Midnight hurl

I went to bed kind of late last night and was awoken after perhaps an hour of sleep by a little voice calling, "Mommy, my tummy hurts."

I think you can guess what's coming next. But at 2:15 in the morning, I didn't have a clue. Even though the Bunster has been recovering from the flu.

So I staggered down the hall, scooped him out of bed, and initiated soothing Mommy conversation #12: "Tell Mommy Where It Hurts." And some little lizard brain thing started propelling me away from the bed and slowly toward the door as he said "Right here" while pointing at his abdomen. "Do you think you're going to throw up?" I asked. "No," he said, snuggling closer and burrowing his head against my shoulder. And then he vomited in my hair and down my back. Plus a little on the rug and a miniscule amount on the hall floor, which is wood and easy to clean.

God, I love parenting!

I have so much more sympathy now for all the hurled-upon teens that Steve draws.

Keep reading...

So...J got a towel and I stood on it to strip off all the barfy pajamas. I wrapped up my hair in a beyond-gross barf-bun, and then washed up the Bunster and strategic bits of myself while J cleaned the hall. J took the Bunster and got him into dry pjs and snuggled him in our bed while I scrubbed the rug. Then we tucked the Bunster back into his own bed, where he slept peacefully. I rinsed off everything that needed it and J tossed the load of wash into the machine. Then I took a shower and scrubbed my hair. A lot.

After this flurry of activity, we finally got back to sleep at 4 am.

This morning, the Bunster was fresh as a daisy and none the worse for wear and every other cliché along those lines. And J and I looked like we'd had the flu for a week and might not get over it anytime soon. We brewed a giant pot of coffee. It helped a little.
 

Marvelous

If you came to this blog through the Comiculture site, you may be wondering, "Who is Sara Kocher, anyway? And what is she doing on the Comiculture web site?"

First, a bit of background...back in the mid '80s, the president of Marvel Comics was an Antioch College grad. As the story goes (and since I got this from college gossip, not from him, insert grain of salt here), he wanted to do something for the old Alma Mater. So he established an internship program for Antioch students only -- a 3-month internship which included a small stipend. There was already a Marvel internship program offered for high school and college students, but those jobs were generally unpaid. After the first Antioch intern completed his 3-month stint, the internship shifted into the Epic Comics department, then headed by Archie Goodwin. I don't recall how many interns came and went before I got the job, but I'm guessing two or three at most.

And how did I get the coveted Antioch internship at Marvel? Well, I really wanted to live in New York City. So I checked the list of jobs for any in NYC that paid enough to live on (frugally), and chose my favorite. "I read comic strips," I thought, "And this sounds like fun."

Keep reading...

I spent a few weeks reading all the comics I could get my hands on (mostly from dorm-mates) and the local comics shop loaned me a box of "returns." I was so well qualified!

FYI (if you're not a comics fan or pro):

When a newsstand comic isn't sold, it can be returned to the distributor for a credit. Rather than shipping back all those comics (paper weighs a lot), retailers just send the cover. The rest of the comic is supposed to be thrown away. But instead, these "returns" can be kept in a big ole box and loaned to college students prepping for internships who are too poor to buy a ton of comics.

So I went to New York, fell in love with comics, and dropped out of college (nearly giving my parents a heart attack). After the internship, I spent a couple of months working in a local comic shop until I found a position at Marvel, as a receptionist (my parents were just thrilled). A few months later, I was hired as an assistant editor, first for a Marvel editor and then in the Epic Department. And things were great. But after about two years at Marvel, Archie Goodwin left Epic (or, more accurately, was pushed), Epic was reorganized, and I was out of a job. I quickly discovered that comic books are pretty much the only branch of publishing where lack of a degree is no hindrance.

I went back to school, finished my degree (my parents breathed a sigh of relief), worked for years doing non-comics-related things, got married, and had kids. I still read comics, including lots of newspaper strips, but I was out of the industry. Then the guys founded Comiculture. I offered to become a proofreader and general web-monkey and they took me up on it. And here I am. My parents are so proud.
 

M&M's Forever

The Bunster, my three-year-old son, can easily can take a solid half-hour to eat a small bag of M&Ms. Not only is he a slow eater anyway, but there's also the M&M ritual on top of that. Here's how he eats an M&M:

Bunster: What is this? (holding out his hand)

Me: I don't know, Bunster, what is that?

Bunster: A red M&M!

Me: How nice! And what does it have on it?

Bunster: A "M"! (He'll learn about "a" and "an" at some point. Kid's only three, so right now it's up in the air which he'll use.)

Me: An "M"? Wow! And why does it have an "M" on it?

Bunster: Because it's an M&M!

Then he eats that single M&M, fishes another out of the bag, and begins the ritual again.

It doesn't speed things up if I don't participate...he'll just prompt me for my lines and then wait patiently for me to deliver them. Takes even longer.

Oh, and that thing about "melts in your mouth, not in your hand?" Yeah, not so much if you're in preschool. And those dyes don't wash off easily. He always has smudgy rainbow hands for an hour or two, until I can sneak in a second hand washing to get the last of it.