I am so lost. It is Wednesday, right?
Monday afternoon I started not feeling well. I had two meetings to attend Monday evening and luckily I felt better during the meetings. However, when I got home, I was almost out of it.
I have this recurrent pain in my abdomen. I have had it for years. I have no clue what it is. The only thing the doctor did was give me an anti-spasmodic drug for when the pain hits. Well, I haven't been to the doctor and my prescription ran out.
Aside from not feeling well, that pain hit. An Intestinal bug and that pain thing. Ugh.
Tuesday I was sick, sick, sick. I was worried I wouldn't be able to vote, but I made it. I jumped in the shower, threw sweats on, looked like a piece of work because I didn't do my hair, didn't put makeup on, didn't even care. I wore flipflops. In Minnesota. In November. DH drove and we went and voted. It took me about ten minutes, even though I knew how I was voting. I was so shaky that I kept resting my head on the table.
We always take Thomas with us to vote. I think it's very important. The place was packed and he was the only child there. The volunteers were very kind to him and chatted with him. They also gave him an "I voted" sticker.
I got yelled at by DH because we needed a gallon of milk and DH didn't want to stop and get it. Oh well. He did. He survived. Like it's my fault I'm sick and didn't feel up to getting a gallon of milk earlier.
When we got home, I passed out on the couch.
The worst thing about Tuesday was not that I was sick. Rather, it was my husband. He's been a pita lately. He knew I was sick. He also knows that when I'm sick, I gather up a bunch of work for Thomas to do independently (usually in bed next to me) and he will do it. I told DH before he left for work NOT to call home that morning because I needed my rest. I had been up ALL night long. So at 9 am the phone rings. It was my husband. He says, "It's 9, you need to get up out of bed now and do school."
I was livid. It was just the lack of respect that annoyed the h-e-double toothpicks out of me.
Last night I still was sick. Life goes on for a mom, sick or not. I did three loads of laundry, cooked a light supper, organized some schoolwork, checked email, surfed, then passed out on the couch again.
Today wasn't much better. I cancelled our dentist appointments for this afternoon. It was in the 70s -- in November -- in Minnesota -- and we were stuck inside. My dear, sweet husband startled us while we were doing pajama school at the table. He came home at 11. Seems he was sick, too.
I have always been one to admit my weaknesses. I am a whiner when I'm sick. My DH is not. Atypical, because supposedly it is the other way around, the men whine and the women endure. I didn't whine this time. Nor did DH. However, after Thomas completed his best ever narrative writing today, I woke sleeping beauty on the couch and had him read it. He knew what I was doing. Payback. He was gracious, told Thomas what a fantastic job he did, and he gave me the look. You know, that look of guilt. His eyes said sorry I was such an a$$.
This evening I was going over all of Thomas's work from today. He had an "on" day, his work was outstanding. It took me back to when I was a kid. When there was tension in the air between mom and dad, I was always on my BEST behavior. While DH and I weren't fighting, I'm sure Thomas picked up on the tension that was there. I wonder if that's why he had such a fantastic day today.
I think our tension is gone now. We were out of everything (but milk) and I had to go to the store tonight. I came home with $125 worth of groceries, so exhausted I didn't think I'd be able to put stuff up. Surprisingly, even though it was after DH's bedtime, he met me at the car, brought all the groceries and put them up. Okay, so he's officially forgiven now.
I think it's Wednesday. I need to snap out of my funk and get with it.