Pecking Away

Greetings & Salutations! Man, is it Friday already? Well, I don't know about YOU but my week started off with a bang.

I got home from work Sunday night about midnight and just wasn't feeling well. I couldn't tell you specifically what was wrong; I just felt off and very unwell. And cold. So I crawled into bed, tried to read and discovered I couldn't even do that I felt so bad. I turned off the light and just laid there, shivering and covered in goosebumps. I might have dozed finally, but I woke up shivering and my teeth chattering. I finally nudged Hubby and asked him to snuggle me because I was freezing, which he willingly did and then noticed that I was burning up. He got out of bed and got me some Tylenol and milk which I managed to get down, but for the rest of the night I could do nothing more than doze. I was physically miserable: my stomach didn't feel right, my head was starting to pound, my wrists and arms were killing me and my back was aching. It was a long night.

Thankfully, I didn't even have to ask Hubby to stay home from work the next morning. I think my misery was quite evident. The rest of the day was spent trying to get comfortable, trying to sleep and trying not to throw up. I did not succeed at any on these tasks. I finally was driven from my bed by the back pain and ended up in my recliner in the living room, with a washrag over my eyes to soothe my head and block out the blinding sun (why don't we have blinds in the living room yet?!!), trying to sit upright and give my back a break. It was a long day. One little gem of wisdom I learned, and will now share with you, is that it is unwise, EXTREMELY UNWISE, to partake of a potluck at work the night before any form of vomiting. Particularly a potluck where you eat copious amounts of taco salad and red Thai curry. 'Nuff said. You're welcome.

On Tuesday I gave myself a Get Out of Jail Free card and lazed around the house, doing absolutely nothing productive except getting Sam to school. And actually, I had just gotten out of the shower (around noon) when the school called and said he wasn't feeling well and could I come get him. Turned out he was fine; I think he just had played a little hard at recess because he was a rambunctious little goat at home the rest of the day while I played on the computer recouperated.

Wednesday Sam got out of school early and Hubby was done with work early, so we fled the country in search of furniture. Ok, so that sounds a bit more exciting and worldly than it really was. We crossed the border into Canada and went to IKEA to look at some couches. After spending far too little time there, we managed to bring home a couch, two new nightstands, two lamps, and some art. Lord knows the kind of damage I could have done had I been allowed to browse and actually look at everything.

Yesterday I attempted to clean up the house a bit, but to be honest, I still don't feel great and am still having a few, uh, intestinal issues. I have very little appetite and when I do eat, toast is about the only thing that sounds good. I've been in a funk since being sick on Monday, so much so that even Hubby commented "Boy you just haven't been yourself since you were sick." I've been snapping at the kids, sullen and unsmiley, and have lost interest in most everything. Yesterday afternoon we managed to get to the stone supplier to pick out rock for our fireplace, which is still unrocked. I think it's going to beautiful when we get it put up - I love the stuff we picked out.

Today, Zoë and I are heading out to run a few errands and then we'll be heading to Sam's classroom for his Valentine's party. Fortunately the sun is shining, although it's windy and VERY cold, so I'm hoping a little sun in my face (through the car windows) will perk me up a bit.

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Lately I've been feeling like I'm being pecked to death by ducks. Zoë has been especially demanding and clingy and WHINEY, oh my stinkin' hell, the whining....is killing me. And Sam has been SO argumentative. If he gets an answer he doesn't like, he just keeps on asking and whining and asking and whining and ASKING and WHINING until I want to gag him and throw him in a closet. And they seem to feed off each other so I get it from both sides at once. It's all I can do to keep my head from exploding.

Zoë also has grown quite the attitude for an almost 3.5 year old. If I scold her or tell her to do something, she flicks at me with her tiny fingers with this look on her face, like I'm an annoying bug she can just flick away. Grrrr.....

{sigh....} This too shall pass. I hope.