This is the long weekend from hell. Dash has been fighting his umpteenth ear infection, and then he contracted a flu or some type of gastroenteritis on top of that. Yesterday morning, he had thrown up so much that he was totally still, totally quiet, and staring off into space. I think he was actually happy when we got to the ER (conveniently located in the most God-awful part of Trenton), where he had five hours' worth of fluids drained into his little arm. He didn't scream once, not even when they were trying desperately to take blood from him (he was too dry, so they had to wait). When the nurse finally removed the IV, he didn't cry at all; he just looked at her and asked, "May I please have some apple juice now?" By evening, he was totally and completely fine, just a bit quieter than normal because he beat up his esophagus with all of the booting.
Needless to say, I've been fighting the same thing. This is the Worst Case Scenario, as Dash sleeps right next to me, still. So if he's sick and up all night, and I'm sick and need sleep, I get sicker from lack of sleep. The only blessing of the long weekend is that the Guv and au pair Maria cobbled together a schedule so that everyone left me alone and in bed this morning.
But then there's tomorrow. Tomorrow morning, our realtor and a team from his office are coming to examine our home with the end-goal of pricing it for sale. For a while now, I've been spending a lot of my free time cleaning out clutter, bagging clothes to give away and throwing out fast-food toys behind the kids' backs. My bedroom and closet are now in total order, as are the kids' rooms, the TV room (which should be a dining room), and the formal living room. The Guv has done a masterful job of tidying the garage and basement storage area. Maria has put the playroom in order. Meanwhile, both of our office spaces are buried under odds and ends, and our den -- that the Guv swears is "fine" -- looks like a storage space. No one has cleaned (or cleaned out) the laundry room since we moved in four years ago. And the kitchen floor is only slightly less dirty than the guinea pigs' cage, and both need to be cleaned before 9:30 a.m. And I have a fever of 102, should be throwing up but can't (I have this thing against throwing up) -- so instead, I'm sitting on the couch with Dash on my left knee, and my laptop on my right, watching The Incredibles (which is one of my very favorite movies, so that's a score).
In a few days, this too shall pass, and I'll return to spending my time surfing for houses in California. That's right: California! We're moving to Silicon Valley, where it's always 74 and sunny. If thoughts of that won't get me well, nothing will.
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