Journal of the Roby Flu* Marathon
*Okay, so it's not actually influenza, just a "flu-like viral infection," but come on, can't we just call it the flu like we have for years and years? What gives with these doctors and PA's correcting me-- "Did you actually test positive for the influenza? Because if not, well, then it's just a flu-like viral infection." Gimme a break. 104.5 degrees is the flu, lady!
Day 1: It being Christmas Eve and me buying adorable velvet (or maybe pseudo velvet) Christmas dresses for the girls doesn't stop my loving daughters from all turning into snot factories right before we get ready for church.
Day 2: Must carry on with the pageantry and pleasantries of Christmas as though that's not snot that Grace just wiped on the hem of said velvet dress. But bonus: we can use wrapping paper to wipe noses when tissue box lurks in far corners of present mess.
Day 3: Hoping and praying, not for the Light of the World to be born in my heart, but for this God-awful cold to skip me. Also feeling very motherly towards my sweet, sickly offspring. Poor dears! The snot! The coughing! It's too much to bear!
Day 4: Still going strong as Scott succumbs to the congestion. Wimp. Clearly, his refusal to gulp the horse pills containing fish oil that I bought at the natural food store is to blame.
Day 5: Considered calling the doctor.
Day 6: Accepted the fact that decongestant does NOT work on young children. Also accepted the fact that children turn blue and begin seven octaves of screaming when approached by nasal saline spray.
Day 7: Threatening to call doctor if kids not decongested by Saturday. Kids still refusing any sort of nasal strategy. Grace obsessed with strawberry flavored Tylenol. Have taken to letting her lick the dregs of Natalie's medicine cup. Is this wrong?
Day 8: Crap, it's New Year's Eve. No time to be calling doctors. Plus it is the weekend. Sheesh, why didn't I take them in on Friday? And I feel sorry that they are all sick and everything, but honestly, do all three of the have to call "Hold me, Mommy" constantly? Must do a better job of comforting their poor sick heads.
Day 9: Maybe this is what it felt for Noah when the rain finally stopped. Noses have dried up and Natalie has a brand new tooth. Well, that explains a lot. Saying prayers of thanksgiving for the new toys that distracted us throughout the week of sickness.
Days 10-15: Go to park / host a playgroup / make scones / travel to San Diego / enjoy the feeling of sun on my face / celebrate freedom / I even go to a movie by myself one day
Day 16: Why does this pew feel so hard and cold? Why don't they have softer pews at this stupid church? And why is it freezing in here? You know, churches should offer herbal tea. I hope I'm not, you know, getting sick. I'd honestly rather be pregnant than sick. Hmm...no nausea. Not likely to be pregnancy.
Day 17: Crap. Crappity crap crap crap. Will be running out of Tylenol soon. I feel like I just started an extreme sport and all my muscles are saying, “God, no! Not exercise!" And Natalie is snotty again. Didn't I already deal with that?
Day 18: Stupid pediatrician. Stupid viral infection. Stupid "Mentally prepare for 4 or 5 days of high fever with her. Oh, and Grace will surely get it, too. You should get some rest." What the hell?! How does a mom of a 2.5 year old who just gave up the paci, and an 8 month old who refuses to sleep anywhere but pressed up against the small of my back, get rest? HELLO!
Day 19: Grace's fever hits 104.5. Natalie is still a strong 102.4. Cancel toddler gardening playdate. I'm done. Call in the reinforcements. I seriously give up. If I hear "Up, Mommy, UP!" one more time I will go crazy. Is it wrong to be glad Scott gets sick so that I have someone with which to share my misery? I feel more validated than I ever have in my whole life as Scott looks up at me at lunchtime (halfway through his first day home and sick) and says, "Sarah, I seriously hope you forgive me for leaving you alone to do this Monday and Tuesday. I am done and it's been like 4 hours."
Day 20: Grace says, "Mommy, I don't like it when you scream." This slightly endears me to her (what a well-balanced toddler to calmly say that to a person of authority!) but I bite my tongue from responding, "Well, I don't like it when you WHINE, and CRY, and HIT NATALIE, and when we run out of DRUGS and when Daddy goes to WORK and when you both want to NURSE AT THE SAME TIME" and so on and so forth. Not winning any Mother of the Year contests and it is only January 12th.
Day 21: God, are we really three weeks into this? Scott still home. The monotony is killing us. But my fever breaks and Natalie's, too.
Day 22: [Cue sad violin music] Why did this happen to me? Huh? Three weeks of sickness? When will they all get better? (Sobbing and music crescendo) Can't everyone just deal with their own sickness and stop being such BABIES?!?!?! (Scott reminds me that they are, in fact, babies, and we are, in fact, still their parents. I remind him to shove it.) The only saving grace is that no one is puking. God, that would suck.
Day 23: After mopping Grace's puke off the kitchen floor and cleaning it out of Scott's pajamas, I go for a run to try to drain the sinus pressure out of my eyeball. Big mistake. Almost kill myself pretending to be Rocky. Try inhaling steam over a bowl of hot water. Try more, different, prettier meds. Still have pounding behind eyeball.
Day 24: Well, folks, here we are. Monday January 16th. Scott went back to work, that bastard. Something about "earning money to pay the mortgage" or something stupid. Both kids down for a nap in the same room with Natalie in the crib, so miracles do happen. This gives me hope that the end is near. That and the fact that my eyeball is no longer pulsing on its own. I hope you and your families have stayed healthier than ours over the start of the new year. And if you have something that doesn't sound exactly like what we had, please cough into your elbow and stay the #*%@ away from my kids. Thank you and have a great day.
