And I know the vicodin has indeed kicked in, because it took me four tries to spell fueled. *edited to add – I'd explain if I knew?*
So, I feel like the biggest dumbass in the history of the world because I didn't get a flu shot and LOOK WHAT HAPPENED TO ME LAST YEAR! Almost exactly a year ago. Damn. No excuse.
This time, though, besides the cough, head-splitting pain, sore throat, 103.7 fever, and body aches, I got a nasty ear infection. So, now, instead of just plain old fever blogging, I have upped the ante and am bringing the dry-mouthed, wobbly, vicodin and (slight) fever blogging. If I can stay up for two more hours and outlast the vicodin I took when I walked in the door from the doctor's office (totally not happening) I am going to down some cough syrup with codeine (because, people – Broken ear drum + Shitty cough = Hell).
But, I don't remember if codeine makes me barf?
School is out this week (*slams head against wall* because, at this point I won't feel it anyway) and so the kids are up, way late, watching Spiderman. Or Spiderman Two. Something. I hear lots of shit blowing up. I do NOT hear screetching kids. This is the only criteria at the moment. Plus, since school is out, they don't have to get up and out the door at the usual time, so, yeah, "bedtime." Whatever. You know that thing about not waking a sleeping baby? Yeah, it is a good rule of thumb to apply to any age if you are a single mom who is too sick to deal with reality. Not that they are sleeping, but interpreted to mean that I'm not going to change a single thing about their current environment which has them quietly talking about how they would handle that stuff if they were Spidey. I think they are also sneaking sparling cider in the "fancy glasses." Yay! Memories to last a life time for them. Peace for me. Win win win. And, also? Win.
I'm lucky. My mom came over after work to feed and watch the kids so I could go to the doctor. Then she stayed later so I could go to the grocery store because I've been sick for so long the kids were reduced to making sandwiches out of stale graham crackers, walnut oil, and ten year old dried thyme. (One of them will either market that shit at a swank restaurant someday, or make it a high point in their tell-all How My Mom's Blog Ruined My Life expose/memoir and will totally milk it on the talk show circuit: I still cannot smell thyme without feeling exposed, they will say with a dramatic chest heaving sob looking straight into the camera. Is there anything that people don't know about my childhood? She was a MONSTER!) Also, I had to get toilet paper. Because we ran out. Which? DUDE? What mother ever runs out of toilet paper? Me. That's who. That's why there are paper towels, kleenex, and plumbers.
My mom was actually here watching the kids the other day, too, when I went in to the doctor only to be told that this shit was viral (and I was all feverish and my brain instantly went YOUTUBE!). And, for lots of the weekend, SG took care of me, fed the kids, got groceries, let me rest while dealing with rainy-day, slightly crazed, irritated, big time stinky farting, somewhat feral, definitely unbathed for too long, children. And he was like, Baby, I'm just going to start putting booze in that coffee I make you every morning. This is HARD. Okay, he didn't really say that, but he does really make me espresso in the morning. In a stovetop pot. Because he is awesome. And he did say that part about it being hard. Right before he got a fever, and sore throat and cough, and the chills and missed two days of work and studying and HolyShit a night class because he was too sick to get out of bed. And I feel really, really bad, because I didn't see how sick I was gonna get coming. But I should have, if only I read my own blog.
Hi. Apparently vicodin makes me wired. Good to know. My ear still hurts, and I'm not sleepy. I'm off to hit up the codeine syrup.