The Veil of Perfection

 

The vaccine I received was a one dose, which, some hypothesize has a bit more bang to it than the two dose version (where the "bang" is distributed over two vaccines).  I was all set to muscle my way through any symptoms I might have.  All night after my shot, I felt like my heart was racing.  Simultaneously, I felt exhausted and hot/then chilled. And oh so achey all over.  In the morning, I decided since I was awake, I might as well work out.  I thought it might help with any soreness.  I lived to regret that decision.  As soon as I was finished, and I'd set up breakfast food, I went back to bed.  I was in bed most of the morning.  Thom and Benja had their vaccines (conveniently) scheduled for that day, so off they went around lunch time.  I was sleeping and Lotta, determination in her voice, agreed to make lunch.  As I slept, I suddenly heard a quiet voice say, "Mom".  And I jerked awake, as you do, when your mom radar is on (which I think stays switched on permanently once you have children.)  Zibbi requested that I emerge from the bedroom to cut up strawberries (which we didn't actually have) because she didn't think it safe for Lotta to weld a knife.  I came downstairs and cut slices of bread for Zibbi, as Lotta, furiously looked on.  Lotta became so frustrated at one point, that she started sobbing and I gave her a huge hug, telling her that I knew how much she was wanting to help.  And I truly appreciated her attempt.  On the other hand, I know that for right now, Zibbi thinks I am perfection, I am the one and only one who can perform certain tasks to her satisfaction (like toasting a bagel).  I know that oh too soon, this veil of illusion will fall and she will discover that I too have struggles and weaknesses and faults.  But that morning, I wasn't prepared to let her in on the secret.  Not just yet.  

Getting my Chit Chat On

A few weeks ago,  I walked to St. Vinny's with a friend for a little thrift break.  As we chatted in one of the aisles, not one, not two, but THREE people piped into our conversation to add insight or opinions to what we were saying.  What I loved about it is how it felt like everyone was just missing chatting with a stranger, so when they saw the opportunity they grabbed it.   One of the conversations was with a fellow Marquette mother (that is the school Lotta attends) telling us that they were continuing to keep their son virtual.  She said she was partially doing it because they needed some families to stay virtual in order to maintain a distance in the classroom.  But, she shared, she really liked having her children around, so she'd continue as long as she could.  It was so very sweet.   Then, I kept running into the mom and her third grade son throughout the store.  At some point, he found a sun hat to try on, and he was parading around the store displaying his very festive find.  I liked them even more than I already did.  I mean similar conversations have happened before, especially in Dig n Save (the next level of thrifting, where all the clothes are in big bins you have to dig through).  I suspect that just during this time, I, and maybe the other customers, don't take it for granted like we used to.  

Some Shrinking May Occur

 

A few weeks ago, Benja was issued a teeny tiny h'orderves fork and the smallest spoon Zibbi could locate.  We all wondered aloud if he would get a bigger fork on his birthday, as he turned 16.  Zibbi declared that no, in fact, his fork would be getting even smaller.  I mean how much smaller do they go?  Barbie sized?  Maybe the Barbie platoon is helping her out.  Time will tell.

Costco Pick Up

I was waiting in line to check out at Costco, when the couple in front of my turned around and started pointing in my direction.  The woman then said something to me, which I could not hear nor understand due to our masks.  She stepped closer to explain that she and her husband were looking at the nuts behind me.  I quipped, "I thought you'd said, 'hey look, that lady is NUTS', and you aren't wrong."  She chuckled, then said, "You are delightful" and then, "I notice you aren't wearing a wedding band." (The FIRST person to notice since I stopped wearing it due to "ring rot" where the skin around your ring starts getting irritated.  Then, it became too small.  Maybe it shrunk?)  I stammered, "Oh, no, I AM married, for a couple of decades actually."  She told me she had two sons she was constantly on the look out to pair up.  One son had divorced two years ago and still has not dated since.  I suggested maybe he start Zumba, because as I recall those classes were almost all women.  The men attending get a lot of attention.  She didn't think that would work, she thought he would probably just be identified as gay in a Zumba class.  She lamented that he wouldn't even let her help him set up an online dating account.  (Weird, not wanting your mom to help with that.)  As she checked out, she shouted back at me, "Tell your husband that he has quite a catch!"  And of course, I DID.  Who knows he might start doing the Costco runs from now on.  Apparently, I am a hot ticket item there.  

Covid Vaccine!

Today I received my vaccine!  (I was sent an invitation after signing up through the Wisconsin Vaccine Registry.  I reserved a spot at noon.)  When I arrived at the Alliant Energy Center, there were signs leading me to a section of the parking lot where vehicles were being parked in long rows.  Every so often the parking attendant would instruct a row to drive.  So I waited in my car, windows down, breeze blowing and read my book as I waited.  It was glorious.  After a bit, my row started to move, and I quickly turned the car on, threw my book aside and put my mask on.  I followed the signs and at the end was an irate traffic guard yelling at cars.  Fortunately, I did not upset him, and proceeded to the lane he indicated, giving him a friendly wave as I passed.  Everyone inside the facility was efficient and friendly.  As I drove in, I had this wave of emotions, thinking of ALL the people in that huge area getting vaccinated.  That we were all protecting ourselves and our loved ones and each other.  How each of us played a part in ending this pandemic.  I felt emotional thinking of how wonderful it will feel to not feel so constantly afraid that I might pass Covid on to Benja (who has a number of risk factors), and Lotta, who has asthma which ALWAYS flares up for any respiratory illness.  The person who gave me the shot and I talked about how Zibbi had suggested I wear a sparkly tank top, to really announce to the world, "I am getting vaccinated today!"  The shot giver instructed me to go to the parking lot and wait 15 minutes to make sure I didn't have a reaction.  She said that if I did have a reaction, to honk my horn and put on my hazard lights and an EMT would come check on me.  As I exited the facility (another, maybe the same) traffic guard began screaming and shouting and waving his arms, trying to tell me where to go.  The more he screamed, the more I could not interpret which way to go.  I just kept driving in a somewhat straight fashion.  He reminded me of a traffic police officer Thom and I used to watch in Chicago.  She was constantly enraged.  Every single time.  We would go to a coffee shop on Michigan Avenue where we could watch her angry show.  Let me tell you that it is not as entertaining when you are on the receiving end of that anger.  Anyway, I kept driving (in the wrong direction).  And finally figured out where I was supposed to go.  At the other end of the parking lot, as I attempted to re-enter the line, was a quiet, fastidious parking attendant.  He was carefully and slowly parking each car.  The vehicle in front of me parked slightly over the line and he calmly requested they try again.  I carefully, carefully, pulled into the spot, I could not take the ire of another at that point.  When suddenly, the car behind me starting honking and honking.  And I thought, "Oh boy! What now?  Do they know I am from Missouri?"(Apparently, Missouri drivers are known as bad drivers because Driver's Education is optional rather than mandatory).  When I then realized the person behind me was having an allergic reaction to the shot, which made me first sigh a sigh of relief, then look up in alarm.  An EMT came rushing over and assisted him, he was fine, but his wife decided to drive him, rather than the other way round.  Finally, I went home.  Where Zibbi has been reminding me all day to drink water and move my arm.  (I let her know this morning that I am better at reminding others than myself to do those things. So, she's been helping me out.)  And boy oh boy am I exhausted.  Who knew a vaccine could be such an emotional roller coaster?