That's how that goes, right?
Either way, that's certainly how it feels at present.
What I neglected to mention in the telling of the recent...events...is that The Barbarian was sick throughout. I think he started feeling crappy the day before I went to the doctor and it evolved into major congestion and a hacking cough. But, ultimately awesome barbarian that he is, he remained solid the entire time, holding, cuddling, and playing with the wee folk most of the weekend, as they attempted to work through all of this (being wildly upset with and wanting little to do with me comprising a huge part of that work, of course). Seriously, I couldn't fathom a better partner. I am constantly--CONSTANTLY--being told how lucky I am to have him by everyone. He's that amazing.
So what, then, could possibly be the only downside to the wee folk spending all that time in his embrace over the weekend? Wait for it...
THEY'RE SICK. Really and truly sick with a virulent cold virus for the first time EVER. They made it through two entire cold and flu seasons unscathed, and their second spring arrives with this. They are MISERABLE. Fevers, runny noses, congestion, horrible coughs, obviously achey and just plain SAD.
THEY CAN'T NURSE.
Okay, seriously? What shit is that? I'm forced to wean my kids long before I had planned because of some lame infection, and they IMMEDIATELY get sick? OF COURSE they do. This is us. We have the very best of luck--and the very worst. We are just that cool.
Oh, and it gets better. Ready?
The Barbarian was OUT OF TOWN LAST NIGHT.
HAHA! Isn't that hilarious? I mean, what's not funny about our very first night alone after emergency weaning falling only four days after the fact, and having the wee folk be wretchedly sick for it to boot?
I'll tell you: EVERYTHING. Everything is not funny about this. Because I just spent one of the most trying nights of my life desperately attempting to catch hold of and keep a firm grip on sleep for two miserable tiny humans and one exhausted beyond words mama, and found it, of course, ever elusive. You know, fuck you, sleep. Seriously, what have you done for me lately? Fuck all, sleep. That's what. Fuck. All. Because our horrendous first night alone sans nursing, in which I maybe dozed in half hour increments here and there, ended at 4am this morning, and although they passed back out before 10am, they have been waking intermittently to cry and be completely inconsolable, so we are back in the glider and my hopes for a real nap have died a loud and protesting death.
So, yeah. That last post about being stuck in the glider while they napped and how sad and tragic everyone and everything had been for three days? KTA woke up from that very nap with a fever, The Goblin Queen followed suit a couple of hours later, and the past two days have just been insult added to injury.
I just... I can't even with this nonsense. I can't even with this infection or this virus or this altered course forced upon us.
I CAN'T EVEN, OKAY?
Oh, and you know what else I can't even, now that we're on the subject? I can't even have a godsdamn drink to take the edge off my plight. No joke. Apparently nuclear bomb strength antibiotics and alcohol don't play well together in one's system. Who knew? So I haven't had a drink during this entire bout of asinine shenanigans, and I won't get to have one till next week. Obnoxious, right?
BUT. The earth is currently getting a drink in our drought-stricken region of the world, and that makes me very, very happy.
So have one (or five) for me, Mama Earth. You deserve it.
I'll just be over here counting down the hours till The Barbarian gets home and giving myself pep talks.
I won't throw tiny humans at him and run for the hills when he walks through the door...I won't throw tiny humans at him and run for the hills when he walks through the door...I won't throw tiny humans at him and run for the hills when he walks through the door...