Catchups

Happy white people culture day.

I have some catch ups & random stories. . . here goes

Happy belated birthday to albert einstien and pi

Majpaj came to visit us over the weekend & brought his parents & grandma! It was lovely to see them but wasn't exactly the weekend we had expected.

Khubz declared that my sister Joe (MajPaj's mom) shall ever after be referred to as "Tia Lila" I will never be done calling her this. Joe gets all the best nicknames from the kiddos. My Mom gave Joe the nickname "Jolly" when she was a baby. My niece Dax proclaimed that Joe was "Yaya" and now she's "Tia Lila." I love the lilt in that & I love that my daughter has a nickname for my very beloved sister.

Thursday day included several phone calls to confirm the visit. Khubz was up all night coughing, I disclose. MajPaj puked earlier today but has since acted fine, Joe replies. Both our kids are sort of half sick--let's see each other anyway! They were coming!

They got there late, late Thursday night. Khubz was asleep in the playpen in our room. They tried to put MajPaj down in Khubz's room and it was different & scary & so his parents slept on the hardwood floor to help him calm down. He talked to them for hours. My mom & I were in the living room (Scully & Khubz were asleep upstairs in our room) and could hear MajPaj upstairs. He'd quiet down and we'd think, he must have passed out. Then "maMA! daDA!" hilarious.

That night Khubz joined us early in the bed. She's got a cold or is teething or something and has lots of mucus she's dealing with. So she wakes up coughing constantly and that night she coughed, coughed, coughed and vomited. All over me, Scully and our bed. Bleckhhh.

We get her cleaned up, we get cleaned up, the bed is cleaned up and we are all back in bed in under 30 minutes. Because we are tired.

Despite the difficult night, Khubz & MajPaj had a great time together. MajPaj is always happy to see me simply because I am an indicator that Khubz is around. When he saw me the next morning he asked, "Baby?!" He is talking so much with lovely gems like "iuvyou" and "awwright." We were reading a book called Quiet/Loud and got to the birdies are quiet/airplanes are loud page. "What does a birdie say?" I asked inviting the "cheep" I was used to Khubz saying. "KAW! KAW!" MajPaj replied excitedly. We were having a good time.

Suddenly, without any warning, MajPaj vomits up a morning worth of milk. Luckily it was in the kitchen (easiest place to clean it up) but unfortunately, all over him. No worries. Clean him up. Start the second laundry load of eau de vomit.

In the face of all this vomit, the kids feel fine. They are surprised by vomiting and then get cleaned up and carry on with the matter at hand: having a blast together. Things seem okay. We get through naps which were unusually short and decide it's time to go to the P.a.r.k.

We get to the park (dubbed "Maya's park" by Khubz who insists our friend Maya will appear whenever we go there.) It was midday Friday so we didn't expect anyone else to be there but there were two very politely attired white women with their kids over in the big-kid section of the park. We help grandma get to the park bench over the very nice & very expensive recycled rubber pieces that make up the ground of the "soft park." There were giggles, guffaws, delighted squeals as they followed one another down the slides, around the poles and through the tubes. And then, in front of those very thin, white women in their 100% cotton floral print dresses, MajPaj begins to vomit. A lot. I hold my sweater out for him to vomit in. And he does. A lot. Then, after filling my sweater with vomit he coughs and dashes off to continue playing. Joe and I look down. I am covered in vomit. And so is the soft park.

What do you do? There's no way to clean the rubber pieces--we don't have any water. Those white women are staring at us. Their freshly applied lipstick disappeared as they pressed their lips together in a thin line. I am covered in vomit which makes me pretty close to vomiting myself. I pull my sweater off. Even my dress has vomit on it. Joe catches her son and takes off his coat, wipes him off. I pull up what I can of the rubber material to throw it away & kick at the rest, trying to cover up the vomit.

"I have to go." We have just gotten here. Khubz chanted "parque? parque?parque!" the entire way here. Both the children begin to freak. But it doesn't actually matter, see, because I am covered in vomit in front of two very thin white women.

We get home. I get in the shower and then start the third laundry load of vomit covered clothing. Joe calls her doctor. They are going to leave that night and take MajPaj to the doctor the next day. He has been vomiting every day for several weeks. They thought it was all the problems with his ears. He had tubes put in on Monday but the vomit continues. (their doc thinks all the antibiotic killed off the good bacteria in his stomach or he may be lactose intolerant.)

We go on to have a nice day together and no one else vomits on me. MajPaj and his parents leave for iowa and Grandma stays with us. My mom's disability prevents her from driving so I will drive her up on Sunday, stay a couple hours and then return.

This post is getting waay too long. Here's the rest summed up: Khubz puked all over her bed and then all over me on Saturday night. I showered and started vomit laundry load number four. The next day I took my mom to ia while Scully took Khubz to the doctor. She's fine ( I guess) they said she either had a cold or she's teething, so no new news.

It was an entirely surreal but still fairly lovely (if vomit filled) weekend.

All the laundry is done.

I loved having my mom here (and MajPaj & co as well)

Khubz loves having family around. Because she can vomit and her mommy still doesn't get crispy.

There is so much more I wanted to post about. Here's my reminder for later:

• Where do you feel silenced? Really?? Silenced?
• How & why to hold on to people
• wagoneering