Unless the only company you can get is a baby. Then misery does not love company. Not at all. In that case, misery loves blessed solitude, silence, and two simultaneously free hands. This past week has been something of an endurance test. So I apologize for not posting this past Thursday, but I hope you'll understand.
When I got to law school and had my first apartment and was living on my own for the first time ever, I thought finally understood the crappiest part of being a grown up. Namely, being sick. It's seriously the worst part of not living at home. You're miserable, you're probably barfing out every five minutes, and there is nobody around to take care of you. You have to hold your own hair back when you barf. If you want saltines and gatorade, you have to dress yourself, leave your apartment, get in the car, go to the store, interact with a human being (unless they have self-check), and then somehow get back home before you can enjoy those little squares of salted cardboard redemption.
It's truly awful. But now I have found something worse. Far worse. Like a million orders of magnitude worse. So what's worse than being sick as a grown up and having to take care of yourself? Being sick as a grown up while having to take care of your 6-month-old kid. Who is also sick. While your spouse is out of town. And you live in a place that is at least 10 hours' travel from your closest relative. That, my friends, is the definition of misery.
The worst part was the poor baby boy didn't let me get to sleep until 11:00pm on Wednesday. We started bedtime a bit after 7:00pm. You know, when he seemed tired. He wouldn't go to sleep. So I tried feeding him. We read a few books. We did some tummy time to try and tucker him out. I fed him again. We walked around the house. We turned the lights on. We turned the lights off. We played soothing music. We rocked in silence. Finally, we drove around for about 45 minutes and he passed out.
On the plus side, I have discovered that I can get through pretty much anything. Also, I am a Bad Ass Mama Jamma. Seriously. I rock. Plus, Paul's home now so at least I have the option of passing off the Tiny Human if I need to sit down for a minute without a tiny being clawing my arm. He's recently gotten very into pinching and scratching. I very much hope that passes soon.
Also on the plus side, I managed to fix the comments issue that some folks were having. There was some kind of weird log in thing you had to do to comment, but that's turned off now and anyone and everyone should be able to leave a note if they so desire. In the meantime, I'm off to do some more LSAT training. I start teaching at the end of this month, and I'm really looking forward to it.
Anywho, take care and I'll write again soon!
Dare I hope you have more than one bathroom? I remember the first time my daughter got sick (I almost ran out of clean clothes for her to wear!). She got it first, then my husband. I held out until about 2am, but by then my husband had taken over the only bathroom and I had to use the kitchen sink. :-) As a mom, you learn to make do with what you have. Sounds like you're doing quite well!
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