the long ones.

There are long days, it seems.  And sometimes they feel really long.  And we get through them obviously, but sometimes you really, really want a do-over.

Thanksgiving was lovely and the day after was perfect and cozy. We put up all the Christmas decorations, and Jude was amazed by it.  It was so sweet watching him discover things.

We bummed around the house all day, and I changed the baby from one set of pj’s to another.  Early in the evening, Scott watched football and hung with Jude, and I headed out to pick up a quick birthday gift for a party we were invited to on Saturday.  There is a pizza place in the area I was headed toward, and family fixin’s are delicious and all, but after 3 days of eating that kind of food, we were ready for a change of pace, so I picked up some pizza and cheese bread and brought it home to my boys.  For whatever reason, my normally hungry baby was not interested, and he didn’t eat much, if anything, before succumbing to fatigue, so I put him down to sleep around 7:30 and curled up with a novel while Scott watched football.  Seriously – a perfect ending to a cozy, perfect day.

Then I awoke at 2:30 and OHMYGAWD I was so sick. I will spare you the details, but I felt confident at one point I might not live to see morning.  I told Scott I obviously had a bug or something and he would have to take care of the baby (who slept through the whole night, might I add!!).  Scott mumbled no problem.  I left to be miserable in another room, and at 6:30, something terrible happened. Scott got it too. We were both completely incapacitated and this.close to wanting to die.  I called family for help with Jude, and crawled in to bed where I stayed – minus frequent sprints to the bathroom – for hours.  I don’t know if it was food poisoning or a virus, but does it matter the affliction when you are that miserable?  Any situation which requires a puke bowl is Hell. I don’t care what you call it.

So you can imagine (or don’t, it’s gross) what it was like with both of us battling the same awful affliction simultaneously for most of the day on Saturday.  Marriage counselors should detail scenarios like this one and ask young couples if they really want to commit to this.  It was not the shining example of romance in our history. Not at all.

The tortellini soup I am eating right now is the closest thing to solids that I have digested in the past 3 days.  Luckily, I could stand up that afternoon, so Jude was back home and able to sleep in his bed without interruption or really understanding what was going on, but it is a day I never want to re-live. Never.  Ever.  Ever.

And long story short, Scott was still not totally better this morning and had to change travel arrangements at the last minute and race off without much notice to make the rescheduled flight.  Jude had a scary, bizarre, not-from-nature diaper last night that had me convinced he’s catching it, and every time he burps or gasps, I brace myself.  So far, we are good, but he is super whiny so maybe he has a milder case or something.  Who knows?

And have I mentioned that it is 40 degrees and rainy outside as I write this?  Or did I mention this week is slammed and ridiculously busy with a task I volunteered for ages ago before I knew the near-death plague would strike my home?  And might I mention that my husband embarks TO PARIS on business next week without me.  Only my favorite city ever.  [We considered tagging along by the way, but it didn’t make sense with his schedule and location.]  And I will be here.  Probably moping, but at least trying not to mope.

But as always, there is beauty if I look for it.

I just might need a little help this week looking past the ugly.

One thought on “the long ones.

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