Sunday, January 25th, 2009
Short version: whine, whine, look at poor ol’ me, whine, whine. I’m going to bed now.
Slightly longer version: Last week my family members took turns getting a stomach flu. Did you notice? Yeah, no blog post on Thursday. I slept, ate an entire piece of bread, and slept some more that day.
My wife got better in time to travel 2,600 miles away to a nursing conference (which is a neat coincidence because she happens to be a nurse).
Just as I got better, Grandma arrived to help out with our 4-year-old and 10-month-old. Then Grandma got sick.
You’d think with a 4-year-old I would have learned the Golden Parenting Rule: “Get it done now because the universe could fall apart tomorrow, again.”
Sadly, I never learn. What I’m saying is, Thingamababy will be running behind for a few days as I catch up to my real-world paycheck-type work.
Incidentally, it’s been an interesting experience watching a 4-year-old become paralyzed by the fear of puking and then freaked by anyone who even hints at feeling a little under the weather.
And then slather on top of that a good dose of missing mom more than life itself. You can deploy all sorts of measures to assuage that grief, but at the end of the day, after you’ve talked to mom on the phone for half an hour and you’re lying in bed with a night light and a moon and for-this-weekend-only a half dozen glow stick bracelets around your wrists… it’s still lonely in the not-quite-so-dark solitude of your room.