I did it.
I did what no mom is ever allowed to do. Something catastrophic to the world she controls and oversees. Something so bad that life as her family knows it completely shuts down.
I got sick.
This lovely virus was generously gifted to me this holiday season by my nieces and nephews, who seem to always have a supply of these little bugs on hand. And they love me so much they just had to share their bounty with me. Wasn't that sweet?
Its been a rough seven days, folks. I woke up Christmas morning with a scratchy throat, but shrugged it off. After all, we had presents to open! Toys to play with! Chocolate to eat!
Then I discovered the battery in my camera was dead. So, no Christmas pictures of my boys this year. Which sucked, because all three of them (Coach included) got some cool stuff that I really wanted "reaction" pictures of. *sigh* Oh well. We decided to stop and get some on the way to Grandma's house.
When we got to Grandma's house, my crew all piled out of the car and headed inside. Conveniently forgetting Mom outside left to carry all the gifts FROM us inside. Bless Coach's heart, he did come back out to help me. Which, looking back, might not have been such a great idea. As he was opening the back door, I was closing the front door. The suction from that, combined with the extreme winds here that day, ensured that the door I was holding.... slammed shut. ON MY FINGER! I have to tell you, I never realized that fingers could actually bend where there isn't a knuckle joint. It took me an amazingly long time to think enough to actually open the door to remove my hand. At which point words started coming out of my mouth that really shouldn't have been uttered on Christ's birthday. (I really am ashamed of that part..... asked forgiveness for a looooonnnggg time for it, too!) I'm not sure what prompted the running, but I set land speed records into that house, sobbing and swearing the entire time. Got in the door, dropped everything in my hands, and made a beeline for the kitchen. By the time we got my finger iced, I was ready to pass out. Apparently, I'm a wuss.
Meanwhile, the virus that the little darlings had shared with me was gearing up for one helluva party in my system. Maybe the adrenaline rush had hastened them along?
By the time I got home that night, I was ready to drop. I had fever, couldn't breathe, and it felt like someone had parked their car right on my chest. That feeling lasted until .....ohhhh..... now. But, I'm not just a mama. I'm a working mama. So it really doesn't matter how I feel, right? I've had to bravely soldier on; going to work, coming home to make dinner, go grocery shopping, do laundry, and just generally take care of the boys.
Thank God for Nyquil, that's all I can say. Oh, and my finger? Still not working quite right. But it IS a pretty shade of purple.