Well, I'm alive. I think that after the weekend I just had, that's the good news. Let's get started...
Saturday was good. All was normal, Mike and I went out to dinner to celebrate our 8th anniversary (actual date is Tuesday). Then I woke up on Sunday. Hank comes downstairs crying.
And so it begins...
Hank is sick. His head and stomach hurt, he says, plus he's cold and his "whole body feels weird." We tuck him into the couch with an afghan and some juice. Anne meanwhile, hasn't slept well at night nor napped well in days, and it's clear that she's once again teething due to her drooly ways and consequent stinky sleepers. She begins a reign of terror that lasts from the moment she awakes at *5:40 am* until 6:30 pm, when we literally couldn't take it another moment, and shipped her up to bed. Besides when she napped, all she did ALL DAY LONG was the following:
(3) Threw self on floor;
(4) Asked for things (like a cup of milk, or some cheese) and then when handed aforementioned item, threw them down violently; broken up only by some
At one point, I offered her one of her favorite books, and do you know what she did?
She made A DISMISSIVE SOUND and TURNED HER BACK ON ME! Attitude was positively *oozing* from every pore. It was just one of those days in which you wonder who replaced your sweet, loving toddler with this feral, demon child.
It was ugly.
Anyway, I don't know when I've ever heard so much crying for such a long period of time, ever. Over the din, I was telling Mike that for me, hell would be listening to a baby cry on a non-stop repeat forever and ever. It makes me so anxious to hear a continually crying baby, I just want to jump out of my own skin. For Mike, we agreed that hell for him would be being strapped down and for ALL ETERNITY and being forced to watch full volume reruns of Here Comes Honey Boo Boo. But I digress.
All this fun and I haven't even finished chronicling the day yet.
The highlight of the day was definitely Mass, and the feast of the Epiphany. Henry was too sick to accompany so, so I sadly went alone. He was looking forward to seeing the wise men arrive at the nativity scene from their perch of traveling across the altar for the past couple of weeks. I went up to the nativity so that I could take mental notes and describe it to Hank when I got home. The wise men looked lovely in their gold robes.
And the Epiphany has always been special to me. I read in a "Name Your Baby a Saint Name!" book years ago that Tiffany is derived from Epiphana, so therefore I consider my name a Catholic name; it makes me happy, so humor me.
After I arrived home and had lunch however, the day took yet another turn. I was really tired from being up with Anne, but I felt kind of weak. Chilled. Achey. Uh oh...
Suddenly, I felt lousy. I was so cold I could barely function and it hurt to lift Anne or generally cavort about the house. I had zero appetite.
I was miserable. I felt absolutely awful and there was no rest for the weary. Anne's screaming did not cease for a sick mom. Mike was doing all of the heavy lifting with regard to the kids but it's not like I could relax with Anne's antics reverberating through the house. It was a LONG day.
By the time she fell asleep in my arms before 7 pm I couldn't believe that I had made it. I was in bed before 9 pm. Good riddance on that one.
This morning, I had a fever rash (I get these all the time after I'm sick, real attractive) and had lost 3 pounds. I'm just glad that that is over.
But in exciting news, the Downton Abbey Mystery Knit-along started yesterday, the first clue has been posted! I've taken a look at it, but I have not knit it yet. It appears that we are knitting gauntlets (what I would call long fingerless gloves). There is a provisional crochet cast-on, which I've never done before, and a lace panel in the first clue. I'm a bit intimidated, but can't wait to dive in later today!
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