So I was all set to post a cute and peppy Easter weekend wrapup for today, but...
Baby awakened me in the middle of the night last night because his "foot hurt". I had to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. But when I went to elbow Hubby so he could "share" in my "amusement", he wasn't there.
I put Baby back to bed (after rubbing and kissing his boo-boo foot, of course) and went in search of Hubby.
He was in the sunroom laying on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. Shivering. And moaning.
But NOT his heart. More towards the right side. A heaviness.
I was all ready to spring into action though, regardless of what he said.
(We went through this before, a few years ago. After running the gamut of tests on him in the ER, it was diagnosed as a REALLY BAD incident of heartburn - he now takes prescription medicine for said heartburn.)
He wanted to just rest and wait it out. I was worried, but acquiesced.
My alarm went off at 5:45 a.m. I showered and got ready for work.
None of the boyz were awake. Hubby was snoring on the couch.
I realized I couldn't simply leave and catch my train, after the night Hubby had. He had been pretty much awake until after 3 a.m.
So I put my pj's back on, rolled up my sleeves and started the morning routine (after calling in to work.) Got Eldest on the bus.
Hubby didn't rouse until 7:30 and then was pretty much incoherent. I managed to gather from him that his chest didn't hurt anymore. He stumbled up to bed.
The babysitter came. I figured I would be taking Hubby to the Dr. at some point, so I had her come and pick up the Middle and Baby (she watches them at her house because neither of them have preschool on Wednesdays).
So I reveled in the sounds of silence (you are now singing Simon & Garfunkle, aren't ya?) and CLEANED.
[I haven't talked about this before, but my neighbor (she lives directly across the street from me) is THE CLEANING COACH. Recently she gave me one of her Starter Packs (containing a microfiber cloth, an Xtreme sponge and a window cloth) and so today I went to town on the Trenches! Lovelovelove. (Stay tuned for a giveaway soon!)]
Hubby slept until 1pm and woke up feeling a bit better.
(I have a hunch it's bronchitis, but GOD FORBID he go to the Dr. and get a DIAGNOSIS or some MEDICINE to CURE him.)
(Do I sound huffy? It's because I AM.)
(Meanwhile, I just keep reminding him to up his life insurance policy if he's going to be so DAMN stubborn.)
Then tonight, I was supposed to be on (I'm foreshadowing) a Fishful Thinking conference call at 6:30.
At 6:15, Middle proceeded to get up off the couch, walk to the middle of the living room and VOMIT all over the carpet. (He had been complaining of a bellyache. Apparently he wasn't kidding.)
Apple mixed with milk.
And when I went to strip him of his clothes (that he had yakked on)?
I got puke on my forehead.
THAT'S the sign of a real mutha.
And THAT'S the reason(s) why you aren't getting a cute and peppy Easter weekend wrapup today.