The Bean turned 5 months a couple weeks ago and I still haven’t had time to write that update. I haven’t had time for anything! Since the beginning of the month, I got sick, Cameron got sick, we signed a lease on a townhouse in Denver, I got sick again, the baby got sick, we’ve been trying to pack up the house and make some minor repairs, prepare for renters, and moving day is Saturday and the house is still in shambles.
Nor do they get breaks for the craziness that a full moon brings. It would be just my luck to be sick over the weekend of a full moon, wouldn’t it?
It finally happened. I’m generally not a sick person, and in fact can’t recall the last time I was down for the count like this–possibly not since 2009, my first senior year of college, when I came down with Influenza A–the same year swine flu was big on the scene and my mother told me in a panic “that flu is killing young people!” Real confidence booster. Usually when I feel oncoming cold symptoms, I overload with vitamin C (praise ye, god of Emergen-C) and fluids and I escape unscathed. Two weeks ago this happened; I had a sore throat for about three days but thanks to my overdosing of VitC and herbal tea, nothing ever came of it. I guess this time I wasn’t so lucky. It was my time.
Anyway, I am finally feeling human again after several days battling a sinus infection, or something otherwise devised by Satan. These are especially fun when you also have a four-month old at home and you are desperate to not get her sick. I went to the doctor on Friday morning just to make sure it wasn’t something contagious (it was) but she gave me a round of antibiotics just in case it was bacterial. I know it doesn’t necessarily work this way but I started taking them anyway. What the hell. After several days of begging the baby to sleep for just twenty minutes longer so I could just rest a little more, the worst of it hit in the early hours of Saturday morning when I arrived at the “I just want to die” stage. Saturday wasn’t a whole lot better, but Cameron managed to come home a few hours early so that I could catch a break. Sunday I hit the “nose so raw I want to cut it off” stage at the same time that I hit the “I am so tired of being sick I just want to cry all day” stage, which might have helped clear out my sinuses.
I ended up using a teething ring to cool my burning nose. Yes, I washed it after.
But, this morning when I woke up, I felt sort of normal again. Still stuffy and coughing a bit, but not quite at the death-warmed-over point. So, progress.
And luckily (knock on wood) it doesn’t appear that either Cameron or Caroline has picked it up. I’m hopeful that by now she would have been showing symptoms and she’s not, so fingers crossed. Unfortunately, the poor thing didn’t escape quite unscathed, because you know what happens when Mommy is stuffed up and can’t smell shit? Yeah, just that. Mommy can’t smell shit. Saturday night after I put her back to bed following her middle-of-the-night bottle, she kept waking up and fussing. I was terrified she was becoming cranky because she had caught my sickness and wasn’t feeling well. (Oh, and did I mention this was also the weekend she decided to start rolling over in her crib and cry for help when she landed on her back and couldn’t go back to sleep? Full moon!) In the morning when I finally got her out of bed, I discovered an hours-old poo in her diaper, which I had been unable to smell but is more than likely the cause of her continual waking and fussing. Womp womp. Sorry Bean. The same thing happened this morning, but this one looked like it hadn’t been in there since 3 in the morning at least. So as much as I hate to say it, I’m hoping my sense of smell returns soon so I can sniff out the FPD (Formula Poops of Doom) in the middle of the night so that she doesn’t have to sit in it all night long.
Now I am facing the daunting task of picking up my house, which has been woefully neglected since I came down with this crap. Ugh.
Two Lattes and One Bean 