How to be a Domestic Goddess, even in the face of food poisoning...
|Despite my efforts of makeup and hair, green is the color my face decided on.|
I don't get out much. It's an ordeal. I have to run all day to make sure that everything is done, taken care of, set up for a successful night of me being away. It also helps ease the guilt of being gone if I have all of the laundry done and put away, dinner made, baths done and time spent with children making up for the few hours I might be gone.
It has literally been months since I have been out, without children (or hubs) for an evening of fun with the ladies, so you can imagine how happy I was to get an invite from a close friend to go to a party - this time, it wasn't Tastefully Simple, or Pampered Chef, or any of those - it was a Norwex cleaning supplies party. My, how my life has taken a turn. The really pathetic thing is how excited I was to go.
Hubs and the kids were finally all set. I was ready with 5 minutes to spare before my girlfriend came to pick me up. I savored the quiet while I waited by the door. And then, all of a sudden, it happened. Do you remember in Along Came Polly when Ben Stiller and Jennifer Aniston are eating at that restaurant and his belly started to grumble in that funny way? That's the kind of grumble that I felt just before I got picked up. I totally brushed it off as a little indigestion and hoped for the best - nothing was going to get in the way of my night out for a glass of wine and some girl talk with people my own age. Nothing.
|Along Came Polly Restaurant Scene..only I wasn't sweating. Yet.|
We get to the party, and it is warm and cozy with a fireplace, wine, kind faces and happy laughs. I can feel my shoulders start to loosen, my face glow with enjoyment, and the excitement start to build. Keep in mind again, I don't get out much, so this is such a nice change from the madness of bedtime that I am usually doing at this time of night. We chit chat, talk about what else, our kids, and of course how nice it is to have a night off from them. The wine bottles open, glasses get filled, the room starts spinning. Wait. What? What the hell is going on...I'm feeling...ummm....woozy. Food poisoning-type-of- woozy.
Almost an hour passes, and finally the person representing the cleaning company decides to take the reigns and start the presentation. I sit calmly on the barstool, afraid to make a move, continuing to participate in idle chit chat while suppressing my urge to lose my cookies. Have you ever been in this position? The sheer will needed to put off the inevitable is overwhelming. It is physically draining, and mentally almost impossible. Flashback to the movie Bridesmaids. I was living it. Why, why the hell did I have to eat that damn piece of pizza. Why, Jesus, Why?
|Remember Kristen Wiig in Bridesmaids, how she was trying to keep calm even though she was shaking and sweating? Do you see where this story is going? (imdb.com)|
She starts her spiel...only to me, it is in a long, drawn out, deep robotic voice. I am fading, and I am fading fast. I need a bathroom. Great - these people are probably like - ummm you've been here for an hour..and you already have to go to the bathroom? Who brought the lightweight? I excuse myself weakly and head to the bathroom. I don't know which end it is going to come out of, but it's coming. I pray it's the tail end..I cannot bear the thought of my loud, ungraceful way of vomiting to send shrieks of panic through the party. Please God, don't let this turn into the Excorist. I get to the bathroom and break out into a cold sweat, the demon makes a quick, but violent, liquid exit from the rear. By the grace of God and every good deed I'd ever done in my life, it was quick and relatively painless. In under a minute, my entire intestinal track was evacuated and I was left weak, void of any fluids and completely disoriented. Thank God the hostess had a beautiful array of strong Yankee Candles in her bathroom. I composed myself, washed my hands and face in cold water, and reentered the party just a few short minutes later, with no one even noticing. I had lost so much fluid in such a very short window of time, I nearly fell over. I pulled myself together just long enough to get back on my stool and smile looking around at the fancy free expressions on everyone's face. How I wished I could be back home in my yoga pants right about now, lying on my bathroom floor, with my cheek on the cold tile. I needed water, and I needed it fast, but alas, this was not a playdate - this was an adult ladies' night - no water to be found - just wine. I wasn't strong enough to just ask for it - all I could do was sit still.
I couldn't help but ask myself what the proper etiquette for this scenario might be? Had I driven myself, I could've said that I had a sick child that I had to get home to, or something to that effect. But the poor girl who brought me deserved a night out too didn't she? So I had to wait it out. Carefully and patiently. I sat there with visions of me projectile vomiting all over the hostess's beautiful wine and cheese spread on the counter. I was a sick mess hiding inside myself just yearning to be free.
We made it through another half of an hour, ordered some ridiculously priced cleaning products when my miracle finally happened, my friend looked at me and said we'd better get going because of the weather. I was in the home stretch and just had to keep focused for a little longer.
We said our pleasant goodbyes and thank yous and what not, only to walk out into a wintry mix of the worst type of precipitation for driving. The home where the party was set up on top of a mountain and the only way out was a very long steep narrow driveway, winding and whirling through the woods. My girlfriend looked at me and apologized for the very, very slow drive home we were about to endure. Cue the cold sweats. Again. My stomach gurgled again. Please God, be merciful.
|I couldn't tell if it was the snow, or the nausea that made the drive home so blurry.|
The drive that should've been a ten minute one, turned into a thirty minute adventure as we braved the unsalted roads. We arrived home where I managed to act well enough for a sincere thank you and other pleasantries as I nearly fell out onto the driveway from relief mixed with exhaustion. My husband was waiting for me in the kitchen, not only relieved that I was home safe and sound, but also anxious to hear how my once-in a-blue- moon night out with ladies tickled my fancy. I fell into his arms and collapsed, crying like a baby. I got just enough of what happened out for him to be up to date on the severity of the situation, before I ended up hugging the comforts of my own toilet while vomiting the devil himself out of my stomach.
As I embraced the floor of the bathroom, and gave the tile a gentle kiss, I had time to reflect. Maybe I wish, too many times, to get out more, to be in the company of friends more, to have a life outside of my realm..maybe this was just a reality check that truly, there is no place like home. 360 some odd days that I spend in my own home, with no vomiting and free-of-the runs, and it has to strike me the one time I actually get out to do something for me...what a cruel joke. Maybe it was just bad timing, bad luck..bad whatever. I don't know...but it'll be a while before I go out again - it's just not worth the trauma.
Older and Wiser, and a Little Bit Lighter,