The Walking Dead
I'm miserable. It might be the third day of a throbbing headache. Or today's development in sickness hell--vomiting. That's right, can't eat a damn thing. Ever had to place your 6-month-old on the bathmat next to you while you hurl your guts into the toilet? Didn't think so. Hell, never thought I'd ever discuss this sorta predicament on the Internet or otherwise pre-children.
When I get sick, the world far from ends. I get comments on dinner (where to find the spatula, hamburger, and what do we actually have to eat) and then I am forced to sneak naps in between nap times and eating schedules. Today, in fact it was wrought with discussions on getting ready in the master bathroom. Like the main bathroom in the hall doesn't have a shower, toilet, and sink in prime working order for similar such activities.
When anyone else in this household gets sick, we pitter patter around the house making sure long(er) naps are taken, fluid intake monitored, temperatures taken, and well, everything that one should do when there is a sickly person in the house. CODDLE them. I think the last time The Kiddo came down with a common cold I ran out to buy him the "white soda with bubbles" because it was the only thing that would help his scratchy throat. The Peanut, being that she is so young, I just sat up all night rocking, bouncing, patting, nursing, and just generally staying up for days at a time until she worked through a 104 degree temperature with no apparent cause (Five days of no sleep people. Need I say more?). And as much as I love my husband, when he's sick--well it is much of the same. But a lot more naps and a lot less sociability with me and the kids. I spend a lot of time scolding my son for being too loud and asking The Husband, "Do you feel better?"
So, here I sit alone on a Saturday night as the kids are sleeping (finally) and husband went out with friends. Nursing a sickness with a blog post. I don't feel a lick better and my headache has gone from a gentle throb to something a bit more excruciating. Which means I need to either get some serious sleep or hurl (again). I'll try sleep. That is, if The Peanut takes pity on her sickly mother and gives me a good solid hour of sleepy-goodness.
When I get sick, the world far from ends. I get comments on dinner (where to find the spatula, hamburger, and what do we actually have to eat) and then I am forced to sneak naps in between nap times and eating schedules. Today, in fact it was wrought with discussions on getting ready in the master bathroom. Like the main bathroom in the hall doesn't have a shower, toilet, and sink in prime working order for similar such activities.
When anyone else in this household gets sick, we pitter patter around the house making sure long(er) naps are taken, fluid intake monitored, temperatures taken, and well, everything that one should do when there is a sickly person in the house. CODDLE them. I think the last time The Kiddo came down with a common cold I ran out to buy him the "white soda with bubbles" because it was the only thing that would help his scratchy throat. The Peanut, being that she is so young, I just sat up all night rocking, bouncing, patting, nursing, and just generally staying up for days at a time until she worked through a 104 degree temperature with no apparent cause (Five days of no sleep people. Need I say more?). And as much as I love my husband, when he's sick--well it is much of the same. But a lot more naps and a lot less sociability with me and the kids. I spend a lot of time scolding my son for being too loud and asking The Husband, "Do you feel better?"
So, here I sit alone on a Saturday night as the kids are sleeping (finally) and husband went out with friends. Nursing a sickness with a blog post. I don't feel a lick better and my headache has gone from a gentle throb to something a bit more excruciating. Which means I need to either get some serious sleep or hurl (again). I'll try sleep. That is, if The Peanut takes pity on her sickly mother and gives me a good solid hour of sleepy-goodness.
