I am slowly clawing my way out from a pile of papers, books, and notes. set to arrive at the surface sometime after my last final exam is done with, tossed to the annals of my transcript forevermore.
Despite all the crushing responsibility to get good grades on these exams, our family managed to make the trip to
King's Island on Friday. We were rained out for most of the day, but finally the sun broke through and we headed on out for a fantastic afternoon and evening, culminating in fireworks. I rode the park's wooden roller coaster, which has always been one of my favorite genres of coasters, right up there with loop-de-loop ones. It was a pleasant pseudo journey down the streets of my childhood as well, since I went to Disneyland, Knott's Berry Farm, and Universal Studios...it had that oddly magical, warped-universe feel to it. I could tell just by peeking into the wide eyes of the kids that they were experiencing many of the same things I did as a child going to all those places.
I promptly got sick sick sick the next morning, which involved lots of groaning, whining, and puking on my part, followed by lots of merry mess-making for the kids' contribution. My husband did his best to keep up, but there is only one of him and five of them, so it was like throwing water on a fire with a medicine dropper. Luckily, the fun of riding my first roller coasters in ten years (!) preceded my tour of duty in bed with a metal bowl clutched to my face.
This morning I felt much better, and I didn't even cry when it was time to take the girls to the dentist. Muse cried when she found out she needs to be sedated to fill several cavities in the back of her mouth. She felt better when I promised her a trip to
COSI, with a friend of her choice, upon completion of the dental-work-while-u-sleep.
She felt even better when my muslimah friend called and invited me and the kids over to play for the afternoon....considering that Mr. K was laid up sick with the same blaargy sickness I was, I was glad to get out of my pre-end-o'the-quarter shambles of a household filled with dirty laundry and scattered toys...Michelle's house was filled with much
neater piles of laundry and toys--for she is a SAHM, and her kids number only three.
I discovered this afternoon, as I lay basking in the glow of my friends and my adopted family at her house, that what I had searched for in friends all this time has been all wrong. I wanted to have back friends that I had lost, for no particularly good reason, even though they had turned into horrible people with a host of problems all their own. Their lives had become unfathomable to me, but I pined for these people just the same. I guess I got caught up in the strange allure that wanna-be subcultureites from the suburbs have...all the "do-good" intentions but none of the heart. I am the dork with the egalitarian husband ,who always annoyed people by being too vegan, having too many cloth diapers, too many kids....too
much for the "pluck yer brows" crowd.
I have had great friends all along these past few years....and I never really took a moment to just appreciate them.
Thanks, friends. I might not have many of you, but at least I know you won't try to sleep with my husband or look down on me for my beliefs.
