These are the times when single parenting sucks the most. When the little man is sick. And I am the only who can comfort him. Which means everything else comes to a halt. He has pretty much been glued to my side since Sunday night. And to my powerbook. The DVD player died and he doesn’t want to be downstairs anyhow. He wants to be in my bed, watching movies on my laptop, cuddled up next to me. When I’ve attempted to get up to take care of other things, like, oh, my own personal hygiene, he’s croaked pitifully and coughed and cried…which stops me in my tracks.
This afternoon I couldn’t take it anymore. I just felt so icky. I hadn’t showered in two days. I’d considered cleaning myself up after he’d gone to bed, but didn’t want the shower to wake him. Or have him wake up and need me while I was in the shower. Can’t win. Anyhow, I finally decided enough was enough and hopped in the shower while he was watching Castle in the Sky. As soon as my shampoo was all lathered up the doorbell rang. I tried to shout to the lad to ignore it, but no, with more energy than I’d seen from him in days he raced downstairs to answer it. When he came back up he reported that it had been some stranger, a man, asking to speak to his mom. Ack. (Still no idea who that was). He then crawled back into bed. I did manage to get some dinner into him, which he kept down (breakfast had come back up). But I didn’t get any work done today. And it’s looking like I might not tomorrow either. It’s turning into a disappointingly wasted week.
Bonus: This weekend’s weather is supposed to be milder, so I’m really hoping the lad feels well enough to hit up the Art Shanties at Medicine Lake on Saturday, when there’s a free afternoon show. Though Dark Dark Dark is also playing a free show around the same time, indoors, at Hosmer Library.
Plus: Speaking of icy art projects, Norway’s annual Geilo Ice Festival, with all musical instruments made out of ice, has just wrapped up.
And: Is it wrong that I love these socks so?
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