Remember that old Simpsons' episode where Apu went without sleep for several days and then thought he was a hummingbird? I feel like that, except for the no-sleep thing. I mean, I haven't been sleeping that well but I have been sleeping; during the daylight hours I have been flitting around exactly like a hummingbird, going from task to task in a frantic kind of way. I have lists everywhere and every time I cross something off I do not get my usual feeling of accomplishment; instead I feel like I need to add five items.
The boys are sick with colds; Jake has a massive headcold and is currently lying on the couch watching Looney Tunes. Mark has a cough and any time he has a cough I get something like post-traumatic stress disorder from that time he had pneumonia. He coughs and my heart starts pounding, my entire body gets tense. Last night I heard him cough, ran into his room - nearly passing out in the process, due to the excellent combination of my super-low blood pressure and jumping out of bed - and asked if he needed his emergency inhaler. He was sound asleep. I stood there in the doorway, my heart pounding, feeling like a ridiculous hypochondriac of a mother.
In an interview prior to the Super Bowl, Ray Lewis said "I'm too blessed to be stressed" and I decided to adopt that as a motto for my life. I thought I should work that thought, in a zen-like way, into my everyday life. Which means I was practically screaming "I'M TOO BLESSED TO BE STRESSED! SERENITY NOW! NAMASTE MOTHERFUCKER!" today, for reasons too ridiculous to go into.
Oh well, they are sick, they'll get better. The other day the boys were at a make-up karate class, on a different day than usual. On their usual day, all the kids get dropped off and picked up later, but for me, it's too far to drive home and back, so I normally sit in the waiting area by myself. At the make-up class, the kids were younger and so there were a number of moms also waiting.
Here I must interject. I am the chatty, small-talky mom you might meet in a waiting area. Chances are if we just met I will find out your kids' names, ages, activities, and favourite movies. But on this day, in this waiting room, there were three moms that obviously knew each other and settled in for what I assumed was their weekly chat, and I smiled at them and then, not wanting to interrupt them, continued writing in my notebook.
It turns out that I couldn't have interrupted if I had wanted to. One of the moms started talking at 4:15 and didn't stop for the next forty five minutes. It was something to behold. I looked up at one point, and noticed one of the moms she was talking at was busily crocheting, and the other was simply nodding and murmuring "Um hmmm. Hmmm." at intervals. I guessed this was business as usual for this group. The woman talked nonstop about the following topics: her son's hockey practice and the schedule they keep, her hairdresser, the frequency with which she speaks to her mother-in-law, the frequency with which her mother-in-law visits or with which she visits her mother-in-law, her Italian lessons and the expense incurred, the Kiwanis music festival at which she was accompanied by someone not musically talented, her son's field trip to the Calgary Opera and how she was the single greatest chaperone on the trip, her own vast musical talent, fondue, and the weekend hockey tournament that took place at a wonderful venue in Edmonton and the cost of their hotel room. She told the other women what she posted as her statuses on Facebook for the past week, and how her family liked to spend their time in a relaxed manner at Disneyland. One of the other moms, at this point, began to talk about her own recent trip to Disneyland, and was instantly cut off when she said she liked to get to the gates early and then stay until close. "That must be because you're Asian!" the woman said. I looked up, startled and horrified. The crocheting woman was still crocheting madly. The Asian woman, with what I thought was extreme self-control, nodded politely.
With the boys being too sick to go to their karate lesson today, I am not particularly looking forward to taking them to the make up class and being subjected to this kind of asinine one-sided conversation again. Although I'm kind of curious: will this obnoxiousness be a Groundhog Day-like occurrence? Does this verbal spewage happen every Tuesday from 4:15 to 5:00? If I flit around the waiting room like Apu the hummingbird, will it be noticed, or will everyone be too busy listening to "And then I posted on Facebook that happiness is a family marshmallow fight."?