So far my week has been pure shite.
On Saturday, the day I was supposed to run my Mum to the airport then go pick up No1Child's birthday present, No2Child woke up at 4.30 in the morning, vomiting.
Fortunately, Himself was coming home on Saturday, so he got to drive up from Alloa Saturday morning, grab a coffee, drive back to the airport to drop Mum, then drive down to Stonehaven to collect said pressie. This was on top of driving down to Wiltshire on Thursday night in order to attend the funeral of a favorite uncle on Friday (then drive back from Wiltshire to Alloa Friday night).
Sunday was quiet and restful. Keeping the next few days in reserve. I can't think of a witty analogy - perhaps one of you can help ![]()
Monday morning, 6.30, No3Child wakens by throwing up. I'm helping her out when No1Child starts too. A short while later, I join in.
Tuesday was when Himself was supposed to attend an interview for a job that, if he gets it, will literally change the way we have lived our lives since our children were born. Naturally, Tuesday morning, 9am, found him poised over the loo as well.
That was the morning we found out that the boiler had sprung an oil leak and we were without heating or hot water. Himself phoned the boiler repair people who told him they would 'hopefully' be out 'before Friday'.
I finally managed to crawl out of my bed last night and start to pull myself together a wee bit. I lost 4lbs in weight, which I really didn't need to lose, and look bloody awful. Of course, I would get it worse, having had my immune system compromised by the reaction to the dye in my blood, then a bad chest (remember I had to skip gymnastics one evening?) and then the throat/chest infection. The kids managed to pretty much clear up and be perky after a bout 6 hours. Same with Himself. Not so me - oh no! I was still chucking up the water I was drinking to try and keep myself hydrated a full 24 hours later.
Anyway, today was supposed to be a return to normal. Try and get the mountains of laundry done that had appeared with the previous couple of days carnage. Tidy up a bit. Dishes. Both tasks of which can be accomplished without hot water, fortunately. Both the dishwasher and the washing machine heat their own water.
Unfortunately, I feel like a complete heap of junk. I could manage to make breakfast, then have to sit down and rest. Tidy up, sit down and rest. Blah blah. You get the picture.
Next thing, Himself phones - "Can you cancel my cards - I've lost my wallet". I am not telling you how much cash was in it, because you will fall off your chair, but Oh My Fucking God. He is gutted beyond belief. Not his fault - the flipping virus thing wipes you out so you can't think straight.
So this evening, I'm sitting on the chair watching a movie, telling the girls it was their bedtime, and No3Child comes and up says "I feel sick". Now, this kid has been fine since Monday afternoon, so I figure that she is just trying to avoid bedtime. Nope. Next thing - copious amounts of vomit onto the chair, the living room carpet, hall carpet, utility room floor (fortunately missing the piles of clean laundrey - phew!), toilet floor, sweater, socks, and - oh yeah - finally a wee bit down the loo.
Do I now feel sick because I am tired? Because the smell is making me gross out? Or - gods forbid! - that I am about to go for Round II as well?
Anyway, I shower the child*, clean up the mess, disinfect the floors/carpets, and put the kids to bed. The stink in the living room is beyond belief, even though I have cleaned and cleaned, so I light a candle to try and get me thru the night. Then I go to bed.
As I am dozing, thinking "What have I forgotten" I remember - the bloody candle is still alight. It will be just my luck that a freak earthquake hits the north east of Scotland and knocks the candle over, setting my bloody house on fire. So, I go down to blow it out, switch on the living room lights ... and the bloody lights fuse.
For
Fucks
Sake
I am SO done with this week.
*Yes, we do have an electric shower, thank gods, but we never use it because there is something wrong with the tiling/waterproofing and if the water hits the walls of the cubicle it rains down in the hall downstairs. You can use it if you make sure the water is only going into the bit you stand in.
jenray
Pro
I don't know what to say to that outpouring of genuine and awful woes and ills...I think I'd be wondering what the fuck I'd done to deserve all this??? Hang in there, Carol...hope that the fates will smile on you again very soon...GBHs and loads of love...XXX