Mommies need support, even those with healthy children. Parenting is hard (for either gender) and the classic 'it takes a village to raise a child' comment is true. Parents need people to turn to when their child is crying and they have no idea why, when they are tired (oh so very tired), when they are proud (first steps!), pretty much at any stage in the process. We live in such transient times that many of use don't even know our neighbors, much less would be comfortable leaving our children in their care while we ran out for milk. That tight network of help and support that our grandparents had has slowly disintegrated generation over generation. Those of us raising children hours from family, new to areas, far from friends, experience the natural isolation of the early months of infanthood to an excruciating degree. Where can you turn when there is no one near? While we often bemoan the over connectedness of our hyper-wired lives, this very connection can be a parent's salvation.
I have been honored to become a part of the Mommy blogging nation. I'm merely a bit player in a community populated with rock stars - women who share their soul in smart, moving, & interesting ways. Blogher is filled with these women, and men, sharing stories of parenthood and the challenges and rewards it can bring. This blogging community I joined then expanded into twitter giving me the chance to interact real time with other women and men, parents and not, sharing stories of their lives with and without children. Twitter became my virtual community center, only without the bingo, a place to get information, to offer and get support, laugh, learn, and just hang out with like minded, and differently inclined folk - all with something compelling to offer. Intuitively I sensed this was a community, but I didn't know until today what power there was in this connection.
Today has been an amazing day - heartrending and overwhelming, and it's because of a little girl named Maddie. I don't know her. I never had to honor to meet her, and now I never will. She passed away 4 days ago before even reaching the age of two. I can't do Maddie justice but her family can - read their blog: thespohrsaremultiplying.com . It is full of pictures of a beautiful joyful child that reminds me of my own preemie baby enough to make my breath catch at the thought of how close we were to the same situation.
I can't comprehend what this loss is for Heather & Mike, literally, I can NOT comprehend it. But this family is right now deep in this tragic and painful place. Whenever I try to put myself in their shoes, my mind, my HEART, refuses to go there. I can't. I just can't imagine it. It too dark and horrid and terrifying. If ever a parent, a family has needed the support of a community, it is the Spohrs and it is now.
And they got it. This beautiful little girl has triggered an outpouring of love and passion and support from this virtual collective that has shown me what a 'community' really is. #maddie has become a top trend on Twitter, meaning that everyone is talking about this tragedy. Her story has flown from blog to blog, and people from all over the globe have used the internet to pour love and hope and support and even donations towards the Spohrs and Maddie's cause, the March of Dimes.
When people roll their eyes at Twitter or Facebook or blogging, I will point to this story, to this experience. These websites, these technologies aren't the point. They are only tools, and they can be used to superpoke people, or spam market with twitterbots, OR, as today, they can be used for overwhelming good. In spite of the devastating loss of a child far to young to go home, the response of this community makes me believe that meaning can be found even in the unthinkably wrong, and that evil doesn't triumph, not when we all band together to fight it, even if it is virtually.
Maddie, you have touched the world & spread love and joy even in your passing - your parents should be proud of their beautiful baby girl.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
My that was SO refreshing!
I went away this weekend to visit my mom. Generally, 'taking the baby and going to mother's house' is viewed as a little girls getaway, and/or indication of serious marital trouble. In this case it was neither (although, upon arriving home from this somewhat 'challenging' trip and seeing the dishes STILL undone, there was a small bit of, et-hem, relational discord, shall we say - Love you baby! really ;-)).
This trip was not the relaxarama one would think for a few reasons - 1) mom lives 4 hours away. Driving alone for 4 hours with a one year old is not something that ever shows up on a list of relaxing spa services. Cause it's not relaxing. At all. Not even remotely. Even when the baby is quiet, you still can't relax cause it's not a baby - it's a ticking shrieking timebomb and it could GO OFF AT ANY TIME!
