so.

So yesterday, as I was hauling McKay into a doctor's office for what would be our FIFTH clinic visit during this supposed vacation, I find myself pining and wishing for that crystal ball.

Because, armed with the knowledge of what this trip would turn into, I just might have jumped on the nearest train.

And never even looked back.

Wait...is it still to late to do that?

A letter to my government

Dearest Federal Government:

Today, on the day in which you see the need to take half of my soul in taxes, I would like to make a plea.

If you must steal 35 percent of my husband's hard-earned money, can you please not spend it on wasteful things, as you have in the past? You know, like when you spent $13 million to help fund the World Toilet Summit in Ireland?

Oh, yes they did.

And you think that's the least offensive thing? Take a look at this.

Don't even ask me to pretend to understand it.

I ask you, good sirs, to take my money and do something good with it. Like fixing health care. Or making our schools safe, productive environments of learning.

Those kinds of things I get, and will unclasp this fist from my dollars a little less begrudgingly for.

Much obliged,

Stie

A bit of complaining, if I may

Let's just say you've had a really bad week:

All the traveling your husband has done the last several months has caught up to you.

You've got severe pain in one of your feet and you have no idea why.

Your skin is bleeding, it's so dry. And you moisturize ALL.THE.TIME.

You've been a really good girl and somehow managed to gain four pounds overnight.

You clean your house every day, and still it is a mess.

You foolishly cut your own bangs and they look absolutely horrible.

You cry for an hour on the phone to your husband about how frustrated and tired you are.

And as if that all wasn't enough?

YOU WAKE UP AND TODAY IS A SNOW DAY.

Heaven help me. Something has gotta give.

And the green cloud of doom wins

Today has been anything but boring. Several things have happened, each in their turn, and they have all caused me to pause and reflect. I am trying to weigh the pros and cons of each event in order to help determine if any positivity can come out of them. Play along, won't you?

Today, I was able to:

Vote in my state's primary election.
Pros: I feel like a productive member of society who has a right to complain when I don't like who is in office, especially if her name happens to rhyme with Zillary Flinton.

Cons: My vote probably won't make a difference. Sorry, Mitt.
_____________________________
I went to help in Hannah's class today.
Pros: I get to feel like an active, attentive parent and spend time with my daughter.

Cons: I get to see firsthand all the sniffles, sneezes, and coughs filling the air like a thick, green cloud of doom.
_____________________________
I got called an hour after helping in Hannah's class to come pick her up because she was running a 103-degree fever.
Pros: I would not be going to Cub Scouts tonight.

Cons: I would get to spend the evening holding a feverish, whimpering child who is miserable and sad, instead of touring the firehouse with my den and staring at the strong, handsome men in their uniforms, which I love to do.
_____________________________
I spent the remainder of the afternoon in the doctor's office.
Pros: None. Are you kidding me?

Cons: Three kids in the waiting room of the doctor's office? Enough said.
_____________________________
The doctor determined that Hannah has a virus and prescribed three to five days of rest, fluids, and children's Motrin.
Pros: None.

Cons: We can look forward to three to five days of feverish, whimpering sadness. More if the green cloud of doom passes from person-to-person, as it frequently likes to do.
_____________________________
Due to the aforementioned sick child, I was forced to cancel a day of planned self-indulgent appointments for myself tomorrow.
Pros: I am saving my husband some money, and that always makes him happy.

Cons: No shopping, browsing, mani/pedi, or movie day for me.
____________________________

I think the cons have it. Looks like a sucky day, today and tomorrow.

Blah.

My most embarrassing moment

When we moved to Boston in September of 2001, my boys were very young. McKay was two-and-a-half, and Chase had just turned one. With the husband already there working, I needed some extra help with the cross-country flight and solicited the ever-willing and long-suffering Marta for the job.

Other than a karma-destroying incident on the airplane (which I won't speak of here), the flight was pretty uneventful. When we arrived in Boston, we found out that our moving truck would be several days late. We had nothing to do. And two active boys that had already watched "The Fishy Show" [A.K.A. The Little Mermaid] about 9,654 times. So we decided to go sightseeing.

I had always wanted to go to Salem and see the sights, especially Nathanial Hawthorne's House of Seven Gables. It was about a 20-minute tour, and seemed doable with two adults to handle the boys.

Oh. If ONLY I had known.

Our tour began in the small, cramped living room of the House. While the tour guide was giving a background on the illustrious Nathanial Hawthorne, I noticed a peculiar stench. No, it was not the musky, moldy scent of a 400 year old house. That would have been pleasant in comparison.

The smell was coming from Chase's diaper.

I panicked, but knew that if I took him out to change it, we would lose our spot on the tour and not be able to get back. I figured it was only 20 minutes. He'd be okay, right? Sure, it's embarrassing, but what are you going to do?

Colossal mistake of huge proportions.

Right about that time, the tour guide was letting us know that all the artifacts in the home are original and so delicate that flash photography was not allowed, in order to preserve the authenticity of the historic house. I glanced down and noticed McKay pulling the curtains over his head.

Oh, this probably isn't good. I ought to pick him up and just carry him, I thought.

As I reached down to scoop him up into my arms, he gave those curtains a mighty tug, and snapped the built-in curtain rod RIGHT OFF THE WALL. You know, the one Nathanial probably BUILT HIMSELF.

So I'm trying to hold this wiggly child, and at the same time, I've got Nathanial Hawthorne's curtains on top of my head. I'm pulling the curtains off and I hear the tour guide yell, "STOP EVERYTHING! NOBODY MOVE. STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE!"

I lift the curtains up sheepishly to face the angry and annoyed looks from the other people on our tour. By now, Chase's stench is stifling any and all remaining life out of the room.

The tour guide returns with the head of the museum and they begin to study the broken curtain rod to determine any restitution I would have to make. Poor Marta is holding the toxic-smelling Chase. McKay is wiggling and squirming to try and get out of my arms. My cheeks are hot and flushed, and the tears are threatening to spill over at any moment. Every eye in the room is glaring at me.

They finally decide that they will not make me pay for the damages and suggest in a less-than-friendly tone that we leave the tour.

Which we did.

Running and crying as fast as we could.

So the House of Seven Gables now has blinds where curtains once stood. My son has the lifelong honor of knowing he defaced a National Historic Landmark. I was shamed beyond anything I have ever known - before or since.

And I will fully understand if Marta never, ever wants to have children.

Top that, if you can.