Keeeping it real, whether I want to or not

Maybe it's karma.  Maybe bad juju.  Or just bad luck.
But today, on first full day of school for my kids, I got sick.
Fever, chills, cough, the whole shebang.


"Uh, what are we going to do?" asked one of the kids.
"Who is going to take me to kindergarten?" asked JT.  With school budget cuts there is no more kindergarten bussing.


I had one of those days where I wish my mother wasn't a drug addicted, mentally unstable woman and she could come over and take care of me.  But that ship sailed years and years ago.  Even before she became so "sick" with her issues, she wasn't totally nice.  When I was a pre-teen and having a bad day, she would look at me and cackle and say "well, well, well...what do you want? a pity party?  Let's all have a pity party for poor you."  Then sing a song in a daunting, creepy way.  "No body likes me, everybody hates me.  I'm gonna eat some worms."  What is that?


Other times, when I was a teenager and came to her not feeling well, she would convince me I was practically dying.  One time I complained of cramps and she gave me a couple of muscle relaxers from her personal pharmacy that I swear knocked me out for two days.


So, really, it is better that she's not around.


I wish Mrs. Garret could take care of me, or Mrs. Huxtable, or Alice from the "The Brady Bunch."
But that is silly, I know.


So I came out of my fever fog enough to get the older kids on the bus and sort of play with the little kids.  Then it was time for JT's first day of kindergarten.


He told me he wanted to be a big boy and be dropped off at the car loop.  Halleluiah, I thought, I don't have to get dressed and can just drop him off.


But guess what, there was no car loop.  Maybe budget cuts?  But there was nobody out front to guide the little kindergartners in on their first day.  So, I grabbed the baby whose face wasn't washed and wasn't wearing shoes or socks and headed inside with JT.


In the parking lot I saw a friend and briefly explained that I was sick and embarrassed by my appearance.  "You're just keeping it real," she said laughing and driving away.


Yup, that's me.  Keeping it real, whether I want to or not.


As I walked into the lobby, there were sweet little kids lining up and looking so nervous.  There were a lot of first time kindergarten parents dressed to the nines taking pictures and ever so slightly moving their children away from me.  It could've been the seal-like cough I was barking or the fact that I looked like a homeless woman. 

I know this is a scary picture, but I put it in just so you know I do not exaggerate.

Or when I was telling another mom that I had a fever and I was feeling trippy, but then continued with "not that I know what that feels like" followed by nervous laughter. Even when my brain is screaming "Stop talking!" I don't listen.  




Keeping it real.


So I came back home and slept for a few hours.


Then I watched some clips on YouTube to cheer me up, because I have the maturity level of a 15-year-old boy.  And maybe realizing that has helped me come to terms with my love of overweight, unhealthy, hilarious male comedians.  You know I love Sam Kinison and you might remember my adoration of John Candy.  But I have never mentioned my affection for Chris Farley.


Again you may be thinking that I am ridiculous and you are right.  You also may be thinking that you are more mature than me and you are probably right.  But that doesn't mean that you won't find the following clips hilarious.  Seriously.


This is what Tim, my sweet husband, said I was like with each pregnancy.  He is correct.

This is how I feel in the car a lot, don't we all?  Okay, maybe not.


Back to the couch with me.  I must look pretty sick and scary, because the kids are being sooooo nice.