Day 1: It being Christmas Eve and me buying adorable velvet (or maybe pseudo velvet) Christmas dresses for the girls doesn't stop my loving daughters from all turning into snot factories right before we get ready for church.
Day 2: Must carry on with the pageantry and pleasantries of Christmas as though that's not snot that Grace just wiped on the hem of said velvet dress. But bonus: we can use wrapping paper to wipe noses when tissue box lurks in far corners of present mess.
Day 3: Hoping and praying, not for the Light of the World to be born in my heart, but for this God-awful cold to skip me. Also feeling very motherly towards my sweet, sickly offspring. Poor dears! The snot! The coughing! It's too much to bear!
Day 4: Still going strong as Scott succumbs to the congestion. Wimp. Clearly, his refusal to gulp the horse pills containing fish oil that I bought at the natural food store is to blame.
Day 5: Considered calling the doctor.
Day 6: Accepted the fact that decongestant does NOT work on young children. Also accepted the fact that children turn blue and begin seven octaves of screaming when approached by nasal saline spray.
Day 7: Threatening to call doctor if kids not decongested by Saturday. Kids still refusing any sort of nasal strategy. Grace obsessed with strawberry flavored Tylenol. Have taken to letting her lick the dregs of Natalie's medicine cup. Is this wrong?
Day 8: Crap, it's New Year's Eve. No time to be calling doctors. Plus it is the weekend. Sheesh, why didn't I take them in on Friday? And I feel sorry that they are all sick and everything, but honestly, do all three of the have to call "Hold me, Mommy" constantly? Must do a better job of comforting their poor sick heads.
Day 9: Maybe this is what it felt for Noah when the rain finally stopped. Noses have dried up and Natalie has a brand new tooth. Well, that explains a lot. Saying prayers of thanksgiving for the new toys that distracted us throughout the week of sickness.
Days 10-15: Go to park / host a playgroup / make scones / travel to San Diego / enjoy the feeling of sun on my face / celebrate freedom / I even go to a movie by myself one day
Day 16: Why does this pew feel so hard and cold? Why don't they have softer pews at this stupid church? And why is it freezing in here? You know, churches should offer herbal tea. I hope I'm not, you know, getting sick. I'd honestly rather be pregnant than sick. Hmm...no nausea. Not likely to be pregnancy.
Day 17: Crap. Crappity crap crap crap. Will be running out of Tylenol soon. I feel like I just started an extreme sport and all my muscles are saying, “God, no! Not exercise!" And Natalie is snotty again. Didn't I already deal with that?
Day 18: Stupid pediatrician. Stupid viral infection. Stupid "Mentally prepare for 4 or 5 days of high fever with her. Oh, and Grace will surely get it, too. You should get some rest." What the hell?! How does a mom of a 2.5 year old who just gave up the paci, and an 8 month old who refuses to sleep anywhere but pressed up against the small of my back, get rest? HELLO!
Day 19: Grace's fever hits 104.5. Natalie is still a strong 102.4. Cancel toddler gardening playdate. I'm done. Call in the reinforcements. I seriously give up. If I hear "Up, Mommy, UP!" one more time I will go crazy. Is it wrong to be glad Scott gets sick so that I have someone with which to share my misery? I feel more validated than I ever have in my whole life as Scott looks up at me at lunchtime (halfway through his first day home and sick) and says, "Sarah, I seriously hope you forgive me for leaving you alone to do this Monday and Tuesday. I am done and it's been like 4 hours."
Day 20: Grace says, "Mommy, I don't like it when you scream." This slightly endears me to her (what a well-balanced toddler to calmly say that to a person of authority!) but I bite my tongue from responding, "Well, I don't like it when you WHINE, and CRY, and HIT NATALIE, and when we run out of DRUGS and when Daddy goes to WORK and when you both want to NURSE AT THE SAME TIME" and so on and so forth. Not winning any Mother of the Year contests and it is only January 12th.
Day 21: God, are we really three weeks into this? Scott still home. The monotony is killing us. But my fever breaks and Natalie's, too.
Day 22: [Cue sad violin music] Why did this happen to me? Huh? Three weeks of sickness? When will they all get better? (Sobbing and music crescendo) Can't everyone just deal with their own sickness and stop being such BABIES?!?!?! (Scott reminds me that they are, in fact, babies, and we are, in fact, still their parents. I remind him to shove it.) The only saving grace is that no one is puking. God, that would suck.
Day 23: After mopping Grace's puke off the kitchen floor and cleaning it out of Scott's pajamas, I go for a run to try to drain the sinus pressure out of my eyeball. Big mistake. Almost kill myself pretending to be Rocky. Try inhaling steam over a bowl of hot water. Try more, different, prettier meds. Still have pounding behind eyeball.
Day 24: Well, folks, here we are. Monday January 16th. Scott went back to work, that bastard. Something about "earning money to pay the mortgage" or something stupid. Both kids down for a nap in the same room with Natalie in the crib, so miracles do happen. This gives me hope that the end is near. That and the fact that my eyeball is no longer pulsing on its own. I hope you and your families have stayed healthier than ours over the start of the new year. And if you have something that doesn't sound exactly like what we had, please cough into your elbow and stay the #*%@ away from my kids. Thank you and have a great day.
posted by Sarah at 1:38 PM
1 Comments:
Sarah, who are you kidding?! You ARE most definitely Mother of the Year!! You survived this awful nightmare with everyone still intact. Good job!
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