So, today is our fourth day of school. I already had my first cold of the academic year. And now, I’ve cleaned up the first vomit of the school season.
Grace, my four year old, complained, “My stomach hurts” all evening and lolled around on my bed looking rather pitiful. She’d returned to her room, watch television for a while, then drag back into my room where I was riding my exercise bike, clutching her tummy. Then, she said the fateful words: “I’m going to throw up.”
She spoke so with such calmness, that I didn’t stop pedaling but merely answered, “Well, go throw up in the sink.” (The sink? I simultaneously thought, ewww, how dirty is the toilet? and she’s not really going to puke.)
So I was wrong. Poor baby. At least her tummy felt better afterwards. She fell asleep watching television and has been sleeping ever since. I keep telling myself that she’ll be fine, this was a one-time deal, it’s a mild virus (or whatever it is). I just hope that we don’t have a puke-fest involving our entire household plus all the other people who come and go.
Meanwhile, I did the dinner dishes tonight.
I have been trying to see Katie Couric on the news and Rosie O’Donnell on The View, but have failed on both counts. I feel like I ought to take note of each event, but my real life keeps interfering with television! Of all the nerve!
(Today, we had two landscaping guys working in the backyard–they trimmed ivy and hedges and spread playground mulch on what used to be our pathetic lawn. Now our backyard truly is a child’s playground. Anyway, suddenly, the doorbell rings and it’s another guy, the guy who’s supposed to arrive after 2 p.m. to pick up the dead car. We’re donating it to some charity because it’s blown head gasket is too costly to repair. Stupid car. Anyway . . . as the car guy is loading the car, the landscape guy says, “Repo?” to me as he walks by with his wheelbarrow. As if! What a bizarre conclusion . . . as if someone, somewhere would repossess a 1993 Mercury Sable!)
I realized something about myself. (This is a new thought . . . I’m rambly tonight.) I realized that I hate to pay anyone to do anything I am capable of doing myself. I hate that I am paying the guys to do the landscape work. I could totally do it myself! If I had time! And a giant chainsaw! And a huge truck!
I hate that I paid a guy to deliver two twin bed mattresses and box springs today. I could totally do that myself! If I had a truck! And time, more time!
I keep talking about hiring someone to help me with housework, but I probably never will because I hate paying anyone to do anything I feel able to do myself.
I hate that I’m going to have to pay a guy to come and fix the seal on my refrigerator because I am certain it’s an easy job that I could totally do myself! If I had the right tools! And a manual!
Oh! And the guy that we’re going to pay to paint the boys’ room? I HATE THAT! I could totally do that myself! I have painted almost every room in this house! I could paint that, too, if I had time! And more time! And a little extra time after that!
Oh! And the guy we paid to paint the deck? I could have done that! I could have power-washed the house! I could have replaced the rotted rails on the deck, if only I had the correct saw and a large truck in which to haul a 15 foot two-by-four.
I either have some control issues or my dad taught me too well. (He did everything himself from fixing the car to building a computer from a kit to making homemade ice cream. If you can read, you can do it, was the message he gave me.)
(If only I could pay someone to take care of the vomit that is sure to come.)
Actual Unretouched Photo 
The “Repo” comment is TOO funny. Did you respond? Like, yes we thought it was more important to have backyard landscaping than to have a car???
My prayer for you today is that there will be NO MORE vomiting.
I love you that much!
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just today I was mentally calculating what a used truck would cost compared to what it costs to pay someone to help me haul junk all year. So this was funny to read, I’m the same way.
However, this month I’m decorating my husband’s office and am seriously thinking of hiring a design student to boss around, just because I get too distracted BECAUSE i can do it all myself.
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Although a financial strain, I’m happy enough not to do the drudge work that I dislike and am not adept at.
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Repo? Who makes a comment like that? Especially who doesn’t know you? How weird…
I used to want to do it all myself. But my husband travels AND doesn’t want a thing to do with the outside chores, and frankly–I’m tired of it! So I happily outsource the lawn care and periodic weeding when it gets too bad. I want to teach piano lessons to pay for someone to come in and deep clean, but then my husband has to point out that I could just use that time to clean it myself! Grrrr.
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I woould so totally pay to have someone clean up puke. I would in fact, double the going rate in a heartbeat.
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Id pay for someone to do my landscaping in a heartbeat! Actually I’d pay for anything!
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Time? What is THAT?! Here I’ve been baby-less all week while my daughter-in-law is on vacation and I’d had plans to paint the woodwork in the bathroom, do my last major weeding outside before the Autumn rains descend on us, and wash all the outside windows. Have I done any of them? Nope. I’ve been sitting out on the back porch in the rocking chair reading in the sunshine. Oh well…so much for plans, eh.
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Okay, I know the economy here in Michigan is a little different than most of northern America, but aren’t teenage twin boys about the cheapest labor around when it comes to stuff like dishes and painting and yard work?
Do kids not get stuck doing this stuff anymore? Is someone gonna call in a social service agency when I introduce my daughter to the Palmolive or the Dutch Boy section at Home Depot?
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You know, I’ve been telling myself for the last 10 years that “I could paint the walls myself.” Now the plaster needs repaired and I KNOW I will never get around to it. Soooo… I’ve picked out paint colors and have hired someone who will come in 2 weeks and fix and paint those walls. Since he does this all the time and has the correct equipment, he’ll probably be done in several hours. Beats the “I can do that” 10 year plan!
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I was taught the same way as you were. (Hmm are we surprised?) Although I finally relented on the housework, which feels *so* good. (Okay so it’s a friend & not a complete stranger, but it still counts.) Now if I can only relent on mowing the lawn…
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I do that same thing, when a kid throws up. Imagine how horrified I was 2 years ago, when my then 2 yr old threw up for three days! (at the age where the idea of throwing up *in something* is totally bizarre to them) That was fun… Fortunately, he kept peeing, so I knew he wasn’t dehydrated. I pray it is a one-time bug.
I’m a new reader, and enjoying your blog very much. Judy (nobody home) recommended your site. Glad she did!
Jill, SAHM to five, 2 in college, 3 at home
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Is it making the rounds? Rochelle was sick on Tuesday, today it was Rebecca. One day off and they’re fine.
No real cleanup. One made it to a lined wastebasket; the other already had a plastic bowl right beside her. She’d been complaining for an hour and I prepared just in case.
Lucky me.
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As for the TV conflict… you’ve gotta get a DVR. I watched Rosie and Katie and BB All Stars one right after the other last night. Commercial free and in silence after everyone else went to bed. Pure Bliss!!
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My dh is a pediatrician and whenever we have to hire out a “minor” job that we *could* do ourselves, dh says “plumbers don’t try to fix their own kids, pediatrician’s shouldn’t try to fix their own pipes!” HA!
Usually with us if we try to fix something minor, it turns INTO something major!!! 🙂
Hope the little one is feeling better soon. My ds is a sudden puker. No warning. Fine one minute, puking the next!! THAT is annoying!
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Well, I used to feel bad when I paid someone to do work we could clearly do ourselves, I mean my husband and I are collectively, highly intelligent. But in the end, truth is, there are some jobs that suck and I would rather pay someone else to do them while I read or ride my motorcycle.
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