My son is feeling better just in time for my daughter to get sick. She was up all night with a fever and stomach pain. My heart aches when my babies are sick. I am a hot mess. There isn’t a concealer on the market that can hide the bags under my eyes. I look like Edward James Olmos. My husband, however, is bright eyed and cheery. He somehow managed to sleep through it all. Yes, I am bitter. I tried to wake him up. He sat upright and repeated the instructions back to me. However, by the time I returned with medicine he was snoring like a bear. “What is wrong,” he asked this morning. Really? I am exhausted. He actually had the nerve to tell me, “If you need help just ask.” Whoa. Help? I am sorry. I didn’t realize I was the nanny. Last time I checked these kids bare a striking resemblance to him. I walked around the house mocking the ridiculousness of his statement, “I created life. Now, off you go to care for the children woman.”
To make matters worse I ran out of medicine this morning and had to go to the store. I got stuck behind this driver:
The last thing a sleep deprived mom wants to see is a cheerful woman donning a reindeer headband.
Where could you possibly be going that this get up would be deemed appropriate? Was her Santa hat in the wash? “Asshole,” I mumbled to myself.
Our dog hasn’t left my daughter’s side all day. It is as if he knows she is sick. (His pathetic haircut is a story I will save for another day.)
The three of us are going to take a nap. Otherwise, I may go bananas tonight at my older son’s holiday concert. I am sure there will be more reindeer in the audience or even worse, Moms wearing Christmas sweaters. Bah-humbug!