This has been one heck of an evening. All I wanted to do was enjoy my dinner and complete my homework assignment for my Intro to Arts and Humanities class (a class that is one heck of a challenge, but I’ll get to that another time). As I tried to eat my delicious zucchini, tomato, and artichoke hearts with pasta, my children, who had already been fed, decided they were still hungry. While I was preparing their food, mine got cold. I had to warm it up twice due to distractions, and by the time I got to eat it, it had gotten cold again, but I didn’t care. As I was about halfway through, my two-year-old daughter, Zee, perched herself on the stool next to me. She smiled up at me with her big, brown eyes, took a swig of juice, gagged on it, and vomited all over the counter. Then she ran merrily off to play while I cleaned up the mess. I was determined to finish my meal (despite my loss of appetite), and started in. Bubsy needed a glass of water. I got it for him. Bubsy began chewing on his shirt. I got him his special chewy bracelet. I was almost done eating when Zee ran into the kitchen, tearing off her diaper. It was full of brown nastiness, and while tearing it off, she got it all over her legs, her pants, her hands, and ultimately, the bathroom. Teaching her not to remove her soiled diaper has been an unending uphill battle. I lost it. I didn’t call her any names or tell her she was rotten (never have, never will). I didn’t swat her (swats don’t do any good with this girlie; they just get her wound up and determined to break my spirit with more naughtiness. I kid you not. This little girl, though sweet and lovable, has an insanely determined streak. I’ve worked with dozens and dozens of young children over the years, and I have only met one other child more determined than she, and that is my son). I just reiterated that she must come to me instead of taking her diaper off herself in a LOUD and SCARY voice, with my eyes bulging and my arms flailing. She smiled, unperturbed. I abandoned her soiled pants in the sink and plunked her in the tub. At that point, my husband returned from teaching his karate class and came to the bathroom to get the story behind the awful smell that had now permeated our house. Excellent man that he is, he cleaned up the mess and made me some brownies. I have a lot of food allergies, so the brownies were made from a mix that was nut-free, flour-free, egg-free, and had the consistency of a glue stick, but I appreciated the gesture. I ate three brownies out of gratitude and got horrible indigestion.
After watching an episode of Flight of the Conchords with my husband, it was time to start on my very basic homework assignment. I had to discuss a piece of artwork from the Middle Ages. I chose the “Agostino Novello Altarpiece” by Simone Martini. I started writing, but my computer kept seizing up. This is a new laptop. What. The. Heck. It stopped seizing up for a few moments, and I wrote some more. Then my BRAIN seized up. In a valiant effort, I decided to push through and just type basic facts about the altarpiece. I was just starting to get somewhere when both my brain and the computer seized up. I tried writing it in a different program. It copied and pasted my notes into a long, skinny column that went on for ten pages, and wouldn’t let me scroll up or down. I tried writing it down on a piece of paper. I lost my pen. I looked high and low for another pen. All I could find were the fat magic markers my children use.
I decided to try again tomorrow and just hand it in a day late. Maybe my professor won’t notice. He certainly has no problem grading and offering feedback on my assignments nearly two weeks after he is supposed to, so I am hoping he will show leniency.
Here’s hoping my children don’t vomit or have a poop explosion tomorrow, and that my brain and computer programs operate smoothly. Here is a picture of the Blessed Altarpiece. And here is a picture of my blessed children.