New Ball Game

This past week, I experienced something that I am sure most mothers are familiar with. I got the mystery stomach virus that is going around. When I say going around, I don’t mean my community. We live in east Texas. My mom’s neighbors in Florida had the same symptoms and they were sick for the same amount of days. My best friend who lives in Ohio, her dad had it this past week. It’s actually very strange. Anyway, did I mention I am 36 weeks pregnant? Not fun. Monday after work, I was exhausted. We did our usual nightly routine. We went to bed. I work up several times in the middle of the night with stomach cramps. I will spare details. The whole next day I could barely move. My two year old woke up crying. I thought for sure he had it too. I stayed home from work and kept him home from the sitter. Low and behold, he was actually fine. I checked him throughout the day and he showed no signs of sickness. His appetite was as big as usual. He was happy. I was so thankful he didn’t have it.
I was a different story. I had three main areas that I visited: the bathroom, the couch and the bed. I had no appetite. My poor child was stuck watching the same Dora DVD on repeat all day. I also handed him a ziplock bag of leftover pizza and he just carried it around and ate out of it all day (not my proudest parent moment). We lived to see Wednesday. On Wednesday, the stomach cramping was gone, but I was so weak that I couldn’t stand up longer than 10 minutes. It was awful. I missed another day of work. My 2 year old was stuck at home with me again because I was afraid to drive. Finally, although I was only operating at about 50% my normal speed and brain functioning, I went back to work on Thursday.
I guess my whole point here is that having a husband at home every night to help in these situations would be ideal. I guess I am just proud of myself because being sick is hard. Being sick and still having to function enough to take care of your kids is a whole different ball game. I am thankful that The Lord gave me strength, trust me, I prayed for it. Especially when I was taking breaks every five minutes from picking up toys because I thought I might pass out or changing dirty diapers and gagging. If you are lucky enough to have family close by or a husband home during the week, do all of us who do not have those things a favor, count your blessings. My children are amazing gifts. They teach me things every day. This week, the lesson was that even when you feel the most helpless, someone else is there depending on you.

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May Cause Bloody Lip

I have developed an ice chewing habit. I have no idea when or why this happened. The ice must be crushed. I also prefer the taste of the crushed ice from my refrigerator, specifically. No doubt a pregnancy side effect, it is proving to be annoying, sad, and dangerous. It’s annoying because I was laying in bed last night chewing ice, I prefer my ice in a glass. I got down to the end of the ice in my glass. Not even realizing that I was doing it, I was vigorously shaking the glass to get to the softer pieces at the bottom. After a few minutes, my husband came in and took the glass from me. He said, “I’m going to put more water in this.” I think that was code for “stop shaking that dang glass.”
My newly formed habit is sad because I take a tumbler full of ice with a little water in it to work with me every day. By 9:00 a.m. the water is gone. By 10:30 a.m. I have chewed all the ice in my tumbler. The rest of my day is sad. It’s hours upon hours of me dreaming about my ice. I crave it. I need to google this and see what exactly the deficiency is that is causing this extreme ice chewing issue.
My new favorite habit is dangerous for obvious reasons. Every single bite I take puts me one step closer to ruining my teeth. I’ll probably have dentures by 35. I guess that just gives me something to look forward to. Now, for the not so obvious reason that chewing ice is dangerous. Last Sunday after church, I was driving home. I had left my tumbler with ice in my car during church. The nice hot Texas sun had melted my ice to perfection. I couldn’t wait start chomping on my ice. Anyway, as I was driving, I tipped my glass back to get a lovely mouthful of melted ice. As soon as I tipped the cup, a giant clump came tunneling towards my mouth. Before I knew what had happened, my lip was busted. I looked in the rear view mirror and smiled. I had blood trickling down my teeth. I rolled my eyes. I thought long and hard about what had just happened. I closed my eyes, I took a deep breath, and I proceeded to chew my ice. Some things are worth a bloody lip.

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