The rectangular babysitter & gym assessment

What do these have in common, why put them together? Hopefully that will become amusingly clear later on. Certainly I think so; but my humor can sometimes be a little odd.

I don’t like using that popular rectangular babysitter that beams things through the air to human brains. I make a few reluctant exceptions are 20-30 min on a Saturday morning, which is the only morning when hubby & I can stay in bed a little & we don’t always want to share it with the kids (so lets just say thats for our marriage), and when the kids or I are sick and I need them to stay put and keep quiet (not characteristics I normally consider healthy in kids).

However, I absolutely LOVE that rectangle when I wake up with a head so sore that I need my husband to tell me to take pain killers (yes, your head can be so sore that you can’t think well enough to medicate it yourself), and is accompanied by muscle spasms so bad that my daughter finds me whimpering & sobbing in the bathroom till she calls daddy to diagnose me & put me to bed.

Apparently that delicious Hake I ate on our date last night must have contained some variant of natural or artificial MSG. Or maybe it was the ‘home baked’ muffins I had yesterday morning at Bible study, they may have contained artificial sweeteners or preservatives because a new member made them and I didn’t want to interrogate her (sweeteners & most preservatives affect me slower than MSG). I am only able to write this because of extremely strong pain meds, 3 hours of TV-baby sitting & an extremely dark room.

That brings me to my next point. The wonders of technology that allow me to control that previously uncontrollable rectangle, and I can do it from any dark corner of the house I choose. I absolutely love this development, but it may be separating my kids from their peers a bit.

My youngest was given Spongebob Squarepants treats at school this week. She recognized the character, even knew the theme song etc., but upon conversion it came out that she knows him from watching Nerdy Nummies which the three of us (esp. her) absolutely love. If we get to Thursday without me putting the latest episode on, she asks if Ro is OK, concerned that maybe something has happened to her favorite cook to prevent her from posting a video on You Tube… She had just naturally assumed that all her friends watched Ro & had seen her show on SS lemony bars when they all knew the character. Because I’m in control, it had never occurred to me to play Spongebob, a show I consider pointless & which they had never requested. I felt really bad, but when I explained it all to her in private she looked at me and said “mum, is there another Nerdy Nummies yet?”, still no request for the clothed sponge.

Onto something else that would never occur to me:
Just under two weeks ago, I went for my assessment with the biokineticist, my first in nearly 12 years. When she heard about my migraines (as described above), and the meds I take when I actually have one, she made me promise never to gym on those meds… A promise she made me repeat when she sadistically took me through my tailor made program this week. Now I know I’ve done some crazy things while in pain, like take my daughter to swimming lessons while in labour (nearly resulting in her sister being born at the swimming school, her teacher still brings it up), but labour pain really isn’t that bad compared to a migraine, at least not mine.

I think I’ve mentioned how unbelievably grateful I am for technology, so that I can control the TV without actually having to leave my dark room & cozy bed, & how going to the bathroom results in whimpering spasms… So why (breath, no swearing! Breath!) why would I drive to a fluorescently lit building with pumping music, just so that I can force my body to move? The mere thought seems so ludicrous that I really want to see the sort of (breath) human that would actually do that. I just want to go watch them with that morbid fascination that I think must have fueled the victorian circus exhibits.


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