Reason number 2 this was not a chillathon - the baby is teething. Yes, a giant chunk of enamel is boring it's way through her gum. I can't blame her for being a crankhead, when you look at it that way, but it doesn't make her any more pleasant to be around. So of course that means she wants to be around you ALL THE TIME. Add that to her being at the clingy age in general and you get a small ill natured barnacle that freaks the everloving F OUT whenever it is pried from your hip and you move outside of the pre-approved one yard radius. Not out of eyesight mind you, just more that 3 feet away, and the infant alarm at 140 dbs starts wailing.
Number 3? Mom's house isn't baby proofed. There is a baby gate to keep her from plummeting down the stairs, but other then that, free for all. This means constant adult supervision is required. And there really aren't many baby restraining devices at my parents house that we can use anymore. The bouncy seat is nothing but chains and handcuffs to a mini Houdini and buys me nothing but a 30 second head start - ergo useless. Considering she wrapped herself around any limb she could get a-hold to, this did have the positive side effect of reducing the chance she'd grab the gallon of bleach and start licking it, or whatever. She was too busy adhering to me to bother... mostly. I won't go into the whole wine bottle battle of wills, but suffice it to say she can't reach the counter top, and I can, so nenner nenner.
And the last reason that it wasn't a cold chillin' weekend, is my mom has MS. Which is why I went down in the first place. My dad had an out of town trip planned, and it seemed like a long time for her to be alone. Mom's at the stage now where her strength is waning, so if she falls, it can be hours before she gets herself back up. Her neighbors who usually look in were busy with cancer surgery (for God sake) so they weren't available. My dad is on duty 24/7 though, and he NEEDED this trip, so enter us.
Mom can't move far or fast, so her vs. a motivated crawling baby is no match - I was on my own with the Critter. And Mom isn't really able to whip together dinner any more - she is on the pointy end of the 'cognitive effects' bell curve for MS, and has trouble staying on track. Things burn, ingredients get left out, and she gets exhausted 1/2 way through. So the weekend was filled with my week-a-day chores of baby care (with a +2 difficulty for teething and location) and cooking and cleaning, so mom could eat something that didn't come from take out or a microwave and so dad wouldn't come home to more work with a leftover mess. Sandwiched between 2 4-hour drives. Um, whee. This was, in fact, the definition of an anti-relaxation weekend on logistics alone, forget about the emotional component of having to parent your own parent while parenting your one child. No. I did not relax.
But for all the stress and baby shrieks and dishes, it was worth every second. Because it was also filled with the baby crawling over to cling to grandmas leg by day 3, and three generations of giggles when the little one decided that peek-a-boo behind a toy cow is THE BEST THING EVAR! This weekend, for all it's challenges, was a great gift for all of us, and I know it and am grateful for it.
That being said, I'd really rather a spa trip next time, so, you know, if you are making plans...
This trip was not the relaxarama one would think for a few reasons - 1) mom lives 4 hours away. Driving alone for 4 hours with a one year old is not something that ever shows up on a list of relaxing spa services. Cause it's not relaxing. At all. Not even remotely. Even when the baby is quiet, you still can't relax cause it's not a baby - it's a ticking shrieking timebomb and it could GO OFF AT ANY TIME!
Reason number 2 this was not a chillathon - the baby is teething. Yes, a giant chunk of enamel is boring it's way through her gum. I can't blame her for being a crankhead, when you look at it that way, but it doesn't make her any more pleasant to be around. So of course that means she wants to be around you ALL THE TIME. Add that to her being at the clingy age in general and you get a small ill natured barnacle that freaks the everloving F OUT whenever it is pried from your hip and you move outside of the pre-approved one yard radius. Not out of eyesight mind you, just more that 3 feet away, and the infant alarm at 140 dbs starts wailing.
Number 3? Mom's house isn't baby proofed. There is a baby gate to keep her from plummeting down the stairs, but other then that, free for all. This means constant adult supervision is required. And there really aren't many baby restraining devices at my parents house that we can use anymore. The bouncy seat is nothing but chains and handcuffs to a mini Houdini and buys me nothing but a 30 second head start - ergo useless. Considering she wrapped herself around any limb she could get a-hold to, this did have the positive side effect of reducing the chance she'd grab the gallon of bleach and start licking it, or whatever. She was too busy adhering to me to bother... mostly. I won't go into the whole wine bottle battle of wills, but suffice it to say she can't reach the counter top, and I can, so nenner nenner.
