All posts by Iris

But he missed the rugs, both of them

Portraits of People and Places

I was curled up in my favorite seat at the coffee shop reading a book when a mom ducked into the restroom half carrying, have pushing her young son ahead of her. My first thought was that he was having a potty emergency. He’d probably been engrossed in something and then suddenly realized that he had to go — that he’d had to go for a while now. I remember those moments from when my siblings were young, those sudden looks of surprised urgency, those mad dashes for the bathroom, those occasional times when no mad dash could be fast enough.

Then a minute or two later the dad and two older brothers also drifted into the restroom, the boys’ eyes wide and worried looking. And from inside the crowded little room the youngest had started to cry.

Evidently shooed out of the restroom, the two brothers were clearly at a loss about what to do with themselves while their parents were in there with their baby brother. Picking me at random, the oldest boy, maybe 7 or 8, came to tell me, “My brother just suddenly threw up. Next door. Did you know they’re having a sale next door? Well they are. 40% off. They’re going out of business.”

He went back to check on his brother, only to be shooed out of the restroom once more. He wandered down the wall toward the front door, his middle brother trailing after him. Wandered back. Came over to me again. “We didn’t know he was sick when we left this morning. And then he just threw up next door. But luckily he missed the rugs. There were two of them, right next to each other, but he threw up right in the middle of them. We didn’t know he was sick until then.”

His middle brother hung back a bit, sucking his middle fingers and looking at me silently, glancing over his shoulder at the restroom door every once in a while. From inside we could all hear the baby brother crying. Finally the two boys wandered over to a table and sat down by themselves, talking quietly to each other, waiting.

As the family left, crying youngest boy in his dad’s arms, the oldest boy told the couple sitting nearest the front door, “He’s crying because he threw up. We didn’t know he was sick.”

Rx – take one Maru and call me in the morning

Living with Cats, Me and My Life

Waiting for me at the end of a long day was a link from my mom to a compilation of Maru the Cat’s greatest moments from the past year. I’m not really a YouTube denizen. I usually go there looking for something specific, and usually don’t click through to related videos. The longest I’ve spent on YouTube at a time is probably in the tens of minutes. Up until last night, that is. Last night I spent two hours clicking through Maru videos.

If you don’t know Maru, here’s the second compilation video. (The first and third are similarly funny viewing, particularly parts where he dives headlong into small boxes.)

I find that I’m particularly fond of Maru’s love of diving head first into boxes. And his love of very small boxes. He gets really frustrated if he can’t get into boxes. And pretty much anything called “Desperate Maru” is worth watching for the sheer persistence of the thing (there are a few videos named that). Apparently he also likes to put bags on his head (he does this in several videos, including one with bubble wrap).

And today, just to round out my cat video tastes, I watched this one of a kitten dreaming. I watched it several times. How many, you ask? Several. I refuse to say more.

Yes, I am becoming a crazy cat lady.

Hyper-vigilance backfiring

Me and My Life

Apparently I have Dermatographia, which essentially means that I’m allergic to skin injury. Well, more correctly, it means that my skin produces hives in reaction to being scratched or hit or exposed to extreme temperatures, but really, that sounds an awful lot like being allergic to injury to me. And I applaud my body on its choice of allergy. This is far more logical than being allergic to, say, eggs. Eggs are good for you. Eggs are a pain to avoid. Skin injuries, on the other hand, have no real up-side, so I’m totally on board with being allergic to them.

Apparently, my Dermatographia has gone “haywire.” (That’s the technical term, as used by my brand new-to-me dermatologist.) Apparently now all it can take to induce hives is brushing up against something, feeling a breeze, getting warm or cold, or wearing clothes. In other words, now I’m allergic to the sense of touch.

I’ll take Ridiculous But Hilarious Diagnoses for $1000, please.

From the Department of Unfortunate Transitions

Me and My Life

On NPR, a concerned voice warned me, “This may be the first generation where our children will grow up to be sicker and have shorter lifespans than the generation before.”

“Members like you make this possible,” an anchor’s voice informed me, “We are grateful for your support. Please contribute online or call…”

Wait, what?

Oh, right, this must have been the end of a montage of recent stories meant to remind me of the high quality reporting NPR provides.

Two steps forward, one step back

Me and My Life

Spring arrived. Official spring, that is, as well as a few promising leaf buds on some of the braver trees. Two steps forward.

But here in my world our long winter refuses retreat peacefully to its arctic summer home. A weekend snowstorm made driving an exercise in bravado in the near-white-out conditions. Another snow storm is coming in a couple of days. One step back.

—

Meanwhile, I’ve been getting stronger. Sure there are lots of difficult days, and not every day is better than the last, but compared to a year ago things are better. Sometimes I can even walk for a mile at a time. And so, in a fit of optimism, I bought the Wii Fit set. I’ve heard lovely stories about games that get you moving without feeling strenuous. That seems right up my alley. Two steps forward.

It arrived just as I hit a goodly slump; I was too wiped out even to open the Amazon box for a week much less unpack the game. But things are getting on a more even keel now, so I spent some time opening a couple weeks’ worth of mail. And the Wii Fit set. I was a little dismayed that part of the installation process involved it calculating my BMI and my basic coordination skills. I was more dismayed when the cheerful music accompanied the happy announcement that the Wii considers me to be among the population “least likely to get sick.” Shut up, Wii. Keep your cheerful music and your boundless optimism to yourself. In fact, go sit in that corner and think for a while on the error of your ways. One step back.