I knew I felt a little off on Friday. I thought it was just the stress of all that had gone before, and waking up at 4 am, and doing the train thing (an unknown), and the anticipation of meeting a bunch of people I didn't know (which, depending on my mood, can be fine or really draining).
I felt surprisingly tired that day, and found myself having difficulty putting words together in the way that I do when I've been awake for weeks.
I had a tiny, niggling headache when I finally got home around 10:30 pm, but downloaded what I needed to, and was finally in bed about 12:30 am Saturday and up again at 6:30 to get the daughter to Pentathlon.
Pentathlon, in some ways, is as draining for the parents as for the kids. There's a lot of hurry up and wait, and for me, the worst part is talking to some of the other parents. My kids go to a competitive private school, and there are some parents who are constantly jockeying for position. Because both my kids are academically very successful, I am constantly drilled for information about our "tactics" for raising and educating them. I find it very disturbing and intrusive, particularly when they are second-guessing how I'm raising my kids or second-guessing themselves because I'm doing things differently. Evidently, there is something wrong with me because I don't care about their kids' music lessons or whether their kids are taking SAT II classes. I think I must have said 18 times yesterday, "All kids are different. All kids have different needs..."
And I believe that. Most kids will find their own success and happiness if their parents support their children's strengths and stop trying to push them into becoming geniuses. Genius is not made, and is pretty much overrated, anyway.
Needless to say, by about 1 or 2 in the afternoon, my headache had escalated into the sort of skull-crunching, brain-melting pain that makes me a little concerned that I'm actually having a stroke or an aneurysm has ruptured. I don't say that lightly because my tolerance for pain is unusually high.
I got home mid-afternoon, and after an hour, noticed I suddenly had a sore throat.
Gotta pay dues...
What annoys me most is that Pentathlon put paid (unless we hear that daughter, who was a Science Fair runner up is going to County because someone else drops out, please God, no) to the never-ending sequence of stuff that demands my attention (ok, yeah, I have to help with the 7th grade Spring Party, and eventually, I've got the Graduation Luncheon again), and the second the pressure came off, I get sick.
I know, I'm whining. Singing the blues for a bad cold.
Of course, my beloved D. saved the day by sending me an email that said something like "You must fly to Toronto," which made me laugh out loud, and was immediately followed by a Neiman Marcus email advertising evening wear with a stunning blue sparkly cocktail dress.
(She sneezes meditatively.)
Go listen to some good music: "It Don't Come Easy" from the album Blast From Your Past by Ringo Starr.