And the last reason that it wasn't a cold chillin' weekend, is my mom has MS. Which is why I went down in the first place. My dad had an out of town trip planned, and it seemed like a long time for her to be alone. Mom's at the stage now where her strength is waning, so if she falls, it can be hours before she gets herself back up. Her neighbors who usually look in were busy with cancer surgery (for God sake) so they weren't available. My dad is on duty 24/7 though, and he NEEDED this trip, so enter us.
Mom can't move far or fast, so her vs. a motivated crawling baby is no match - I was on my own with the Critter. And Mom isn't really able to whip together dinner any more - she is on the pointy end of the 'cognitive effects' bell curve for MS, and has trouble staying on track. Things burn, ingredients get left out, and she gets exhausted 1/2 way through. So the weekend was filled with my week-a-day chores of baby care (with a +2 difficulty for teething and location) and cooking and cleaning, so mom could eat something that didn't come from take out or a microwave and so dad wouldn't come home to more work with a leftover mess. Sandwiched between 2 4-hour drives. Um, whee. This was, in fact, the definition of an anti-relaxation weekend on logistics alone, forget about the emotional component of having to parent your own parent while parenting your one child. No. I did not relax.
But for all the stress and baby shrieks and dishes, it was worth every second. Because it was also filled with the baby crawling over to cling to grandmas leg by day 3, and three generations of giggles when the little one decided that peek-a-boo behind a toy cow is THE BEST THING EVAR! This weekend, for all it's challenges, was a great gift for all of us, and I know it and am grateful for it.
That being said, I'd really rather a spa trip next time, so, you know, if you are making plans...
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Wow...
I've been gone. For a while. Not REALLY gone, just not blogging.
The reasons?
Honestly, I don't know.
I think part of it was a change of life (no I'm not talking hotflashes, but God knows those are probably closer than I want to even consider). I mean, change in life FOCUS. The first 6-8 months of mommyhood are all consuming, and that meant I had plenty to say about being a mommy since, basically, it's all I did. Sure I 'worked' but it really took a bit to get back up to speed and my heart was elsewhere.
Round about Sept or Nov of last year, baby-related things got a little more routine, a little less interesting. Everything wasn't new anymore so it all seemed a little less blog worthy. And work started to take over a good chunk of my attention. I think this blog, in my mind, was all mommy all the time, so really, details of work? Who cares? Go start another blog if you want to complain about PowerPoint, this is not the forum. At least, that was my thinking.
And that is stupid. Cause it's MY BLOG damnit! I can write about whatever I want! Now granted, y'all may have zippy interest in READING it, but that's probably the case regardless of subject, so... Might as well entertain myself at least.
I AM still a mommy, in case anyone wondered - I know sometimes I do. I've had a large project at work over the past 2 months (thus the obsessional focus on the evils of PPT) and its required a lot of my time and attention. Since The Hubble is going to school full time, his schedule is much more flexible, and he's taken over a lot of day to day kidlet duties. He's been on night duty for 2 months running now (WHEN will she finally sleep through the night for God sake?!?), and also gets her dressed and ready most mornings. I just drop her off at daycare.
The only time I really get with her during the week these days is feeding her dinner and putting her to bed. I dread days when I have to work til 6 and she refuses her afternoon nap cause it means she will fall asleep on the way home and I won't get any time with her at all. So I get to be a mommy, at least a little. Sometimes. And it's hard when I can't.
Now, do I want night duty back...er... not rly. Or do I want to stay home full time? REALLY not rly. I like my job & I love the people I work with & I adore the industry I'm in. I have several very good friends who are full time SAHMs and I think they are the strongest people I know. I don't think I could do it. Not and be any good at it. It's the toughest job going.
That being said I wouldn't mind a little more balance, and that's been my ongoing struggle, and that of every parent really. How can I be a good wife, a good employee, a good mommy and still have time left to be good to myself? I am a loooong way from having that one figured out. And guess what goes first? Me. And Me-time.
