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Browsing Tag: illness

But It Definitely Wasn’t So Good

It wasn’t the worst day ever–I would never say that, because on the spectrum of bad days, this one ranks pretty low–but it wasn’t exactly one that we’d like to repeat again anytime soon. I mean. Ever. David was due back in from Connecticut late Thursday night. I worried about him driving–the temperatures were hovering in the single digits, and there was a continuous, fierce wind blowing that was making those temperatures feel like something more in the negative 20s. It was cold in our house–I had the thermostat set at 74, the gas fireplace roaring, and yet we shivered. I checked the thermostat–still 74, it read, though it certainly didn’t feel like t-shirt weather within the four walls of our new-to-us home. I told the kids we were going to skip their baths and showers that night–the bathroom was too cold, and I figured I’d have time in the morning to do it since their school was already on a delay. I tucked the kids into bed. I shivered. I could hear the gas…

Christina

Hey, you guys.  I’ve missed you.  I’ve been quiet this month, I know that, and am so thankful for the messages asking me where I’ve been.  I’m here, I’m here.  I haven’t written lately partly (okay, largely) because I am straight-up tired.  This pregnancy thing has been exhausting the third time around.  I mean, it’s going well, and the baby’s healthy, even if s/he is growing at a frightening speed thanks to genetics and my alarming desire for Utz crab chips and vanilla fudge.  But as I’ve mentioned before, I’m still having a bit of an issue staying on top of my world.  It’s harder to keep up with two young kiddos and all the mundane responsibilities of full-time parenthood when there’s a human parasite (sorry, baby, but yes) feeding off of me and making me have to pee every twenty minutes.  Writing and blogging and taking photos of the backs of my kids’ heads have taken to the metaphorical back burner of my now infrequently used stove. But there’s…

Achoo

We are a house with three infections, two sinus and one ear. There is lots of coughing, many, many sneezes, and occasional weeping. David cowers in the corners, shielding himself from the infestation of germs blowing toward him across the waves of humidified air. Quinn has slept most of the day. She’s still feverish. It’s hard to see your child, cheeks flushed cherry-red, eyes all wet and frantic-looking, asking you to turn off the “yight” because she wants to go back to sleep. My mom stopped by, bearing fruit popsicles and extra tissues. She called me from our local grocery store, saying she was just in the area (she lives a half-hour away), wondering if we needed anything. I love my mother. I love her even more when I can answer the door at 4 o’clock in the afternoon, still in pajamas and glasses and she doesn’t even blink, because she’s known me since I was all in-utero and whatnot, and what’s seeing your daughter in a pair of bright blue pajama pants with drawings of margaritas splashed all over them when…