A couple of years ago, Sean and I watched the Adam Sandler movie, Click. While I am generally not a fan of Adam Sandler, I was intrigued by the concept behind the story. A man is given a remote control that allows him to fast-forward through parts of his life. He starts using it to skip conversations with his wife that he finds boring, get to a promotion faster, and generally bypassing anything mundane or unpleasant.
What the man didn’t know was that the remote was recording his preferences. Soon, it was automatically fast-forwarding through parts of his life, even when he didn’t push the button. Before he knows it, his desire to only experience the good and exciting has left him at the end of his life, having missed most of what happened.
I haven’t thought about this movie for a long time. I couldn’t get it out of my mind today.
I woke up with one of my pregnancy aches making it impossible for me to lay on my left side without serious pain. As I pulled myself up to sitting, Sean informed me that he and Eli both appeared to be coming down with something.
As I tried to eat breakfast and get myself ready for the day, I was under constant assault from Noah and Caleb who were arguing about the television remote and access to Noah’s bedroom.
Wyatt asked if he could play their new Lego Indiana Jones game on the Wii. Caleb decided he wanted to play, too. Suddenly, I was dealing with arguments over who got the #1 controller. I sorted that out, then listened to Wyatt complain incessantly about the fact that they weren’t beating the level because Caleb doesn’t know how to do things in the game.
I left to take Eli to his 15-month well-baby checkup (convenient, since it also provided a follow-up for his surgery). As I started to drive to the doctor’s office, my dashboard informed me that I was 17 miles to an empty tank. Great! The last time I was in the car, the low fuel indicator wasn’t even on, but Sean had driven it a few times since then and didn’t warn me. By the time I got to the doctor’s office, I was down to five miles from empty. Thank heavens there was a gas station less than a mile away that I could use after the appointment.
Eli was definitely still leery about being near doctors after what he went through last week. He glared at the pediatrician and honestly looked like he was ready to break down in tears by the time she left, even though she barely even touched him. Even so, she discovered that he currently has fluid behind one eardrum and a full-blown ear infection in the other ear. Great. I had no idea. Poor kid.
As I pulled into the garage after the doctor’s appointment, I noticed the FULL 5-gallon gas can that had been sitting next to my practically empty car. When I called Sean to tell him exactly how frustrating that sight was after my trip to the doctor’s office, he explained that he hadn’t used it on the car because he bought it for the next time he used the tractor.
(Forget fast-forwarding through that one, a good smack to the side of the head really would have sufficed for that particular bit of logic.)
For the first time since Thursday’s/Friday’s trip to the emergency room, I attempted a nap today. Unfortunately, the ear infection was apparently affecting Eli and he couldn’t stay comfortable and sleep. As a result, I’m still nowhere close to closing the gap on the massive sleep deficit that I’m running on.
After naptime, I took the kids to the store to pick up Eli’s medicine. Some friendly but clueless old man proceeded to ask me if I adopted any of my kids, or if they were all “mine.” WTH??? That’s just what my six-year-old son, who asked me the other day why he looks different from the rest of us, needs. To be singled out by some stranger suggesting he’s not “mine” like his brothers are. Given the situation, I did my best by forcing a smile and telling the man that they were all “mine” but, yes, we had adopted one of them. Then, I proceeded with a shopping trip full of kids ignoring me and generally leaving me at my wit’s end. It was not pretty. We came home and I made all three of the older ones go to their rooms.
Various other annoyances while I made dinner. Eli started acting upset during dinner. After eating, Sean suggested that the kids go play outside. Caleb interpreted this as instruction to go ride his bike in the street (alone—thank heavens we have almost no traffic on my street). As this is becoming a regular battle, I made him go to bed early, then listened to him cry over the injustice for the next hour and a half.
By now, Eli is miserable. I’m not sure if it is the ear infection, an upset stomach from the antibiotic, or a reaction to his immunizations (which the pediatrician assured me wouldn’t be an issue to give him today since he wasn’t running a fever). I gave him Tylenol and am hoping that whatever it is resolves quickly.
Yeah, I think that I pretty much would have had myself way into my geriatric years just based on today alone. The kids are finally tucked into bed and everyone is (for the moment) quiet. At this point, I just want to find myself a dark, quiet corner to ball up into a fetal position in.
Of course, due to my current “condition,” that’s pretty much going to be physically impossible for another two months.