Bedrest-----who knew I could be so miserable being a total slug?

It's funny how your perspective changes when you're actually walking in someone else's shoes. I used to envy people who were stuck in bed for more than a day or so. Like when a pregnant woman is on bed rest.....how sweet would that be? (No flames please---I really didn't know). I thought that there would be time to nap, time to watch mindless tv shows, time to choose from the long reading list that has been accumulating.

I was SO WRONG! Omigosh, what an idiot I've been all this time. I offer my apologies right now for my ignorance.

Saturday morning I woke up all excited to go to the karate demonstration at the Good Neighbor Festival in Middleton. Hunter had rehearsed with the other participants on Friday night, and things were looking really good. I especially love the weapons demonstrations and the extreme martial arts maneuvers. Flips and twists and spins, oh my. So I roll out of bed and think "What? What is this? My head is throbbing, my entire body aches from my hair to the pretty pink polish on my toes, my throat was sore and I had this cough that sounded like it came from a Neanderthal. What the heck?"  I was perfectly healthy on Friday night when I crawled into bed.

Ok, so maybe coffee will help. First sip.......OMIGOD!!!! It burned. My throat felt like someone had rubbed it with sandpaper. Back to bed for me----I still had a couple of hours before I needed to get ready. So I slept. And slept. And slept and slept and slept. I slept all day and all night. Then I woke up Sunday morning yawning and exhausted. How could this be? You'd think it would actually feel good to get all of that sleep. I figured that my body must really need it if I could fall asleep at the drop of a hat.

Much to my despair, Sunday was a carbon copy of Saturday in terms of how I felt, but instead of being able to sleep, I kept changing positions trying to get comfortable. I needed the least amount of skin possible to touch the mattress. I hurt everywhere.  Think by late morning I had pumped myself up enough to shower and head out to look for a new washer & dryer (see prior post). Kept a water bottle with me, as every time I felt like I would pass out, I took a sip. Got the dang things ordered and am anxiously awaiting Thursday delivery & Friday install.

***Pictures will definitely accompany my post later in the week when I have 13 loads of laundry piled up. No pictures today of me, as nobody would want to see that! This is supposed to be funny, not scary.***

Surely I would feel better on Monday, but no such luck. Woke up at 5 am, then promptly fell back asleep until 8:30.....right when my doc's office started answering calls. I was lucky enough to get in for a 10:30 appointment. Is there anything worse than noisy children in a waiting room when you're sick and your head feels like it's about to spew lava? Someone take them over to peds, before I do it myself. Ah, here comes the nurse & she leads me into a room. Checks vitals & I let out a yell when she uses a blood pressure cuff. My skin hurts, my muscles hurt. Ouch. Doc comes in and determines that she doesn't know what's wrong with me. Are you kidding??? Probably not influenza, most likely not pneumonia, did a strep test and we're awaiting results.....sent me on my way saying that it probably viral and that I need lots of fluids and rest. What have I been doing for the past couple of days? Sleeping, sipping and peeing. That's it. I want to be able to breathe, walk and talk without every inch of me hurting. Please give me something (yes, I understand the placebo effect and I'm good with that). But no, rest and fluids. I'm trying to be patient, but this is the third day. There is absolutely nothing enjoyable about lazing in bed when my head hurts too much to read, and there is nothing good on TV. My saving grace was Food Network and HGTV, but even that got old after awhile.

Back to bed I go once again. I'm guessing that once I'm more lucid, I'm going to read this post and wonder who wrote it. I've only had a low-grade fever----is that enough to make me delirious & delusional? I know I will feel better tomorrow. I know the power of positive thinking and how there might be a 2 or 3 day delay with my positive thoughts being destroyed by a virus. lol--that's my theory. So it's back to rest, fluids and many trips to the loo.

The Curse of Friday-----fact or fiction?

I honestly don't think it's just me. Crappy things always seem to happen on Friday. Usually, but not limited to late in the day.

One time, when we lived in Texas, the air-conditioning stopped working. Lucky for us, it was one of those lovely summer days that only peaked at 107 degrees. It's not like you can open the windows to get some air. So you call the A/C guy and beg nicely ask him to come out on a Friday night, knowing that he will miss his son's football game, but promising to fund his kid's college education if he would just bring some relief in the form of cold, cold air. Or another time in Wisconsin, when it was mid-winter and a balmy minus 30 degrees with the wind chill and one of the furnaces just quit. Right then and there. Again, a plea for help. At double-time, of course. The price we're willing to pay for comfort. Call me a wimp--I don't care.

Here's a good one that I'm certain most of us have experienced. If you haven't already,  you will. Trust me.  Something happens to your kid. Not horrible, not with lots of blood (ok, so there's a little blood), no protruding bones....you get the idea. But something just isn't right. Maybe a rash that didn't look like that yesterday, or a split lip which was severed by a tooth (which isn't really all that loose). The kind of thing that you're on the fence about jumping in the car and heading to Urgent Care for. (And you know that if you choose not to go to Urgent Care, you will be on the top of the list for "Bad Parent of the Year Award"). The latter did happen to us (yes, on a Friday night) and after a heated battle much debate about whether the injury necessitated Urgent Care, I drove Hunter to the nearest facility. Urgent Care. Now wouldn't that imply that they're there when you need them? When you have something kind of important that you need medical help with? Ummm, no. They were closed and it was 8 pm. On a Friday. There was a complete idiot  lovely gentleman vacuuming the lobby who wouldn't even acknowledge me when I was pounding on the door. Now what? Head to the ER? Hmmm, what to do. In the end, it all worked out just fine. I brought him home, the lip healed, the tooth was fine. We were lucky.

