A Snyder In The Sun

A Snyder In The Sun

Pussey and White Just Ain't Right

Our house was hit with fevers and sore throats this week.  I woke up Tuesday night (technically Wednesday morning) with a scratchy throat.  My oldest tried to tell me hers was sore the night before but I didn't believe her.  No, I'm not a bitch.  My child is crafty.  My husband read somewhere that marshmallows are supposed to help coughs and sore throats.  I made the mistake of letting Big E know that and, sure enough, she started having all types of cold symptoms.  Turns out she wasn't faking.  And I'm not faking either.

Wednesday was rough.  I babysit my 1 year old nephew and 7 year old niece a few times a week. Evie had to stay home from school because she had a fever, and her cousin had to stay home as well because she still wasn't feeling good.  Side note: I believe the oldest cousin was the one who infected us.  Soooooo, I watched four kids all day yesterday, all the while barely being able to swallow.  It mostly went alright.  The older girls camped out in my comfortable bed binging on Netflix, while the two babies and I watched Tickety Toc and other mind-numbing kid's shows.  

I hit the wall around 6:00.  My husband came home from work and started helping with the babies.  That's when I lost it.  I sat on the floor, leaning up against the couch, and I just started crying.  I was exhausted.  I hadn't eaten anything since the day before because my throat was killing me.  I needed to just lay the fuck down.  So that's what I did.  I took some Tylenol (which is basically the stupidest, most worthless pain reliever) and laid down for about 45 minutes.  Once I pulled myself together I got up and got the babies in their jammies.  I put Little E to bed and waited for my bestest fren to come and get her kiddos...while laying on the couch, of course.

I slept like absolute shit.  Mostly because I was in pain, but also because I was angry with my husband for not being more compassionate.  Usually I can power through my illnesses without much of a problem.  I pop a few Goodys (a powder form NSAID that could easily be mistaken for cocaine.  Trust me, I've gotten some weird looks taking it.  But who the hell eats lines of cocaine?!) and I'm good to go.  Not this time.  Goodys wasn't (and still isn't) doing shit.  So I'm being a baby about it.  I'm very emotional because I can't do shit, and I can't love on my kids or my husband.  I'm pretty much isolated, which I would love if I were feeling good, but since I'm sick, it just makes me sad.  

Today I didn't even bother to set the alarm to take Evie to school.  I figured she would still be contagious and there was no way in hell I was dragging my sorry ass out of bed.  I have spent the past (almost) 24 hours in bed.  My bestie took Little E today (couldn't be more grateful for that one) so Big E and I could just lay around.

And then I got the text.  Turns out even my sweet baby was sickly.  She had a fever of 101 degrees.  Sonofabitch!  Please, please, please, let it just be a passing little bug. Next on the list is my husband.  And trust me, there is nothing sadder than a sick man.  I don't know why, but they immediately regress into infancy when they are have even the slightest cold.

I just looked at my throat in the mirror with a flashlight.  Huge mistake.  It's white and gross and probably all strepped out.  And so to the doctor I go tomorrow.  Awesome.   I'll tell you what though, if I don't walk out of there with a shot of morphine in my throat, I'm suing.  Strep or no strep.  

Feel free to pass me around to your friends.  I like to be shared ;)