Diva cups, affairs and puke

I have been busy lately. Been up to all kinds of trouble.

First, I bought a diva cup. My friend in another country wanted detailed reports about my trials and tribulations with this product, which I happily sent on to her husband.

Not on purpose, you understand. There is some sort of cyber-glitch with their family email account, and every once in a blue moon (more often lately), he receives emails intended for her.

The emails he occasionally receives seem to amuse him:

I love to hear from you every now and again, but I always think that I’m missing part of the conversation…

But the one about the diva cup caused him some distress, I believe. That, and he concluded (not entirely erroneously) that I’m somewhat demented.

His wife, my friend, thinks I’m having a torrid cyber-affair with him, which is the other thing I’ve been up to lately.

(Not.)

(Because for one thing, they live in Europe.)

I’ve also dealt with puke. The 3yo is, according to herself,

really really really sick and I need to see the doctor!

She puked up undigested spaghetti and meatballs last night, over herself, over me, in my bed, at 2 am.

And then again for a second time.

I decided that a fight with dad about his precious sick child who incessantly chatted about everything that popped into her head while her frazzled parents ran around stripping beds at 2 am was not worth it in the morning concerning whether she was well enough to go to school or not, so I decided to keep both kids home (and let them sleep in).

(Ask me, who slept in today? I dare you…)

I knew instinctively I would regret keeping her home. And then immediately feel guilty about it.

Of course a relaxing morning in pjs while drinking coffee and staring at pukey laundry would have been lovely and all except there is a little vial of pee with a document of vital importance that has to be dropped off at the doctor’s office every morning.

The pee vial made me have to get up and deal with the sleeping-in-till-past-8-o’clock boy, the screetchy girl who insisted that hot chocolate with heart-shaped sprinkles

will NOT make me frow up in my mouf again

…shower, laundry, breakfast and mental activity plans for a house full of kids (there’s only two, but feels more like four), I thought…TGITh.

Because Thursday is one of only two days where no one has an activity in the afternoon.

PS The reason I’m able to type out this post today is because after a full-morning of activities with two kids in tow, namely a trip to Walmart, a local nursery to look at spring flowers, and the aforementioned pee-drop-off situation, complete with incessant chatter and a meltdown over a flat snowball with a carrot in it, she fell asleep. My child who has not napped since before she turned 2, is sleeping in the middle of the day. Daddy’s precious little princess is obviously sick.

Blah

Edited to add: She woke up wet. Peed in the bed. More laundry. Then she reached over her bowl of soup and spilled it all over the table, wood floor, clothes she had just put on not three minutes earlier…After I ladled more soup into her bowl and she ate almost all of it, she announced that

the soup is spicing me in my cheeks and isn’t very good for me.

Boarding school is beginning to look rather appealing.

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2 thoughts on “Diva cups, affairs and puke

  1. The whole diva cup saga still makes me laugh so hard that I cry…

    but my husband is still wondering why he needs to know that you are taking care of your husband’s pee…

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