Bliathna Mhath Ur, Everybody! (With Bonus Unexpected Digression)
Wherefore art thou, Sam? Why the protracted silence over here at problemchildbride? …
a person might ask if they were truly bored.
Well I art right hereish and amn’t hanging up my blogging apron (starched and spotless, naturally) yet.
Reasons range widely for the dearth of posts lately. I could wish they ranged a bit more wildly perhaps but, really, only widely is how they ranged and I guess that’s OK too.
Making Excuses for Laxity In Blogging (start the year as you mean to go on, I say):
Excuse 1: We’ve had guests coming and going constantly since November. For a few days one week there were 10 adults and 2 children staying under the Problem roof.
2. 2007-odd years ago a carpenter was born in a far off land under an evergreen tree and, as his mother laid him gently in a manger of tinsel, reindeer snuffling gently in the musty warmth of the stable, the Adoration of The Magi happened and there was that bit about shepherds, and the traditions of both giving gifts and eating as many barnyard animals as one can stuff into each other was born. Planning His various birthday bashes plays merry hell with one’s blogging time.
3. The Problem Husband vomited for a week requiring diligent nursing and laundry services. I felt heart-sorry for him because he was really, really ill and wished I could take some of the sickness in his stead. As these things go, that is exactly what happened, although my dose was much milder. This was good but extra good because I needed to plan for #4.
4. We had a Hogmanay party. Both 4-year-olds began to vomit at 12:30 am on January the 1st despite not having had nearly as much to drink as everyone else. Spectacularly and ballistically they vomited, in defiance of dry-clean only garments and all local galactic ordinances about having to obey therules of physics in this arm of the Milky Way – apart from the one that says for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. (That’s the most delicate way I can put it…). 4 weary days later my poor little milky whey-faced ghosts beat the thing off finally and were soon ruddy-faced and cheeky again. There was a brief flurry of calm, whereupon ProblemChild 1 broke out in monstrous hives in an allergic reaction to a mystery foodstuff.
5. Family pressures arrived for 5 weeks too. Family pressures of the sort that come with suitcases and require plenty of silent screaming and much rolling of one’s inner eyes, wildly (often widely) in the manner of a lab-traumatized monkey. My back molars are ground down to mere stumps and a rictus of crazed merriment has frozen my face, just as if somebody had Botoxed the whole thing right at the horrific moment I realize I’ve come to Parents’ Evening dressed only in a tiara and bumble-bee slippers with “Skool Suks!” tattooed across my bare bum.
This waxing and waning of immense geofamilial pressure and heat could cause me to become either a cold, hard diamond glittering icily for the rest of my life, or explode me wildly wide, mingling me with pollution and settling me as a thin layer of dust over the land, rendering me a convenient geological marker for this great age of presidential apologies in the passive voice : “Mistakes were made. Responsibility for that rests with me.”
Still, it’s the closest he’s come to a mea culpa and we’ll always have the good times with W – Guantanamo, Katrina, Abu Ghraib. Gotta cut the guy some slack, and besides it was his advisors, wasn’t it? His hand-picked Cheney and Rummy and HeckuvaJob Brownie and his loyal-to-my-buddies refusal to fire any of them even when it became clear thousands of young soldiers had died for nothing – for worse than nothing, for regression.
But I won’t become a bitter old pear-cut, or a dust layer, because my private pressures are as old as families and I have a choice in how to regard them. This “I have a choice” thing is a throwaway line it has taken me years to properly assimilate because I am bit dim and always have to learn things the hard way etc.
America has helped to learn me it although that particular stew of wisdom has a tendency to boil over here, leaving stubborn, cooked on stains called things like “The Reiki Cure for Cancer” and “Better Living Through navel-Gazing” (I learned from fatmammycat (see sidebar) about how reiki is alive and well and fleecing the sick in Ireland. I’d never heard of the word before – although I knew mistily what it was about – an ignorance that could very well get me thrown out of California. Hope the Authorities aren’t reading this; you’re not, are you, Authorities?.)
The other wisdom pot that bubbles in America is the “What ain’t killing you is making you stronger” oleo. Ipso facto, there’s nothing wrong with that either (aside from being a bit salty) but it often boils over into the stubborn stain left by the crueller sort of social conservatives peddling “personal responsiblility” to people like homeless Vietnam veterans. Not getting killed didn’t exactly inject their poor broken minds and bodies with the resolve and secret wisdom to live productive (gotta be producing, gotta be consuming! ka-ching!) and happy lives.
Strangely, when left together, unattended on the back-burner, these two stews will sometimes boil over together, leaving the burned-on stain on the hob know as “Dr. Phil”. He is impossible to remove, but you should still try.
Well this has all gone in an unexpected direction. I didn’t even feel all that impassioned and self-righteous when I started writing this. I really just wanted to say “HappyNewYearLetsHopeIt’sAGoodOne” to me blog chums and to get back in the old blogging saddle again; I note that the leather’s getting creaky – needs a bit of polishing. The kind of polish where your paragraphs have points and the post stays roughly on topic perhaps. Ah well, give me time, folks!