And I am not alone in this. Exhibit A: http://www.sweetney.com/sweetney/2009/03/selfish.html
(This is why I love twitter - you find people like this, who say things like that.) It's NOT easy to strike the balance. I still swing wildly back and forth like some crack addled monkey. I do believe, as in all things, a balance will finally be struck. It will probably be well after the hot flashes have come and gone, but one day... one day....
The reasons?
Honestly, I don't know.
I think part of it was a change of life (no I'm not talking hotflashes, but God knows those are probably closer than I want to even consider). I mean, change in life FOCUS. The first 6-8 months of mommyhood are all consuming, and that meant I had plenty to say about being a mommy since, basically, it's all I did. Sure I 'worked' but it really took a bit to get back up to speed and my heart was elsewhere.
Round about Sept or Nov of last year, baby-related things got a little more routine, a little less interesting. Everything wasn't new anymore so it all seemed a little less blog worthy. And work started to take over a good chunk of my attention. I think this blog, in my mind, was all mommy all the time, so really, details of work? Who cares? Go start another blog if you want to complain about PowerPoint, this is not the forum. At least, that was my thinking.
And that is stupid. Cause it's MY BLOG damnit! I can write about whatever I want! Now granted, y'all may have zippy interest in READING it, but that's probably the case regardless of subject, so...
I AM still a mommy, in case anyone wondered - I know sometimes I do. I've had a large project at work over the past 2 months (thus the obsessional focus on the evils of PPT) and its required a lot of my time and attention. Since The Hubble is going to school full time, his schedule is much more flexible, and he's taken over a lot of day to day kidlet duties. He's been on night duty for 2 months running now (WHEN will she finally sleep through the night for God sake?!?), and also gets her dressed and ready most mornings. I just drop her off at daycare.
The only time I really get with her during the week these days is feeding her dinner and putting her to bed. I dread days when I have to work til 6 and she refuses her afternoon nap cause it means she will fall asleep on the way home and I won't get any time with her at all. So I get to be a mommy, at least a little. Sometimes. And it's hard when I can't.
Now, do I want night duty back...er... not rly. Or do I want to stay home full time? REALLY not rly. I like my job & I love the people I work with & I adore the industry I'm in. I have several very good friends who are full time SAHMs and I think they are the strongest people I know. I don't think I could do it. Not and be any good at it. It's the toughest job going.
That being said I wouldn't mind a little more balance, and that's been my ongoing struggle, and that of every parent really. How can I be a good wife, a good employee, a good mommy and still have time left to be good to myself? I am a loooong way from having that one figured out. And guess what goes first? Me. And Me-time.
And I am not alone in this. Exhibit A: http://www.sweetney.com/sweetney/2009/03/selfish.html
(This is why I love twitter - you find people like this, who say things like that.) It's NOT easy to strike the balance. I still swing wildly back and forth like some crack addled monkey. I do believe, as in all things, a balance will finally be struck. It will probably be well after the hot flashes have come and gone, but one day... one day....
Thursday, September 11, 2008
I'm a mommy...
I've been a bit lax on updates due to T-total chaos in my general life - short version, sick infant, hubby quit job to go back to school full time, & my boss quit, so I've got the whole 'look smart and competent for the new boss who, incidentally is a morning person (ew!)' thing going on. So yeah....
Anyway, I've been mulling this post for a bit and putting it off since I don't think I can do the subject justice. I finally decided that an inadequate post is better than no post, so here goes.
I am a mommy. Theoretically, we knew this, what with the whole giving birth and getting pooped or thrown up on daily ever since deal. I also am a daughter. Again, not really a shock, except to those who think I sprung full grown from the surf all greek goddess style (it is to laugh). Being a daughter means I have a mommy, and now I AM a mommy, and that's the point where my brain melts.
Here's the why - my mother, whom I love and really is a pretty gosh darn rockin mom over all, can really get on my nerves. Why? Cause she's my mom. Period. Moms can just be annoying. Merely by existing. It's part of the job description. They tell you to take your shoes off in the house, and to make sure you eat lots of fiber, and look enquiringly at your new hairdo while very loudly saying absolutely nothing about it. Moms are just, YOU know, MOMS.