This morning---yes, Friday---our washing machine didn't work. It was making all of the necessary sounds, without one crucial element. Water. So I'm on the phone to Maytag. We're trying to diagnose the problem, and I was left with a number of options. Unplug it, then plug it back in. Ok, this didn't work. Flip the breaker....umm, where is that???? (just kidding, I really do know). Replace the hoses, which I just picked up at Menards. They're nice---they're blue and red. I would have preferred other colors, but they seemed to be out. (a little attempt at humor here). It should be noted that I have friends who would jump right in and tackle this job. They're the same ones who actually mow their own lawns and change their own light bulbs. But will I attempt this feat? Heck no. I wouldn't have a clue. I've perfected my damsel in distress role. I'll wait for Mike. By the time he gets home from work, picks up Jackson from football, and actually has a moment to look at it, he'll most likely find that this wasn't the problem after all, And then the plumber will be on double-time. Not sure why I go into panic-mode not being able to do laundry. We have plenty of clothes (save for Jackson's 2 pair of underwear). We should be fine.

Happy Friday everyone!

There's your way, and then there's MY way....

After a reasonably peaceful (no ER visits from the boys fighting or from me bashing heads together), sports-filled, action-packed summer, the boys are headed back to school next week. Third grade for Hunter and sixth grade (middle school) for Jackson. Selfish as it may sound, I'm looking forward to getting my time back. Come on, if you're a mom (or SAHD), admit it, you know what I mean.

So yesterday I asked Jax to go through his dresser drawers & tidy them up. Socks in one drawer, underwear in another, etc. So I head out to do errands and come back to find Jackson all finished. Or so he said. I have to say that I usually have my doubts when he tells me he has finished something (other than homework---which luckily, he is quite diligent about).

A little sideline here......Those of you who know me know that Jackson has been doing his own laundry since he was 11. Before getting up in arms about making an 11 year old do his own laundry, let me explain my reasoning. I've always done all of the laundry. No problem, not an issue. It's included in my job description (lol). I fold everything & put it in their baskets so they just need to hang up their shirts, put shorts away, etc. So one day I asked Jackson if he was done putting everything away (after an amazingly quick 2 minutes). He said, yep--all done. Being the skeptic that I am (listen, I wasn't born yesterday) I check out his room. Bed made, no clothes in sight.....until I open the closet doors. The basket full of clean & folded clothes had been tossed into the closet with everything spilling out & getting completely wrinkled. I was livid. We had a talk, I showed him how I expected things to go. End of story. Right?

Well, not so much. Next time, I found the basket behind his bookcase, again with clothes toppling out, completely a mess. This actually happened a few more times---it's amazing the clever spots he can find in his room (on the top bunk buried under the pillows, dangling from the ceiling fan, etc.). Enough was enough. It's not as if I enjoy doing laundry. I explained that since he didn't respect my time, he would be doing his own from now on. So we headed into the laundry room for Laundry 101. I even bought him the Purex 3-in-1 sheets that go from washer to dryer & include detergent & fabric softener after I realized that he wasn't using the liquid detergent. Eewwww.

So back to the original story.....when he's in the basement playing Xbox for the 2000th hour this month, I head up to his room and open the drawers one by one.....

Socks.......good.
PJ's..........good. At least in a drawer even though he doesn't wear any of them.
Underwear..,,...where are his underwear? Oh. 2 pair. He has 2 pair? He doesn't wear underwear??? Are all boys like this or is this specific to my own son?
On to the next drawer.....shirts. Lots of shirts. Shirts??? Balled up and shoved in the drawer? I don't think so!! I pulled out at least 12 tee shirts & sports jerseys....and tossed them into a pile on the floor. I wish I had thought to take a picture (next time...I'm still new at this). I lovingly call him over the intercom......Oh, Jax....honey.....would you please come up here? He makes his way to his room and looks at the pile. Then looks at me. Yeah? he says. Me: Your dad tells me that your closet is empty and you need shirts. They're right here. Why are they here and not there (me pointing to the empty closet)? Him: I dunno. Me: looks like you have a little laundry to do. These can't be worn wrinkled.  Him: yeah, whatever.

Does anyone else hate it as much as I do when they use that tone when they say 'whatever'? So I walk out of his room, counting backward from 500 (aren't you supposed to count to 10 before reacting? I added 490 just for good measure) . Think I was still counting when Mike came home an hour later.

Fast forward to today.....Jackson did all of his laundry. Curiosity got the best of me, so I just went into his room to check it out. Amazing--he has a closet full of shirts. Still only 2 pair of underwear though. Whatever.