Nest Feathers and Twine - Formally Artist's Block Studio

The things that make a house a home and the stuff that holds is all together.

Years ago I started this blog with a mindset and goals that I have found have changed direction over time. I am excited to say that this blog has a new name.....Nest Feathers and Twine. I hope you come by and visit often. Feel free to get comfortable and kick off your shoes and join me on this journey of metamorphosis.

Friday, January 29, 2010

calgon, take me away....puhlease

did you ever have one of those days when you wish you could go back to bed and start the day over again.

today has been one of those days.  the only problem is it started when i was in bed.

my sweet, sweet boy sam went to bed last night sure that the weather guy had it all wrong and that we would end up with the mountains of snow predicted for southern missouri.  i sent him to bed and told him 'start praying now because it does not look like you will have a snow day according to the radar'.

this morning, no snow.  the weather guy was not 'lying' and sam scared the holy bejeezers out of me by laying on his dad's side of the bed and staring at me until i woke up.  he had a sore throat.  he wanted to stay home.  i believe he has a sore throat, he sounds hoarse i thought, but no fever = school.  as the kids get older i am a little tougher on them when it comes to staying home. 

sam went a got a flashlight so i could look down his throat.  i told him his throat was red, but that i also saw something else, a note on the back of his throat that said sam still has to go to school today....(i was trying to inject some humor into the conversation to lighten the mood that was becoming tense, bad, bad, bad idea)

about this time i roll over onto my bad ear, which means i can hear much better with the broken but good ear and i hear 'whap whap  whap whap whap' which causes me to ask the hubs what the noise was....chuckling he answers bert is in the cabinet. 

i reply back 'is he mauling the last roll of toilet paper in there?'

chuckling still the hubs replies 'yeah' ha ha ha ha

i reply back irked  ' which means i will walk in to a mess to clean up when i have to go to the you know how many times i have told you guys to make sure the cabinet door is shut......heavy, heavy sighhhhhh'

ok...i will pick it up he tells me, hmmmm no chuckle in the voice any more...

now we go for round 2...or is it 3 with sam and his sore throat

sam, remember i said he is my sweet, sweet boy, became very cranky.

the mom radar was activated and my gut tells me maybe something is up.  maybe he was counting on not going to school for a reason, and now he is stuck going.

i ask him, ' so what homework did you not complete betting that you would not have school'

'none mom, we had a half day yesterday, we don't get homework on half days'

hmmmm, so maybe there is a problem with the girl friend, even though they seemed to be happily texting each other at 10:30 last night.

so while i am really wanting to roll over and go back to sleep he keeps pushing to stay home and the more he pushes the more my radar goes off.

in a last ditch attempt to get me to change my mind he states 'if you won't do it for me mom, at least think of all of those other kids that are going to get sick because you made me go to school '

to which i replied:  ' as long as you don't go licking all of the desks, i think the other students will be just fine, and by the way i am sure you got this from a kid at school who had a sore throat and no fever whose mean mom made them go to school too'

sam got to school and texted his dad at work....his stomach is hurting bad and he has really bad is how the boys pronounced it as toddlers and the term has just stuck and like with most terminology the slang does not usually sound as gross as the medical usually does not know any better, aha but dad called me before he contacted sam to tell him he would pick him up from school.  i texted sam telling him he had to stay at school.  the mom radar is going off pretty loudly now.

sam called me from the nurses office a couple of hours ago to tell me he did not feel good, still no fever though, so i told him to stick it out till the end of the day.  

sam texted dad again, dad called me, i texted sam.

my gut tells me it is more than a sore throat that is bothering him.  but,  now the mom guilt is setting in and i am questioning my decision.  all i keep thinking is what if he gets home this afternoon with the plague of a thousand gooey blisters all over, then he gets to do an 'i told you so' and i get to feel like a jerk.

i found myself standing in the kitchen lost in thought and spied the people treat jar.

there are 3 treat jars on the antique hoosier cabinet.  the people one, dog one, and the cats.
there were 2 fortune cookies left.  maybe the one i pick will tell me something wonderful.

 i guess we will see what the rest of the day brings.

this better not be referring to the assorted change (which is pennies when i do the laundry and dollar bills when steph does the laundry), rocks, fuzzies, and unidentifiable items that come out of the dryer daily, the occasional hair ball that squishes between your toes when sleepily wandering through the house, or that wad of stuff that stops up the vacuum cleaner hose, and worse the 'holy crap what is that' found in the boys room at least once a week along with 20 pair of dirty smelly socks.

i find those treasures enough thank you.

i have faith it will be wonderful, really i do........i think.

update:  sam came home from school and guess who is apologetic and feeling much, much better.  score another for the mom radar.  he won't fess up though as to why he wanted to stay home though.

but, bottom line is i am sooo very grateful he did not come home with the plague of a thousand gooey blisters or whatever the latest and greatest grossness that is being
passed around school like a gossip-y text message.
(remember the olden days when we had to use pencil and paper to do that)


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"Never give up, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn."

Harriet Beecher Stowe

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