I have to get up very early tomorrow to drive an hour and a half to Girl Scout camp where I will herd a dozen fourth grade girls for a day. It's just me and my mom leading that group Monday. Luckily she's a nurse, so if anyone needs an epipen I'm delegating.
Why did I agree to do this? Oh yeah, because my niece (going into 6th grade and co-supervising the younger kids) told me I had to and promised me it was her last year. I asked her if she knew how to change diapers yet. Favors for favors, kid.
The fourth graders aren't so bad, though. They are independent enough to not need too much help, and still compliant enough to be easy to herd. I had Derrick help me fold up little...um, I don't know what they're called...the internet says "cootie catchers"...for swaps. (Everyone has little craft things that they make and bring to trade and pin on.)
Hopefully I won't puke. Today was good, but Saturday I threw up every single thing I ate. I'm chalking that up as a fluke since that hasn't happened before with that intensity (and I'm supposed to be done with that now, yes?). Maybe I ate something weird or had a touch of Ebola*. Otherwise I'm giving the fourth graders a cautionary tale: see kids...do not get pregnant ever, it is not fun. Someone hold my hair back. I'll make you a special vomit helper merit badge.
I'm also winding down from cleaning at grandmas after watching my dad pull rusted metal cake decorating pastry tips out of the recycling to save. We had already saved dozens of good metal tips with no scary rust and corrosion, but that didn't seem to matter. That kind of shit is so frustrating. I'm seriously considering loading my car up with crap from that house and sneaking stuff into other peoples' garage sales.
* probably was not Ebola.
Went to the farmer's market
Because the previous two tasks were enough to wear me out, I guess.
For some reason I'm exhausted and sicker than usual. I'm going to a concert tonight and I wish I felt better.
D is usually already gone in the morning when I'm sick, so hearing me was alarming to him:
"Punkin, are you okay?"
"Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just pukin'"
Because I think pregnant women all have a little Marge Gunderson in them: "Yup, I'm okay. Just gonna puke!"
Me (looking out at thunderstorm): Well, I guess I'll be running inside tonight.
Officemate: Yeah, with the lightning and all...
Me: Yeah. Unsure of the effects of a lightning strike on an unborn fetus. ...although...
Officemate and me together: Superpowers!
Officemate: That's how it happens!
Derrick's grandma is losing her memory.
We've known this for a while, and she's very self-aware, but it's hard to watch it progress.
I've been through it with my grandfather. I know how frustrating and sad it is.
Right now, grandma Bev remembers who I am and everything, but the memory loss is apparent in conversation. For instance, we stopped over to say hi and tell her about the pregnancy before going to the wedding this weekend. She asked us a dozen times who was getting married. We answered patiently, as though we were just being asked for the first time each time, but d's grandfather is not so patient, and he snaps at her out of frustration a lot. He yelled at her for going on a walk and not being able to find her--she was out weeding in the garden.
As a result, she's stopped wanting to do anything or go anywhere. The best thing d's parents did was get a new puppy. They named her the same name as the old dog so grandma wouldn't have to remember. Grandma Bev spends hours outside with that dog, playing and walking and talking. The dog has no expectations. Doesn't care if she remembers or repeats. It's amazing to watch them.
She'll probably forget me before her other grand kids. I'm newer, after all. But some things she does remember. Important things. She asked me about losing the baby in January. She asked how I was, and she's been asking others how I'm doing. She was thrilled when we told her about the pregnancy. She started to cry. She held the thread through the whole conversation and remembered the next day.
It makes me sad to see her decline. She was so, so sweet to me after my grandma June died that I tear up just thinking about it. It's clear that, Derrick being her favorite grandchild*, she made a special place for me, too.
*derrick is everyone's favorite in his family. No joke. He's just so affable and kind and calm that it's hard not to be a favorite grandson amidst all the general chaos of the huge family.
I talked to four different people on the phone tonight about four unrelated things.
I feel like this is a lot. I mean, I never talk on the phone. Sometimes the phone rings and I'm all "noooooo!" Because I'm mentally unprepared to be thrust into a conversation.
One call was my niece-- shaking me down to volunteer for Girl Scout camp again. It was hilarious:
"Um, just so you know, the volunteer forms are due like...today. So. You have to turn them in. Like now."
Me: When is it, can I get forms, etc., because I've just now heard of this.
She is SUCH a preteen. My god, it's like she's possessed.
And my dad somehow conned me in to going to an antique truck show with him. I really don't want to, but he really wanted me to, and it made him really happy. So.
Also: 9 out of 10 people in the world could have told me this, but running 6.5 miles with "morning" sickness is a really, really stupid idea. Even if it was a perfect night for a run.
One of d's cousins started talking about...nay, praising, this abstinence only article. I do not have enough eyerolls for it. It says things like, "Do you really want anyone but your spouse to have shared that kind of intimacy with you? Do you want to be secondhand?"
Rage. Am posting here to keep myself from railing against it. If someone wants to abstain until marriage, okay. Fine. I think it's ridiculously idiotic, but it's your decision. But to tell other people that to have sex before marriage makes them secondhand? Fuck that shit.
Tonight my sister and I ended up reviving our origin stories. You see, my dad would never tell us about much surrounding us being born. Because we weren't. According to him:
My sister was hatched.
I was found under a mushroom.
My brother was a K-mart blue light special.
It's funny how you don't realize how utterly bizarre your family memes are until you're explaining them earnestly to an 11 year old.