January 13th, 2007 at 5:11 am
You should just tell us all to, “bugger off.”
We need no explanation, although I enjoyed this one.
Glad you’re back. I’ll be back soon, too.
Cheers.
January 13th, 2007 at 6:34 am
Good ta have you back, if the holiday season isn’t about pressure and vomit then I don’t know what its about, I almost took a break meself, but then someone always says something funny which I have to reply to and it all begins again.
January 13th, 2007 at 9:22 am
I’ve tended to find that what doesn’t kill you weakens you so that the next thing is a far more likely to
Glad to see you blogging again
January 13th, 2007 at 10:09 am
So you had a good Christmas then hon?
Joking aside I hope you are all well again and avoiding this highly infectious January low spiritedness. I’m having a spelling blindness and forgot how to spell penis the other day. A cause for concern I think.
Just read Kim’s cheery note above. Who was it who said ‘It’s being so cheerful that keeps him going!’
January 13th, 2007 at 10:12 pm
A pleasure as always Sam and a very nice surprise!
I must admit I have a real problem with the “V” word…you know, the one you used to describe the action of throwing up. I haven’t thrown up for 30 some odd years now but the last experience left it’s mark…haven’t been able to voluntarily utter the “V” word since. Kinda freaks me out.
Anyway…welcome back. You were missed!
January 14th, 2007 at 6:35 am
Rand’, I’ve been finding out more today about that MO kidnap case you blogged about. What an incredible story. What an incredible ending, although I imagine for the boys concerned it might never be altogether over.
Auld Knudders, your output and your pace is astonishing. I can’t keep up with it all as I’d like to without cutting out on more time spent on frivolously sleeping or eating or maintaining proper levels of personal hygiene. I’d miss you if you went anywhere.
Kim, I do agree that not every cloud has a silver lining. Some clouds are just heavily laden with wet despair and bound to lead to bronchial pneumonia.
Pat, you know it all sounds grim but actually Christmas itself was lovely. I worked harder on it this year than I’ve ever done before because the girls had a much better grasp of what the whole thing’s about than they did last year. As a result, it was the best Christmas I’ve ever had. They had a blast, I had a blast, Granny and Grandpa enjoyed it all thoroughly and the Problem Husband, despite sleeping through much of it, snuffled contentedly amongst his presents with the sort of noises I’ve learnt indicate that he’s in a state of happiness.
Joel, apologies for the v word. I don’t know this for sure but I imagine it is very rare to find a person who hasn’t thrown up for 30 years. It’s obvious to me you’ve never found yourself in either of the first two trimesters of a pregnancy. Not even a little gastric flu? A little gastric sniffle even? You lucky bloomin’ personage!
January 14th, 2007 at 11:12 am
Welcome back, dear Sam. I hope you will never again require a laxative to start blogging. Some things are best left to nature and a diet of fresh fruit.
January 14th, 2007 at 12:39 pm
It’s about time you got your arse back in the chair and did some blogging.
Glad everybody enjoyed Christmas, got over projectile disease and gave the bees their hive back.
Physical illness seems to be one of the few things I’m managing to avoid so far (touches wood oh so quickly) but I’m still as mad as ever.
Good to have you back.
January 14th, 2007 at 12:46 pm
You know, I was GOING to say you don’t need to make excuses, but your excuses are amusing enough that I’ll say the opposite. You are hereby required to produce amusing excuses whenever you’ve done anything remotely excusable.
Dissertations on why you broke wind,
long apologies as to why you double-parked at the shopping centre,
and lengthy medical descriptions of every ailment–large or small!–that you or your brood goes through.
Anything else, social faux pas or bioloigical, that you think worthy of self-effacement you go girl!
“Spectacularly and ballistically they vomited, in defiance of dry-clean only garments and all local galactic ordinances about having to obey therules of physics in this arm of the Milky Way” made me chuckle in my underpants.
January 15th, 2007 at 9:02 am
So…. No, really, you were sitting around eating bon-bons and watching Season 5 of “Buffy,” weren’t you?
January 15th, 2007 at 12:25 pm
There are worse things to do in one’s underpants than chuckle je pense!
January 15th, 2007 at 2:54 pm
So the world conspires to keep you from writing and then when you do write, simply about not writing, it almost makes me wish you didn’t write more often, just for the posts. (How’s that for annoyingly twisted logic.)
Love hearing your perspective on Amurka, and not just because I am with you every step along the way. Sadly though, I still think the guy believes that there was “something” that everyone died for. Eventually, I guess you just start believing your own bullshit.
January 15th, 2007 at 8:46 pm
Yes, these explinations are quite amusing, looking at them from afar. Only one question: any photos or video from the Parent’s Evening? Just wanted to make sure you spelled things correctly.
