We interrupt this comeback for a late-breaking domestic meltdown…

18 12 2008

Just when I was starting to get my swagger back, just when I thought we were settling into a semblance of calm before the wine-drenched, gift-wrapped, turkey-stuffed storm that is Christmas, this happens: Baby Squiggles’ top front tooth starts cutting through, making it impossible for her to sleep in any position other than attached to my breast, and then never for more than an hour at a time, making it damn near impossible for me to sleep, period. Oh, and the antibiotics I was given for my root canal issue are all gone, but the root canal issue itself is not, which means I have to go back to the dentist this weekend to have the whole thing done over again. This time with an infection that will likely diminish the effectiveness of the freezing needles they’ll be jabbing in the roof of my mouth. And in the meantime, I’ll have to focus on not allowing myself to believe that some rogue mouth bacteria is migrating to my brain or my heart or my lungs or my big toe while I sleep. If I sleep. Oh, and did I forget to mention that Neener has the barfies? Hardcore barfies. The kind that had her up barfing every half hour all through the night, and still sick today. If history is any indicator, we can expect it to hit Roo tonight or tomorrow. Then Mr on Saturday, probably while I’m off getting my root canal. Then me on Sunday, because you know, nothing feels better the day after a root canal than a good dose of the barfies. Then, just when I’ve hit rock bottom, and am clawing my way back from exhaustion and illness and root canal fun-o-rama, in the hopes of being able to do some cooking and cleaning and shopping before Christmas officially descends, it’ll be Squiggles’ turn to stay up all night barfing all over everything. And by everything, I mean me.

If you’ve come here looking for some adorable anecdotes about my kids singing Happy Birthday to Jesus, or some wisdom and witticisms about life and other monstrosities, you’ve come to the wrong place. Keep movin’ folks, I got nothin good to say today. It never rains but it snows in the ol’ Blisterdome, it seems. And did I mention, it snowed last night? And not the pretty White Christmas kind. The mean, cold, ice pellet, tooth chipping-fall inducing kind. Bah. Humbug.

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8 responses

18 12 2008
Wilda

Well my dear, there is not much to say after that rant except maybe it’s time to call Jodi and have a chat.

18 12 2008
Jane

Sounds Like you may need a call to Gramas for some reinforcement

18 12 2008
nanny

Nanny will be there on Monday.You can sleep your head off .I can handle the barfies,laundry etc. Just hang in there baby .it’s all grist for your mill!

18 12 2008
Jody

I wish I could be there to get barfed on instead of you!!

Now that’s love!! hahah

19 12 2008
roxferry

Life just sucks sometimes doesn,t it. But as my mama says “this too shall pass” and life will return to it,s normal crazy soon enough!!

19 12 2008
Nana

I wish I was there to hold your hair back over the toilet- the” Nanny” can do my share too.
I will be working every night till 9- have xmas day and boxing day off only or I would come to help-

19 12 2008
domesticblister

Thanks folks. This just in…nobody actually barfed last night! Only a few false alarms. I’m counting small victories, here.

Nanny, if history is any indicator, by Monday it’ll all be over, just in time for your arrival. And there won’t be much in the way of laundry because we’ve all been wearing the same scummy clothes for days.

Nana, I bet you’ll never want to see another Happy Birthday Jesus cake by the time this week ends. And don’t worry about ever having to hold any of our hair out of the toilet. We don’t barf in toilets around here. We’re pros…we have several strategically placed barfie bowls all around the house. Much, much more pleasant, believe me.

Jody, The next time you’re here, I’m getting so drunk that I just might barf on you. Love, indeed.

18 01 2009
lastcrazyhorn

Swear to god I just laughed so hard I cried.

Sorry sorry.

*makes a note to herself to write up her Christmas*

Like 10 years from now . . . *sigh*

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