I love my daughter. I really do. Beth is a beautiful, sweet, kind hearted and sensitive child. However, she has a tendency towards the dramatic. (NO IDEA where that came from - cough cough - no comments from the peanut gallery, please). I'm not kidding. Every cough is pneumonia, every queasy stomach is dysentery, every scratch a time bomb of tetanus and gangrene threatening the need for amputation of the affected limb. Just try explaining THAT to the pediatrician who glares down his rather large nose at me when he asks why I waited 48 hours into a fever to make her a doctor's appointment. Yes, yes, you proved me wrong, oh wise one with your medical degree and superiority complex. She's sick. Just write the stupid prescription and let me get her home.
As I stated before, when you are a mom, there are no sick days. I've been battling a horrible kidney infection for about a week, so I'm not feeling up to par right now, myself. Unfortunately this does not make me very patient, and every single one of my nerves are raw and exposed, and my sweet little darling has managed to stomp the crap out of them all. So, two sick females, two feverish, moody girls alone together in a house all day long. Poor David. I wouldn't be surprised to wake up tomorrow and find a note from him telling me he's decided to join the French Foreign Legion... at least until Beth and I are both well. He's been returning home to an estrogen filled fog of crazy female type persons every single day this week. The man has the patience of a saint, I swear. I'm seriously considering writing a letter to the Vatican when this is all over recommending him for sainthood, or perhaps I can write Queen Elizabeth II and recommend a knighthood... They do that, right??
He has patiently waited out the storm, and not once have I found him curled in the fetal position sucking his thumb and praying for God to deliver him from us both. Someone give the man a medal. He's cooked dinner a couple of nights, ordered pizza, and even put up with watching Beth's movies. The poor guy has been subjected to enough Disney Channel shows to choke a confession out of a terrorist. Seriously... Have you SEEN the crap that's on Disney lately? UGH... A few minutes of this stuff and Osama Bin Laden would have marched himself to the nearest U.S. Embassy begging for the death penalty. I know wherever old Walt is (and I have heard some strange rumors), he's rolling in his grave, or freezer bag, or whatever they put him in when he left this world.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel. We are both feeling better. Tomorrow is another day. Once I pick up her schoolwork tomorrow, the boredom issue should be resolved. The whining, NO. I'm sure I'll have to hear more than one complaint over the amount of work she has to do after missing an entire week of school, but, oh well... at least it will give her something to focus on other than her misery. Hopefully I can get some housework done. My house, which was nice and clean on Sunday, now looks as if a tornado carrying dirty dishes, used tissues and empty cranberry juice bottles swept through it, not to mention the Mount Everest of laundry staring me in the face.
Wish me luck, my friends...
Poor sick baby!!
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