January 15th, 2007 at 10:50 pm
Oh God, I know the feeling.
And how, luv. And how.
Never apologise, never explain. It’s your blog and you can neglect it if you want to.
January 16th, 2007 at 12:07 pm
I guessed Christmas was lovely in spite of the sicknesses and am delighted that it was the best ever. You deserve it.oxoxoxo
January 16th, 2007 at 5:57 pm
Nice blog! I’ll be reading you in the future.
January 16th, 2007 at 9:10 pm
Nanas, you’re a sharp one. My particular laxative brew consisted of herbal tea, a brief tumble with Mr. Edgar Allan Poe and some sweet, sweet time alone.
Tatties, it was only through the sublime killing power of Dettol and its liberal application on all the doorknobs, light switches and kettles of the Problem House that I managed to avoid the whole household getting it. We had quite a crew over the season and it could have been apocalyptic. Hope your Christmas was a good one too, hon’.
SafeT, what is up with your website, or rather my access to it? I can get there all right but, about 2/3 of the time, when I try to click on anything my screen jams and the whole window shuts right down. Is it me?
Sparrow, bon-bons were/are a part of it, I’ll admit. I’m still working my way through all the biscuit boxes and chocolate selection packs that weren’t eaten then. I might be the only person in the TV-receiving world not to have seen Buffy. Not for any particular reason, I hear it’s pretty good. Our paths haven’t crossed yet, that’s all. How, bout that Mr Laurie getting his Golden Globe last night though, eh? If I could have been sure of somebody standing by with smelling salts and a fan I would have swooned. As it was they weren’t and so I merely squirmed with desire and yes, I’ll say it, love. Oh Housey! Oh Sweet Housey…!
Pat – cooking omelettes in one’s underpants – all that hot spitting oil right at tummy level. It’s much more painful than chuckling in one’s underpants, and, in my opinion, worse. I’ll take a good underpants chuckle any day of the week.
Mom 101, “Eventually, I guess you just start believing your own bullshit”. I know I do. Hope you and the oven-bun are keeping well, sweetheart.
Vegas Joe, it is better to view an explanation based on vomit from afar. And then disinfect your screen afterwards. I’m sorry though, the police still have the only pictures of Parent’s Night. They were deemed too abominable for the newspapers.
Infantile, welcome! I’ve been over at yours and I can see how you know a thing or two about emesis. Here’s hoping you won’t be bothered by that next time round.
Pat, darling, thanks. It was warm and merry and I didn’t overcook the turkey as I did on Thanksgiving. There are some pictures I’m going to try and post in a bit. I always enjoy next day’s warmed up leftovers better than the actual Christmas feast. The flavours seem to deepen in the fridge and there is no work! A day of sloth and gluttony.
Too lively, hello! Thank you for stopping by.
January 17th, 2007 at 6:51 pm
Hi Sami and a Bliadhna Mhath Ur to you to my dear! All well here. Glad to read your blog again. I have a Myspace now if you fancy a wee peek. Not the FM from Dingwall though! (should you do a search you will see there are two Gaelic-singing FMs in the Highlands. Very confusing). Anyway, it’s lovely to be back in Sam’s Blogland. I missed it a lot! Lots of love to you and family. xx
January 19th, 2007 at 11:59 am
Your apron is unparelleled.
I’m glad you’re still wearing it.
January 19th, 2007 at 12:18 pm
Does Kieran’s comment mean your pics are available? I can’t remember how to access them?
January 20th, 2007 at 9:04 am
Is there anything in this wide, wide, wurrold more Scottish than projectile vomit half an hour after the bells? Man it makes ma hert swell wi? pride, that yer keeping up the auld traditions in Americky. Aye.
It must have been very worrying for you and it?s no comfort, but if you cast your mind back as far as it will go, you may remember that as pre school infants we were terribly good at spewing up all over the place. Made us what we are today. Bruttain?s hardy sons.
January 22nd, 2007 at 7:00 pm
Prince charles lives by the dictum “Never Complain and never explain.” Its how to be a true ruler of a free people. No one loves a whinging monarch, and no one listens to a presidents apologies.
January 22nd, 2007 at 7:26 pm
Helga, I’ve just found a book that may interest you, given the discussion over at yours. It’s called The Cleft and it’s by Doris Lessing. Here is a review of it: http://www.theage.com.au/news/book-reviews/the-cleft/2007/01/19/1169095962347.html.
In fact I’ll just pop over to yours and give you the link there too.
Fluffag, I love your MySpace site. The songs are beautiful, and you sound like an angel. I’ve got plans to email you later.
Kieran, I will explain about my apron in a future post.
Pat, I haven’t got organized with the pictures yet but you get to my Flickr page by clicking on the link under the LibraryThing thing.
January 22nd, 2007 at 8:10 pm
I can’t help but apologize, Helga. It’s ‘cos I’m British. I think there’s a gene.