The Bitch is Back

So Huggy Bear had a little virus.

Then Chris got it.  However, Chris convinced himself he had typhoid fever or similar and laid in bed for the better part of two afternoons asking me if he had a fever.

Imagine his surprise when his physician confirmed my diagnosis of viral infection and to gargle with some salt water and go the hell back to work already!

I know that sounds mean.  And I am undeniably mean.  However, when he’s home, stuff gets jacked up and all off track.

And seeing as how I’m currently suffering from same said viral shit that took everyone else in this house down for the better part of two days. . .yet somehow won’t be afforded the luxury of lying in bed for an afternoon. . .or even an hour. . .I desperately need to keep things on track.

I’m not complaining about all the Kleenex and snot rags I keep finding everywhere or the 12 extra water glasses Chris seems to use in the course of an afternoon.  I’m not even upset he left his box of stupid Sudafed on the desk, where the cat knocked it onto the floor and I caught Mac playing with them last night (Although it did kinda’ piss me off.  Sheesh, we have a designated child proof place for medicine.)

Here’s THE example of off track:  Yesterday Chris walked in the door at 12:18.  Mac should have taken a nap at 12:30.  However, there was no way he was going to sleep with Chris having just arrived home.  So instead, Chris carted him around while he heated up lunch and then rolled around on the floor with him for a bit.  The result was my not getting Mac to sleep until nearly 2.  Which of course meant he slept until shortly after 5 and well. . .you effing guessed it. . .I couldn’t get him to bed until after 11.

And you’ll notice I mention, I couldn’t get Mac to go to sleep.  That’s right.  Daddy has decided he can no longer get Mac to go to sleep.  Whether Daddy has a virus or not, he claims he can no longer get the kid to sleep.  So every day. .  .every night. . .every nap. . .every wake up in the middle of the night screaming. . .That’s all on me.

And for some reason I’m not to find this the least bit frustrating.  Not even when I’m sick and exhausted and it’s 10 at night and Chris is still whining about “how sick he really is and absolutely needed to come home and perhaps he should have gone someone else?  Where would I like him to go?”  Oh how I’d love to fill in the blank on that one.

And he wants more children?

I think we have all the immaturity one house can handle right now thank you very much.


10 thoughts on “The Bitch is Back

  1. I feel guilty for “liking” this. Feel better, my blogging friend. I’ve been right there with you. And those childproof cabinets for medicine? SOOO inconvenient to spend four extra seconds to actually use them….It literally almost kills me that mommies don’t get sick days!

    • Dont’ feel guilty! It was just a little cold. And of course, I gave the worst accounting I could for comedic purposes. Typically we don’t even use medicine. . .So when Chris actually bought some, I knew he wasn’t feeling well. Fortunately, I think we’re all on the mend. I guess my Mommy superpowers kept me from feeling the full effects of whatever it was. I was greatly improved by yesterday afternoon. 🙂

  2. Oh my gosh Deni Lyn, one of the inequalities of being a mom versus a dad that pisses me off is the (in)ability to lay down and be sick when you’re…well…sick. If my husband has a headache (which admittedly is rare) he gets to lay around on the couch watching “Swamp People” or “Repo Games” (refusing to take a freaking ibuprofen) but if I’m feeling beat down and on death’s bed, too damn bad. Grr…Hope you’re feeling better.

      • I’m glad to hear it! Being sick sucks! And being sick while taking care of kids sucks even worse. However, I am a firm believer in the idea that one needs to get sick every so often to appreciate being healthy. Thanks for the reminder, Life.

  3. I’m so glad you all are feeling better. Here’s something I’ve said to myself in my bitchiest of moments: I’VE EARNED THE RIGHT TO BITCH AND MOAN! Thank goodness I have a husband (and I’m sure you do, too) who merely forgets every now and then how much we actually do to keep their lives comfortable. When mine is reminded of it, he snaps back into himself. I’ve learned the art of the mommy time-out, and daddy realizes how much I do. (I’ll be gone on a business trip for two weeks. He’ll really get to see it then.)

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