I brushed my teeth today… and showered. Two things I did not do yesterday. I’m on day 4 of cusping that line of “about to vomit” and I fear I can no longer lay here looking around at the landfill that is my house, nor can I deal with everyone else taking care of my child, feeling equally helpless and guilty at the same time.
I missed my nephew’s ONE year birthday party. The day I was looking forward to for months. What a big boy, what a world of difference for all of us versus one year ago. That day also happened to be Owen’s 6 month birthday, another milestone I thought we’d never get to. And I saw him for about 15 minutes that whole day.
My sister/Monday daycare was sick yesterday as well. I was not going to work, but there was NO way I was going to be able to take care of my child while juggling naps, tylenol, and that deep breathing you do when you are on the verge of vom. Thank goodness I have emergency options, in this particular instance, my grandmother/Tuesday daycare. We woke her bright and early at 6:30 begging her to take him, poor Dave having to do everything to get himself, the dogs, and the baby ready and out the door. Something that is impossible for me to watch. I cannot sit back and let others do what I consider my job.
I barely made it through yesterday, feeling like this plague was going to haunt me for the rest of my life, but by evening I was feeling as though there might be hope. I got up the energy to bake some chicken, and even washed my sheets in hopes that the creepy crawly critters responsible for this illness would be gone and not take Dave over next. “I’m gonna make it” I thought, and tomorrow, who knows, everything might just be a million times better….
until i got the call
On most days that I drop Owen off with my grandmother I switch cars with her. Owen loves to shop, so she loves to take him for errands and pass the time with a smiling baby rather than cooped up. Same thing yesterday, except it was Dave that switched with her and took her car to work. It’s amazing to think that if one little thing had been different then your whole day might go differently. If I had just felt better and brought him myself. If my sister wasn’t sick. If Dave left 2 minutes later from work. I would not have gotten that call.
“I just got in an accident in your grandmother’s car.”
Enter rock dropping to the pit of my stomach. Not only am I feeling guilty that everyone is rearranging their schedule because I am sick, not only have I let all of my wifely and motherly duties fall to the wayside, not only have I put my job in jeopardy being out of work Thursday because of daycare, Friday, Monday and Tuesday, but now, after all of her help, my husband has smashed her car directly into someone. His fault, totally, and his fault due to the one complaint I always have about his driving, he’s constantly too close to the person in front of him. My grandmother isn’t the most understanding and forgiving person, unfortunately. My poor grandfather feels awful that we feel bad, and I believe that he’s not mad, but my grandmother? Won’t even answer the phone.
After that call, I no longer felt better, and I can’t blame that on me feeling worse today, but I feel worse today, though brushing my teeth and showering was somewhat of an improvement from yesterday. I even mustered up the energy in the shower (while sitting on the tub floor) to shave my armpits and legs (and other important areas), though I was immediately back on the couch… boo.
Reason 4,587,001 why I am looking for daycare.