I think we can all agree that being sick is not glorious. It doesn’t look glorious. It doesn’t feel glorious. And I’m certainly done coughing so hard that I pee on myself. Thank you, once again, pregnancy. But being sick, when your husband is sick, and your baby is recovering from being sick, but off her “schedule” just plain sucks. Mostly, and ladies I think you would agree with me, because apparently when a person of the male gender finds himself to be sick, even if he’s 35, he becomes a wuss. A certified wuss. And so I have had the distinct pleasure of taking care of 2 babies today. Go mom! But, you know what, it’s been fun being married and being sick.
Last night we were curled up on the couch in Brad in sweat pants, me in my fluffy robe, with herbal tea, cough drops and Kleenex between us. And we watched Notting Hill…but we didn’t make it all the way to the end before we called it quits for the day and stumbled upstairs to bed.
This morning at 4:45 am Zoe woke up. Our normal tricks didn’t work and I thought, “I wonder if she’s hungry”. When I crawled back into bed my significant other mumbled in his delirious state, “Do you think she’s hungry?” So I crawled back out of bed, stumbled back to her room and fed her. She went back to sleep. Brad and I did not.
We stumbled downstairs and curled into blankets on the couch. Miserable. Neither one of us could speak because our throats felt like we’d swallowed crushed glass, or sandpaper, or something awful. I couldn’t stop coughing. Brad was blowing his nose constantly. And I thought to myself, “Man, I love marriage”. We eventually fell back asleep and we’ve been pretty much coasting through the day, taking turns with Zoe depending on who feels better at that moment.
I’ve honestly enjoyed the day…as much as you can enjoy coughing until you puke. Which by the way, that’s the first time I’ve puked since I was pregnant, and when I ran into the bathroom I ran to the sink. I guess I’ve just been face to face with that toilet far to many times. As I was bent over the sink I thought, “Brad’s too sick to clean the sink out” and God knows it’s no fun to clean your own puke….so I assumed my standard puking position beside the porcelain throne and cursed being sick. I digress.
So here’s some pictures for you. Hemmingway decided that THE BEST place he could sleep was next to Brad as he took a nap. So when I came to join in the fun, he decided to move to RIGHT ON TOP OF ME. And then, because he got kicked off, but wanted oh so badly to tell Brad to get better…he moved to, wait for it….wait for it…..