I had a topic. It was good. A catchy title and everything. But it will have to wait, because I need to vent. And what good is a blog if you can't use it to complain about your husband?
Okay, so I went to San Diego. It as for work, but yes, I had a good time. Okay. And while I was away, he got sick - very sick. 102 degree fever, very raw very sore throat, chills, body aches. The whole thing. And while he was there, dealing with being sick, he was responsible for taking care of the kids. He didn't call his mommy or anyone else for help, he just sucked it up and dealt with it. Okay. It sucked. I get it. I felt terrible about it while I was gone, I really did. And when I got back, I took over. Completely. I put the house back in order - because it looked worse than I could have ever imagined. I waited on him - and the kids, who acted starved for attention - hand and ever loving foot. Seriously. Food brought to him while he laid on the couch, kids kept as quiet as possible. I even did the DISHES for crying out loud, and anyone who really knows me knows that is a major event. And even more than that, I didn't complain. I know it's hard to believe of me, but really, I didn't. Not once all day Thursday, Friday (when I took an EXTRA day off from work, using more of my quickly dwindling PTO bucket because Abby was running a fever), and Saturday, and I made it to Sunday night before I let loose a little. Sunday night, when I got myself a bowl of ice cream and brought it in to the living room, he said "Oh, that's real nice. Thanks for bringing me some." Seriously?!? So I kinda went off a little. But just that once. Really.
He has taken a long time to get over this virus, and when he came home from work Monday, Tuesday (my birthday - he was asleep when we got home, but he did wake up and take me out to dinner), and Wednesday, he took a nap. And I took care of the kids. And made dinner. And put the kids to bed. He did help out some, but he was on fairly light duty. And I understood. He was still feeling puny. I got it. But I was tired, too, and was having trouble shifting my internal clock back from California time and then from the time change. And I was getting a little cranky.
Thursday, Andrew was sick. We pulled a split shift - Steve worked in the morning, I went in for the afternoon. Friday, Andrew and Abby were both sick. We split the shift again. And by the time I got home Friday night, I had it. Oh, crap. No sore throat, but maybe one of the worst colds I ever remember having. I was wiped out, butt kicked. Head cold, coughing, sneezing, nose that is both runny and stuffy at the same time, fever, lost my voice, general bleachness. Saturday, I laid around a lot. Didn't do too much. And I did get a nap. But I also took care of kids, picked up around the house, made the kids lunch, made dinner, and answered almost every one of the approximately 4,000 times one of the kids said "Mom." I didn't do it all, but I did enough. I was nearly delirious.
And then today. OMG, today. Wait, first let me back up a little. I need to point out that it is March. If you don't know anything about basketball, let me tell you that there is a reason they call it March Madness. My husband is a big fan of college basketball. And when he is using all of his visual sense to watch college basketball, he often loses function in his other senses - especially hearing. So while the tournament is going on, it's a hit or miss proposition as to whether he's aware of what is going on around him. I only wish I was exaggerating. So even on Saturday, there were many times when he would wait until I prompted him before he would react to whatever needed reacting. Things that I didn't have the energy to give the proper amount of authority. Like kids hitting each other, throwing Legos, spilling food, etc., etc.
So last night, I got some things ready that needed to go to church - prepared them for Steve to take since I obviously wouldn't be going. I also helped to finish the church directory so the church secretary and her husband could finish printing it for today's service. All of this while I couldn't breathe - it was really quite an accomplishment. He took the things to church today, but only did half of what I had asked - because he didn't have time. Uh, that's because you didn't get your ass up out of bed when I told you to (since I was already up taking care of the kids, still sick), Jack Ass! Okay. Moving on.
He kept talking about going to see a movie. Alone. A movie I didn't want to see. Today. While I'm SICK and the kids are getting over being sick and are whiny because they've been basically cooped up in the house since Thursday. I just let him talk. Surely he didn't really intend to go. On his way home from church, he stopped to pick up groceries to make this special cheesy tomato rice dish that his mother used to make. I hate it. Can barely stand the smell of it. And he knows this. We've had many discussions about it. So he clearly didn't intend on including me in this lunch he was planning to make. Just as well, I had already fed the children and planned on eating some of the soup I had made the day before. You know, when I was also sick. Fine. Okay. The cheesy tomato rice preparation took long enough that he missed the starting time of the movie. So I still don't know if he really intended to go or not. But he looked at the listings for a long time. And he made plans with Andrew to take him to the TMNT movie next weekend. So I'm pretty sure he at least considered it.
I mentioned that we were going to need more Kleenexes - we're going through quite a few of them around here right now - and we were getting low on bottled water. And I asked what the chance was of him going to Wal-Mart. He said "Not," but that's a pretty typical response for him. Smart ass, all the time. Then we ran out of bottled water. And I don't drink Indiana tap water - it's gross. If you don't live here, just trust me on this. And I'm sick (have I mentioned?), so I really need to drink a lot of water. At 7:30, I got up to MAKE MYSELF DINNER - he ate cheesy tomato rice leftovers at 5:30. Didn't offer to make me anything (but to be fair, I was half-asleep), didn't feed the kids. The kids asked ME to get them some dinner. So I did. And he sat on the couch. And then I ate while the kids yelled and ran and fought and did not go to bed. And he sat on the couch. So at 8:30, I tried to make myself presentable enough as to not scare the innocent public, made a list, put on my shoes, and prepared to go to Wal-Mart. And he sat on the couch. When he finally asked what I was doing and I told him, he actually asked me if I wanted him to go. Seriously? YES! So he said I should give him the list. I told him to forget it and just take care of getting the kids to bed (because honestly, going to Wal-Mart takes a lot less energy and I knew I was going to be stuck with one or the other). And I went to Wal-Mart.
When I got home, and UNLOADED EVERYTHING, INCLUDING TWO CASES OF WATER, I came inside to find the kids in the back of the house, but most certainly not laying in bed. And he was sitting on the couch. They were yelling and giggling and very clearly together in one room, not each in their own, they were up and playing in the bathroom, they were playing in the hall. And he SAT ON THE COUCH. Finally, at 9:30 (NINE FRIPPING THIRTY), I got up and asked if he was actually going to sit there and do nothing and make me be the bitch. You'll just never guess what he did. Jerk. So I went and yelled at the children, put them back in their own beds, threatened them as any proper Mommy Ogre does, and came out here to type all this streaming vent in one massive bitch-a-thon.
And he's now laying on the couch.
God, he's hot. Or maybe that's the cold medicine I just chugged talking.