Sunday, November 1, 2009
Word of the day: migraine
There are some places that you really, really don't want to be when you have a migraine. I can tell you that when you are greeted by four tiny smiling faces on a morning after you've battled a vicious headache all night, it's pretty pleasant. At least I think this is true. I don't actually know what that is like. This Saturday morning, when I was home alone because hubby went back to work after knee surgery, my munchkins woke up extra-special early and covertly ate most of a brand-new box of Lucky Charms before I could even drag my pathetic self out of the bed. They then gathered their sugar-crazed bodies and greeted me by pile-driving each other on top of the bed where I lay trying not to cry because the sunlight was searing my eyeballs. I slipped out from under the covers and crawled to the bathroom, hoping I could lock the door before my youngest child noticed, but I failed, and he who might be the loudest child I have ever known joined me on the floor. He wanted to know why I had tears on my face, but he inquired in a way that involved so much volume and spit that I was rendered utterly unable to answer. Somehow, by the grace of my merciful God, they all left me alone and I was able to eat some Excedrin and stumble to the kitchen in search of coffee.
It was then that I remembered that my oldest child had a party to attend that morning with his soccer team for the end of their season. As I realized this, I became somewhat nauseated because this party was to occur at one place you definitely never, ever for any reason want to venture in the midst of a migraine: McDonald's Playland. Parents, if you don't feel me on this one, you are not human. By the time his party started I was down to only two children (thank you, mother-in-law) and the Excedrin was beginning to shrink the headache, so I felt somewhat equipped to survive the trek to McDonald's. Thankfully, the staff there realized it was Halloween and they were thoughtful enough to set out a lovely table full of candy, cookies, cupcakes, and fruit punch because we all know children are not already hyper enough when they arrive at a McDonald's Playland. My boys were both victims of the Mom Laser Beam Eyeballs every time they tried to sneak anything off of that table, but either way, we all survived. My oldest boy got his trophy, nobody noticed my second-oldest boy when he tripped over absolutely nothing and then looked around quickly to check if anyone had seen, my headache eventually left me, and I got to hear a hilarious conversation between a dad and a mystery person on the other end of his cell phone that involved a lot of veiled profanity and animated talk about Nascar. Clearly a win-win-win-win scenario. But just to be on the safe side, there will be no magically delicious fuel for wrestling or trips to Ronald McDonald-land for my offspring next weekend.