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Another Blogworthy Bad Day

Yes, I missed a day blogging.

Wonder why?



With our new kitchen still unfinished we're eating out pretty much every meal, and in an effort to support local businesses Brian and I are attempting to eat dinner at small restaurants rather than chains.  Being the New Yorkers that we are, we had a hankering for Chinese food on Tuesday and gave the Hong Kong Palace a try.

Apparently, a big mistake.

A couples hours after dinner Brian began complaining that he didn't feel good and needed to take it easy.  At first suspicious that he was trying to get out of childare, I became concerned when the nausea went, shall we say, active.  I walked into my bedroom where Maddie had been playing with Brian and saw her by herself in the bed.  She looked at me solemnly and said, "Daddy's throwing up again."  I was stuck putting both kids down by myself, which meant Maddie was up almost an extra hour as I coaxed Cora through her routine, and by the end of Maddie's routine I was feeling a bit green about the gills myself.  But the movers were due the next day and there was work to be done to get ready, so I hustled with the help of family and finished up.  By the time I fell into bed, I knew it was a matter of time before I'd be joining Brian in worshipping at the porcelein palace.

I'll draw a curtain over those next several hours:  suffice it to say that I'm supremely grateful our new house has more than one bathroom since I don't think we both slept at all except to doze a bit between rounds on the cold tile floors.  By 7 a.m. we were wiped out and staring in a stupor at the ceiling when our mover called to say he'd be a day late. 

I never thought I'd be grateful for a delay in our stuff's arrival, but I almost wept for joy.  We'd already arranged for Maddie to spend the morning playing with cousins to keep her out from underfoot, so Brian, Cora, and I spent the morning in a quick-care medical center.  Poor Cora is in the midst of a cold, so she's been boycotting solid foods and wants only to nurse.  Of course, my milk dried up with dehydration so she'd nurse and cry, nurse and cry, nurse and cry.  After confirming it was  food poisoning, the medical center put us both on IVs (for which I was extremely grateful).  Unfortunately, that meant Cora had to be strapped into the car seat for almost an hour, and she cried the whole time, with neither of us able to pick her up.

We spent the rest of the day trying to recover and went a good 48 hours without eating; just keeping down a sip of water was a challenge for a while (and still ain't no picnic), but we again got some respite when the grandparents came over to help with childcare for the evening.

All day yesterday was spent weakly directing the movers and trying to keep a drippy, snotty baby happy.  Since neither of us had eaten, Brian and I were both weak and simply wanted to crawl into bed, but kids and movers wait for no one.

So here I am, cautiously saying I'm feeling better as I timidly drink my apple juice.  I feel terrible at how I've barely managed to connect with Maddie over the past couple of days; I'd told her in New York that as soon as we got moved I'd have more time for her and we'd play every day together.  And there I am, lying curled in a ball on the bed and doing my part to "watch" Cora by putting her with me and surrounding her with pillows so she won't fall off, and Maddie climbs on the bed and says, "Don't worry, Mommy.  I'll take care of you and Cora."

Ouch.

At any rate, hopefully the worst is behind us and we'll both feel hugely better tomorrow.

And we won't be ordering General Tsao's Chicken again any time soon.

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