Now back to point number one - I AM A MOM. Now granted, at this stage, The Infant mostly chews on her feet so worst case she'd track spit around, if she could even walk which she can't. She has a diet of exclusively boob juice and formula (does anyone else think of cheesy 50's movie mad scientists every time they hear the word 'formula'? right. only me. check.) so no fiber issues. And she really doesn't have much by way of hair yet, so no conflict there. Yet. I know, no matter how much I swear swear swear it won't happen, I will be as annoying to my daughter as my mom is to me. Cause it's nature's way. Cause I am a MOM. I could sooner stop the rain as I could stop the teenage eye-rolling that is way closer than any of us imagine.
While the parent lore is true, you do gain a much higher appreciation for your parents once you become one yourself, you don't stop being a daughter or a son. When I'm with them both - it's all kinda confusing - I'm still rolling my eyes at my mom, while lovingly caring for a daughter of my own, who will, in due time roll her eyes at me.
The part that really floored me is when I realized that I am ALL parts of mommy, not just the annoying part. I love my mother, and she was the person I turned to when the kids were mean to me at school, or I skinned my knee, or when I had really done something big and wonderful. And to this day, when I am sick, there is always a part of me that just wants my mommy. I have an amazing dad, and I love him to death, but mommies are special. And to this very day, she cheers my victories and helps heal my booboos and sends me fiber bars in the mail, and above all loves me with everything she has.
Cradling my beautiful perfect precious baby girl in my arms last night, rocking her to sleep, it all came together. My mommy did this with me - she held me and rocked me and made it all ok. Now I have been blessed by God with a daughter of my own. And the true blessing I have with the chance to be for her all those things that my mom is to me. The weight of the gift was a little overwhelming, but I am so very grateful for the opportunity. I will do everything I can to earn the right to say honestly 'I am a mommy'.
Anyway, I've been mulling this post for a bit and putting it off since I don't think I can do the subject justice. I finally decided that an inadequate post is better than no post, so here goes.
I am a mommy. Theoretically, we knew this, what with the whole giving birth and getting pooped or thrown up on daily ever since deal. I also am a daughter. Again, not really a shock, except to those who think I sprung full grown from the surf all greek goddess style (it is to laugh). Being a daughter means I have a mommy, and now I AM a mommy, and that's the point where my brain melts.
Here's the why - my mother, whom I love and really is a pretty gosh darn rockin mom over all, can really get on my nerves. Why? Cause she's my mom. Period. Moms can just be annoying. Merely by existing. It's part of the job description. They tell you to take your shoes off in the house, and to make sure you eat lots of fiber, and look enquiringly at your new hairdo while very loudly saying absolutely nothing about it. Moms are just, YOU know, MOMS
Now back to point number one - I AM A MOM. Now granted, at this stage, The Infant mostly chews on her feet so worst case she'd track spit around, if she could even walk which she can't. She has a diet of exclusively boob juice and formula (does anyone else think of cheesy 50's movie mad scientists every time they hear the word 'formula'? right. only me. check.) so no fiber issues. And she really doesn't have much by way of hair yet, so no conflict there. Yet. I know, no matter how much I swear swear swear it won't happen, I will be as annoying to my daughter as my mom is to me. Cause it's nature's way. Cause I am a MOM
While the parent lore is true, you do gain a much higher appreciation for your parents once you become one yourself, you don't stop being a daughter or a son. When I'm with them both - it's all kinda confusing - I'm still rolling my eyes at my mom, while lovingly caring for a daughter of my own, who will, in due time roll her eyes at me.
The part that really floored me is when I realized that I am ALL parts of mommy, not just the annoying part. I love my mother, and she was the person I turned to when the kids were mean to me at school, or I skinned my knee, or when I had really done something big and wonderful. And to this day, when I am sick, there is always a part of me that just wants my mommy. I have an amazing dad, and I love him to death, but mommies are special. And to this very day, she cheers my victories and helps heal my booboos and sends me fiber bars in the mail, and above all loves me with everything she has.
