Monday, November 30, 2009

It's Not Over...

...til the fat lady sings. (Maybe I should break out into some show tunes.)

I thought maybe, just maybe, everyone was going to be healthy in time for Thanksgiving. And we were, but it was only a brief respite. While I was Black Friday shopping, John's stomach bug came back with a vengeance and then the night before last, once we were home from my grandmother's, from seemingly out of nowhere, Sam started writhing around and screaming in agony. He wouldn't sleep and nothing we did could soothe him. I took him back to the pediatrician's office (4th trip for me in less than 2 weeks) and now he has an ear infection with a perforated ear drum. How this happened, when he *just* finished a round of amoxicillan on the 27th, is totally beyond me. I am at my wit's end with this--I feel like my life has become a symphony of puke and poop, with a little melody of infection sprinkled here and there for texture. It wouldn't be so bad if this damn stomach bug thing wasn't becoming downright predictable. And so help me, if one more doctor shrugs and says "virus" I may strangle him or her with their own stethoscope. I have had enough of this crap. Literally. And I'm sick of writing blogs about it, and facebook-ing about the sad status of our health. Everyone else it seems is flitting about, preparing for the holidays, or engaged in real productive work, and here I am still mired in exactly the same situation I was a month ago. I'm not a fan of being mired. It's making me pissy.

And this is not how I want 2009 to go out. Granted, as years go, this has not been a truly stellar one. It's been one of stagnation, miring, if you will, and I'm not at all sorry to see it go. I feel like I've spent most of the year in a perpetual state of frustration and that's really not where I wanted to be emotionally. I keep trying to remind myself that sometimes you're the rock, and sometimes you're the river, but from a purely physical sense, I don't like being a rock. They're fat and they take up space. And yes, you can argue that they can change the flow and course of the river, and create all kinds of similes and metaphors for why rocks are important just the way they are, but I'd rather be a river and feel like I'm getting somewhere in the course of my day.

I'm still optimistic that someday the boys' immune systems will kick back in, but until then, you'll know where to find me.

1 comment:

  1. so sorry, brittany. really.

    can i give you a bit of a pep talk> the thing i remember when my boys were little, and they were not as tandem as yours, is that overwhelmed sense of stagnation, regardless of their health. it's endlessly chasing diapers and pottying mishaps and then the random illnesses are ten-fold esp if you have them in a preschool or daycare. it wears a mother down. and for many of us, add the extreme lack of sleep and sense of self separate from the kids - given a rare choice of attempting to get more sleep or get out with friends and feel human or have a can you believe it date with your spouse involving candlelight and a conversation that is not centered around the little ones or home aggravations, etc: which do you choose? often, it's the sleep.

    the good news is this stage will not last forever. they will not be sick all the time, they will sleep through the night, not be in diapers for eternity, and be able to be more independent than your need to watch their everymove dictates now. they will not eat bird crap off the park bench or pebbles from the play area. they will not stick their finger in the light socket or walk up to your hard drive with a magnet.

    this too shall pass. {{{hugs}}}

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