Three of them:
1) Months on end spent vomiting really is excellent preparation for parenthood. Allows you to stand calmly in the bathroom door at midnight and give your child practical tips for dealing with her stomach virus. And you are thinking, “Ha. Wish I couldda kept my popsicles down when I was pregnant with you.” But you don’t say that. You are tender and encouraging, and very pleased with the thought that the likely break is coming not at 14 weeks, or 24 weeks, or heaven forbid 40 weeks, but probably in just a few hours. Still, you will be quite happy when it is all over.
2) P.G. Wodehouse. Our friend. Just the companion for the restless mother, relaxing in the wee hours between pep-rallies in the bathroom. Better on the second reading, I’ll add.
3) H/T to The Pulp.It for this article on why you should not shop on Sundays. And since I am not afraid to be insufferable, let me just totally ruin your plans . . . Going out to brunch does more of the same. Just say no.
Sunday: Get up. Get a shower. Go to Mass. Come home. Rest.
Works great every time*. Try it.
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*Actual mileage may very, subject to some limitations due to VOMITING CHILDREN. DID I MENTION VOMITING CHILDREN?! Actually just one of them. SuperHusband took the healthy people to the usual mass then penitentially kept them out on the playground awaaaay from the ill sibling. I went to the Spanish mass after lunch. Lovely Mass, need to go to it more often. Note to self: Learn Spanish. Worth the risk.
Thanks for plugging ThePulp.it!
My pleasure — it’s a great service. (And sorry for the delay on getting your comment up — it was lost in the spam box.)
Sunday: Get up. Get a shower. Go to Mass. Eat at the Knights of Columbus breakfast and schmooze your fellow parishioners. Come home. Rest.
Speaking of other peoples’ vomit (and poop and pee) is there a better character-builder than cleaning up that sort of thing?
Hmmn, Christian. I don’t know. I’ll argue that cleaning up other people’s children’s outpourings, yes, that builds maximum character.
But I regret to observe that in cleaning up after my only children, the positive is offset by a)the feeling of smug superiority that I’m good at this, and the spouse not so much, and b)isn’t this a free pass to goof off the rest of the day?
But I suspect overall the character situation at least comes out even. Which is pretty good, on what might otherwise be high-concupiscence day.
Whoa. I am just stunned and shamed. I never, ever connected those dots. What about pizza during the game?! Oh, dear, oh dear.
See, now you know.
But fear not for the game.
Two magic words: Freezer Section.
Jen.
We almost never eat frozen pizza, despite our serious pizza habit. Carry out or homemade, so there’s the other answer.
Yes, homemade would work. I was thinking of the other foods in the freezer section. I guess I hadn’t fully understood the pizza-football connection.
(I eat all three, though it has been many years, I am sorry to say, since I last made homemade pizza. Used to be every Friday.)