Cradling my beautiful perfect precious baby girl in my arms last night, rocking her to sleep, it all came together. My mommy did this with me - she held me and rocked me and made it all ok. Now I have been blessed by God with a daughter of my own. And the true blessing I have with the chance to be for her all those things that my mom is to me. The weight of the gift was a little overwhelming, but I am so very grateful for the opportunity. I will do everything I can to earn the right to say honestly 'I am a mommy'.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
I watch too much Project Runway
But is there really any such thing as too MUCH Project Runway?
Every year this time I watch Project Runway, get all hyped up, whip out my sewing machine, and sew SOMEthing. Now mind you, I can't really sew. I took Home Ec in 7th grade and made a 6 panel wrap skirt, which was the height of my sewing career. I've made skirts and costumes and various other things since, but really, I don't have any skillz. This year though, I have a new victim, I mean, subject. The Infant! And even better Infant clothes 1) are small so they take WAY less time to make and 2) since she's going to grow out of any given outfit in less than a fortnight anyway, the crappy construction doesn't matter. Win win!
So behold! The spawn of an old t-shirt, too much Heidi, and some bling...
Friday, August 15, 2008
Sick.... and tired!
Where've I been? Um, yeah - I've been sick. Now I've been sick before, and I've used that phrase - 'I'm sick' and I meant it when I said it, but this time, I was REALLY sick. Like a miserable f level of sick. Granted, I wasn't Really REALLY sick - that's when you custom design t-shirts and host a fund raiser - nothing like that - just a pile-on of generic nasty bugs having a little party in my body. A party that wouldn't stop. and 14 days later STILL HASN'T, God help me.
The source of this plague? My family, natch. I should say 'plagues' plural. See, that's one of the things that's made this particular party such a t-total blast. Back to back diseases - it was a little virus relay race. Shoot me now.
The first leg of this illness started with the Hubble- whom I nursed back to health JUST in time to get the very same disease, only worse. Perhaps we would have had a closer relationship with the Lysol container during the initial Hubble illness had we realized that he was, in fact, ill. Don't mistake, he was clearly having symptoms. Its just that the symptoms he had mislead us into thinking that what he actually had was food poisoning. FOOD POISONING! Can you guess what symptoms might have lead us to that conclusion?! Hmm?! Gads. But no, NOT food poisoning. Nasty ass stomach bug (no pun intended). Which I promptly caught and lifted to a whole new level of suck. I had managed to delude myself into thinking I had managed to avoid the whole thing until sat the 2nd.
I was feeling a little 'off' on Friday, but I'm always wicked tired on Fridays after a whole week of having to get up and act like a responsible human after nights of no sleep, so I didn't think anything much of it. Then Sat came around. I was up at a semi-reasonable hour, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I was all a-twitter cause I was going to see one of my bestest and oldest friends brand spanking new condo. This was her very first home purchase and consequently kinda a big whoop. Plus, I was deeply desirous of seeing the horrorshow wall paper that came with said condo. When I said it was new, know that I meant new to HER - it was, as a home, trapped somewhere in the mid-70's, decor and appliances inclusive. So I was excited about the flashback in residence form, on top of the whole 'yay for you!' aspect.
My bestest BiblioDiva, and her family were going to spend the day going mano e mano with the retrofunk spread all over the new joint, so I was going to bring them sustenance as a sympathy offering. Having been through the same procedure with my first home, it seemed karmically appropriate. But the virea had their own karma apparently, and it was totally screwing with mine. I gathered myself and bundled the infant up, ready to head out, and right when I hit the door I felt a little....urghy. Urgently urghy in fact.... Oh dear.... Um, ok, quick restroom trip and we're all good...ish... Take two on exiting the house got us successfully as far as the grocery store.
I debated. Can I do this? Can I make it through the grocery store, and through the 40 minute drive to the new pad without yorking on myself? Or worse, 'othering' on myself. I mommed up. I can DO this.
