January 14th, 2013
Well, I was going to come back with Allie’s birth story, but that’s just a little too far away from what’s happening NOW, so you know, HEY! (Ho!) Might as well launch in with what’s been happening since, I don’t know, DECEMBER.
The holidays, am I right? That was a bit of a crazy time, and we’ve still got Christmas-related visits coming and time is flying flying flying, but at the same time, this las week was basically a standstill. An utter standstill.
Without going into details, I will say that I got the stomach virus, WHICH MY BLOOD TYPE PROMISED ME I WOULD BE IMMUNE TO, and it was awful. Awful. Oh, it was awful. You know, for the most part, I have found parenting to be easier and more enjoyable than I anticipated, I did not see parenting while deathly ill to be so . . . challenging. I’m not just talking about the sniffles or a cold here, I’m talking about getting up at 3 a.m. after vomiting for hours and finding that SURPRISE! Since YOU are dehydrated, you are not producing milk! Which your baby needs to eat! TO LIVE!
AAAAAHRUGHET. Honestly, I probably should have considered the ER for fluids, but at a certain point, the thought of having Adam and the children drive me to the ER (no way could I drive myself), then Adam driving back and/or waiting with two kids in the germ-infested hospital was just . . . oh christ, it was too much, it really was. So when people tell new parents these new! awful! horrors that will befall them once they have children, I would like to say that they are completely wrong, because you WILl sleep again and you WILL read books again and life will be lovely, but what will NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN is that delightful, luxurious misery spent pining quietly away in your sick bed. No. Your sick bed will have a three-year-old crawling all over you, terrified for your safety, and an infant who needs to eat and a husband who is trying desperately to corral them both, but cannot, because honestly, there comes a time when physical restraint of a SMALL PERSON who just wants to see her mom is plain stupid.
So there you go. Wash your hands, friends.
And then Adam went to Mexico on a mancation (I KNOW) and we were alone, and do you guys know what happens when I’m isolated with little to no adult contact for a week? Holy crap, it was hideous. Hideous. I became emotionally invested in every online controversy, ever. I developed really, no-shit HARDCORE opinions about Tangled’s Mother Gothel. I thought about Ursula the Sea Witch an awful lot and the worst part is that I yelled. A lot. At poor Sam. I mean, she was a total asshole at times, but SHE was cooped up too, and had been sick (OH YES, SHE TOO GOT THE BARFLES OF MAGIC) and missed her daddy and I just . . . ugh. This week will be better. As long as I don’t spend an entire night hovered miserably over the toilet, this week will be better. And Adam is home and he comes home and regales me with adult things and doesn’t ask me to snuggle at the moment I’m LEAST snuggable and the best part is that he doesn’t wake me up in the morning, although he can’t really save me from the people who do.
See you guys soon. Pulling an Alexa and deciding to just write something, throw it up there and just get back in the damned habit.
*Oh look, it’s the Lumineers again. THIS IS SAM’S FAVORITE SONG, EVER.
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