Tuesday, 10 December 2013

The Week That Was. Actually. The Fortnight. Let's Go With The Fortnight

Dudes. What happens to the end of the year where it just wants to give you a good whipping and upset your applecart? 

First Tiny had her big tumble and that poor little face just made me want to cry. It was bad enough not being with her and being stuck at work. But when Matt told me it looked like someone had just punched her in the face, ugh. People. So sad. My poor wee babe.

And then two nights later she woke vomiting. Delayed concussion? Nope. Gastro. With a vengeance.

I thought it was all the cherries she hoovered down pre-bed. Turns out some violent bug had invaded her wee body and wanted to shake things up. And it wasn't a swift recovery, but she got over it. Then we went up to see my Mum and Dad for a couple of days, came back, the Doctor played basketball, got home - oh hey Mum, I think I'm going to vomit. Oh and we spread the Gastro to my Dad too. Sorry Dad.

And so started a week long bout of gastro for the Doctor. I wish I was making this shizz up. 

Every night I'd go to bed thinking - please let us crack it tonight. And in the morning I'd see his pale face and go - nope. We're still in down town Gastro-land.

So. Many. Sleep. Deprived. Nights.

If you had a newborn I'd offer to look after them - except they'd get gastro too. I was up and down that many times, washing bed linen like Gustavo Fring's laundromat. Someone reimburse me my sleepytimes.

I came home from work on Friday and Matt was fast asleep in bed. And he stayed that way until Saturday morning - because oh, let's see - did the GastroFairy visit? Yes. Yes she did. 

Saturday afternoon was Tiny's party - and Matt and the Doctor were quarantined. I had to do all my prep solo. Including bleaching the whole damn house because who wants to spread gastro? Not I said the Little Red Hen. 

Saturday afternoon I was what is officially known as: POOPED. 

I went to bed - and would you believe on Sunday morning I woke up with such a sore throat Schick and Gilette might as well have gone head to head doing a demo saying 'well whose blade is the sharpest'? 

I know. I have hit delirium and I might never return. 

This was the fortnight that was. Someone send me a freaking medal. And a chest to pin it on.


Cath @mybeardedpigeon said...

Poor you! Good mothering Lexi. Good job. Xxxxx

Sam Stone said...

Oh no lovely :( You've done well. xo

hugoandelsa said...

What a rough time you're having Lexi. I hope you get some sleep soon xxx

Andrea Hamann said...

oh god, sometimes they just slog you with it don't they, the gods of 'lets eff some shit up'.
I've had a shitful week too. I guess they don't call it the silly season for nothing hey.
New year not far away, I keep telling myself next year (because karma knows the calendar is about to change) will be a whole different kettle of fish.