I spent several important healing moments in the grocery store restroom, and blitzkrieged the grocery aisles. Speed check up and out. I'm happy to report that I was able to make it down to her new place, deliver the food, NOT deliver any viral contaminates with said food, and get back home without embarrassing myself or others. It was a minor miracle. It was also the last time I left the house for the next 4 days.
Wednesday rolls around, and I'm feeling better. Not GREAT, mind you, but better. I'm also feeling like I perhaps ought to get back into the office. This feeling was perhaps partially triggered by my bosses response when I called in sick on Monday. 'Oh. um. ok. You have everything you need to work from home though right?'. Dude, seriously, what part of 'stomach flu' did you not get? I need to be on the crapper AND using wifi simultaneously? WTF?! So with this kinda environment you can imagine why I'm feeling like perhaps I need to hustle back in.
I toddle into the office on wed, zero appetite still, but able to eat bread and rice and other tasteless bland carbs. Luckily I still have all my morning sickness foods lying around, came in handy that. Plus side? lost 7 pounds! Healthy? um no. but still. Anyway, on my way in, I start feeling a little congested. Maybe allergies. Right? Prolly just allergies. No biggie. Wrong. Biggie.
By the end of the day, I was sneezing like a dwarf and had a regular snoterfall coming out of my nose. It totally sucked to be me. Right about 5:30 I got The Call. I was not the only one with a fever and runny nose. The Infant was snotting right along with me. Sigh...
I bundle us both up and head home, chock-a-block full of self-pity. The Hubble, and his unnaturally effective immune system was able to avoid round two of the disease-a-thon, which is a HUGE mercy - cause now it was his turn to take over all household care duties. And he did great. Credit where it is due. He took the lil stinker into her doc appointment the next day, where she was pronounced 'sick with a cold' - shocker. Apparently is went well until the full body exam at which point she became deeply unamused at the whole process. I was curled up at home during all this, whimpering, buried in a perpetually growing heap of used tissues and hating life, but still well pleased that I wasn't the one dealing with a doctor inspired Infant meltdown. During the worst of this, he kept both of us in sandwiches and formula (the first for me, the second for the Infant), and kept me entertained with movies and her entertained with ridiculous faces. She dealt with the whole thing much better than I, overall, and healed up faster as well.
We are now at the end of week 2 of the diseasing, and The Infant is pretty much back to normal, with a slightly higher amount of snot production than usual, but otherwise, no worse for wear. While I am back at work, I am still a disgusting human being. I'm making all those nasty old homeless smoker sounds in the back of my throat and snorking huge lugies every few minutes. My voice is on it's way back - I'm now more of a Kathleen Turner with allergies sort of sound vs the Hulk Hogan with a sinus infection thing I had going before. And before that it was gone altogether for 2 days. So clearly trending better. But still not 100%.
After 14 whole days of this mess. I'm hoping come next week I will be able to breathe without horking - forget dreams of Olympic Gold, I just want to be able to live snot free. Is that asking too much...?
The source of this plague? My family, natch. I should say 'plagues' plural. See, that's one of the things that's made this particular party such a t-total blast. Back to back diseases - it was a little virus relay race. Shoot me now.
The first leg of this illness started with the Hubble- whom I nursed back to health JUST in time to get the very same disease, only worse. Perhaps we would have had a closer relationship with the Lysol container during the initial Hubble illness had we realized that he was, in fact, ill. Don't mistake, he was clearly having symptoms. Its just that the symptoms he had mislead us into thinking that what he actually had was food poisoning. FOOD POISONING! Can you guess what symptoms might have lead us to that conclusion?! Hmm?! Gads. But no, NOT food poisoning. Nasty ass stomach bug (no pun intended). Which I promptly caught and lifted to a whole new level of suck. I had managed to delude myself into thinking I had managed to avoid the whole thing until sat the 2nd.
