Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired

Today I am blogging from one of my least favorite places on the planet, the waiting room of a doctor's office. I have an ear/sinus infection that I have been unable to shake for going on six weeks now. The last time I was here, they sent me home with ten days of antibiotics, which I took religiously and still didn't get well. So I'm here again, ready to admit defeat and ask for  demand a shot of some kind. I am officially sick and tired of being sick and tired. I haven't been able to hear properly through the fluid in my left ear for over a month now, and while I confess that it has been a blessing to have the shreiks of my children muffled somewhat, I've gotten tired of sounding like Si on Duck Dynasty every time someone speaks to me and I respond with, "Huh?" Yep, I'm ready to be well.
My kids have been out of school for a week now (that should explain the lack of blog posts.) But take  heart, I have lots of  new material. Today officially marks the end of my third child's bout with the stomach bug that invaded our home and made my life (I mean my kids' lives) miserable. Each one of my girls has been sick, and they were kind enough to do it one at a time, so that we could stretch the fun out over several days. All of them have run fever, and I'm woman enough to admit that, although I hate for them to feel bad, having one or two of them lying around and sleeping was preferable to having them fighting over toys and trying to kill each other. Talk about me if you want, but I rather enjoyed the relative quiet. I also enjoyed rocking and holding my sleeping baby, which does NOT happen unless she feels bad because she will not allow it. When she held up her arms and said, "Mommy, will you rock me to sleep" wild horses couldn't have kept me from it.
So hopefully after today we will all be back among the living. Being sick sucks. Being sick and still having three other people to take care of takes it to a whole new level, even if you are married to Superman. "Screw it, I'm going back to bed" is no longer an option when you become a parent. The short people don't really care if you're sick. They just know that you are the source of Cheerios, Tylenol, and clean underwear. When you feel like death, little ones will also push you to the breaking point and then have the nerve to look surprised when your head blows off. It's just what they do.
The nurse just called my name. I'm off to show my arse to a total stranger in hopes of feeling better. Steriod shot, here I come. What a fine way to spend a Sunday afternoon.