And Then the Sun Came Out. Or Moon, As it Were.

Many times this week I’ve looked to my sister N’s blog for inspiration in the face of seemingly overwhelming obstacles. Taking care of a sick, tired baby really is no fun. And when you yourself are sick and sleep-deprived, well, it’s a whole new level of finding strength to just cope a little bit. Like, make it up the stairs. Pick something up off the floor. Shovel through laundry to find a semi-dirty shirt not totally smeared in the Three B's (boogers, barf, and biter biscuits).

The allergies continued to beat me with an achey/sinus headache/nausea stick, and then they turned on poor Jellybean. I’d forgotten the misery that is a finger-sucker who can’t breathe through her nose – toss/turn, toss/turn, repeat from 3 am – 6 am when mama finally realizes sleep is not in her cards and drags herself out of bed, so tired and dizzy that she dresses baby on the floor instead of the changing table. It finally all caught up with Nanny also, as she has to nurse her son back to sleep every time he wakes up. Yesterday we both totally crashed – she went home, I called in sick despite all my deadlines. YES! I thought, After a week of trying to nap during my lunch breaks, I can lay down with The Bean!

Who.
Would.
Not.
Nap.

From 2pm until 4pm we wrestled and wept and scratched and kicked, but she absolutely refused to sleep. I tried her crib, my bed, the roof (just kidding, I wouldn’t expose us to that much pollen). So much Motrin-taking going on here lately. Caffeine, Motrin, Baby Motrin, repeat.

Finally, a coworker told me to try Zyrtec, hearing that Chlor-Trimeton (my old stand-by) and Claritin were totally useless this year. I managed to shower and drag us to the dirty Food Lion, where I apparently bought that and $50 worth of frosted baked goods, and took one last night, in case it put me straight into a coma (fingers were crossed). Hallelujah, today I am upright and functional! It was so nice to not wince when I first woke up, and be able to speak coherently. It’s so frustrating to not be able to have the windows open, or take JJ outside. I just tell myself that at least I can see the pretty sun and green grass, and it’s not snow and cold. For those who are keeping track, my insurance company is still pushing back on refilling my migraine prescription. Thanks, Cigna!

To add injury to insult, I’ve recently developed Roid Rage. Not Steroid Rage, no siree. The kind of Roid Rage where you need to use, uh, special preparation. I can’t believe I made it through my pregnancy and first year of motherhood and get one NOW. And it’s HUGE, you can probably see it from there, and I apologize for his rudeness. I have named him Perry, for an in-joke with The Ta and New Jen. Much like a toddler living in a chateau in Normandy he is clingy, needy, unwelcome, and a pain in the ass. Or so I would imagine. If I were living in a chateau in Normandy, I would want a big glass of wine and a good view of the peacocks and maybe some tacos, and that's about it. So many places for a toddler to hit his head in a chateau! I'd go freaking nuts!

Anyhow, SO IRRITATING! When did I get so freaking old that I am talking about such a thing on a blog?! You are sooooo unlucky that you tied your rope to my boat, or throat to my anchor, whichever works for you.

In an unlikely-transition-to-an-unrelated-topic, I made some delicious pork tenderloin medallions the other night. I was overcome with guilt, having given Jellybean toddler TV dinners for 17 meals in a row due to my allergy breakdown, and finally pulled myself together long enough to make an embarrassing clash of menu choices. The pork was kinda Italian, sliced up and pan-seared and topped with a honey-balsamic glaze (simple, delicious, and yes, the honey was cooked). Side items included steamed collard greens (Southern), potato latkes (Jewish), and, uh, apple sauce (Mott’s). The Bean apparently really does love every member of the pancake family with equal enthusiasm, because the potatoes received applause. That’s also how I knew the instant oatmeal I gave her yesterday had too much sugar. Girl does love her food.

Now I’m just trying to Red Bull-et to the weekend, when I can think of fun things to do that aren’t play outside or go to the Farmer’s Market or any fun festivals or fairs. Like, say, take everything out of the kitchen cabinet that is preparing to launch itself from my wall. Won’t that be a fun surprise the night before Jellybean’s birthday party? I’m hoping it hangs on til Grandpa can magically fix it. I will be totally unable to deal if it falls. I’m starting to look forward to my next business trip, aka ‘Getting Away from My Quite Literally Falling Apart Personal Life to Throw Myself Into Work’.

Friends, dude. I’m just really super grateful for friends right now. And Zyrtec. If this post largely makes no sense (even more so than usual), please blame the new drug. Or Perry.