I was feeling a little 'off' on Friday, but I'm always wicked tired on Fridays after a whole week of having to get up and act like a responsible human after nights of no sleep, so I didn't think anything much of it. Then Sat came around. I was up at a semi-reasonable hour, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I was all a-twitter cause I was going to see one of my bestest and oldest friends brand spanking new condo. This was her very first home purchase and consequently kinda a big whoop. Plus, I was deeply desirous of seeing the horrorshow wall paper that came with said condo. When I said it was new, know that I meant new to HER - it was, as a home, trapped somewhere in the mid-70's, decor and appliances inclusive. So I was excited about the flashback in residence form, on top of the whole 'yay for you!' aspect.
My bestest BiblioDiva, and her family were going to spend the day going mano e mano with the retrofunk spread all over the new joint, so I was going to bring them sustenance as a sympathy offering. Having been through the same procedure with my first home, it seemed karmically appropriate. But the virea had their own karma apparently, and it was totally screwing with mine. I gathered myself and bundled the infant up, ready to head out, and right when I hit the door I felt a little....urghy. Urgently urghy in fact.... Oh dear.... Um, ok, quick restroom trip and we're all good...ish... Take two on exiting the house got us successfully as far as the grocery store.
I debated. Can I do this? Can I make it through the grocery store, and through the 40 minute drive to the new pad without yorking on myself? Or worse, 'othering' on myself. I mommed up. I can DO this.
I spent several important healing moments in the grocery store restroom, and blitzkrieged the grocery aisles. Speed check up and out. I'm happy to report that I was able to make it down to her new place, deliver the food, NOT deliver any viral contaminates with said food, and get back home without embarrassing myself or others. It was a minor miracle. It was also the last time I left the house for the next 4 days.
Wednesday rolls around, and I'm feeling better. Not GREAT, mind you, but better. I'm also feeling like I perhaps ought to get back into the office. This feeling was perhaps partially triggered by my bosses response when I called in sick on Monday. 'Oh. um. ok. You have everything you need to work from home though right?'. Dude, seriously, what part of 'stomach flu' did you not get? I need to be on the crapper AND using wifi simultaneously? WTF?! So with this kinda environment you can imagine why I'm feeling like perhaps I need to hustle back in.
I toddle into the office on wed, zero appetite still, but able to eat bread and rice and other tasteless bland carbs. Luckily I still have all my morning sickness foods lying around, came in handy that. Plus side? lost 7 pounds! Healthy? um no. but still. Anyway, on my way in, I start feeling a little congested. Maybe allergies. Right? Prolly just allergies. No biggie. Wrong. Biggie.
By the end of the day, I was sneezing like a dwarf and had a regular snoterfall coming out of my nose. It totally sucked to be me. Right about 5:30 I got The Call. I was not the only one with a fever and runny nose. The Infant was snotting right along with me. Sigh...
I bundle us both up and head home, chock-a-block full of self-pity. The Hubble, and his unnaturally effective immune system was able to avoid round two of the disease-a-thon, which is a HUGE mercy - cause now it was his turn to take over all household care duties. And he did great. Credit where it is due. He took the lil stinker into her doc appointment the next day, where she was pronounced 'sick with a cold' - shocker. Apparently is went well until the full body exam at which point she became deeply unamused at the whole process. I was curled up at home during all this, whimpering, buried in a perpetually growing heap of used tissues and hating life, but still well pleased that I wasn't the one dealing with a doctor inspired Infant meltdown. During the worst of this, he kept both of us in sandwiches and formula (the first for me, the second for the Infant), and kept me entertained with movies and her entertained with ridiculous faces. She dealt with the whole thing much better than I, overall, and healed up faster as well.
We are now at the end of week 2 of the diseasing, and The Infant is pretty much back to normal, with a slightly higher amount of snot production than usual, but otherwise, no worse for wear. While I am back at work, I am still a disgusting human being. I'm making all those nasty old homeless smoker sounds in the back of my throat and snorking huge lugies every few minutes. My voice is on it's way back - I'm now more of a Kathleen Turner with allergies sort of sound vs the Hulk Hogan with a sinus infection thing I had going before. And before that it was gone altogether for 2 days. So clearly trending better. But still not 100%.
After 14 whole days of this mess. I'm hoping come next week I will be able to breathe without horking - forget dreams of Olympic Gold, I just want to be able to live snot free. Is that asking too much...?
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