The Dreaded Turnpike
January 19, 2009, 1:59 pm
Filed under: help, hope, marriage, me, sick

If you remember my trips to Philly a couple years back then you will understand how heartbreaking it is that we have to return again. Hubby’s back is not responding to treatment here and our last ditch efforts are U Penn, again.
I dread that trip. And if they choose to operate like last time we were there it will be more than just a trip. It’s going to be another long year.


Snot in the Oven
September 22, 2008, 3:49 pm
Filed under: Blips, cooking, happiness, humor, life, me, parenting, sick

The kids woke us yesterday at schoolday time. That means they didn’t sleep in. They crept into my room to tickle my exposed toes and announce in giggly voices that it was time to feed them. I pulled the covers over my head and explained that I was an ostrich and they couldn’t see me. I pleaded for them to go back downstairs and come back in a couple of hours but they kept right on insisting that they were starving to death and my assistance was needed promptly. I pulled on the proper attire and made my way to the kitchen desperately trying to grasp reality. I felt so awful. I hadn’t been drinking, I wasn’t up really late, I hadn’t even indulged in fatty late nite yummies of any sort. Why then did I feel like I belonged in my nice warm bed away from the world.

It took me till lunchtime to realize that I was sick. It was when I was buttering bread and slapping cheese inside the slices that I realized by the end of the day I most likely would feel a whole lot worse. And boy was I right. By the time I pulled the pork roast from the oven my nose was a spout turned on full force and I ended up dripping snot on the oven door. At least I missed the roast.

I hate getting sick. I don’t know anyone that likes it but it’s just not fair. You can’t call off work when you are a mom. You don’t have sick days. I have to sit and watch the house fall apart while I struggle to keep the simplest of tasks on target. Homework done, bodies washed, teeth clean, tummies full.  Even the pets suffer a little when I’m sick, their meals are late their cages aren’t as sparkly. And what takes a day or two to wreck takes a week to repair.

It’s like having a family when your eighty.

Of all the times to get sick my body decided that it should do it when hubby would be away. For four days. Just about the right amount of time for me to be my sickest. I had plans. I had crafting and gutting to do. Projects lined up and adventures to be taken. I have brownies to make and peach cobbler to bake. And now it’s a chore to just get the little ones to school and keep the littlest entertained.

I actually thought about adding a little vodka to my OJ this morning with hopes that it would numb the disappointment. But I feared what would happen when it met Mr. Vicodin that I had just downed. So my script for the day is plenty of Oj and a heaping dose of internet. After all tomorrow is a new day.