What an uneventful weekend! Lots of Olympics and movie rentals…if I were a winter Olympian, I think I’d want to be a cross country skier. Skiathlon women are fierce. And I love the way they flop dramatically across the finish line.
Woke up late for our first JD McCarty physical therapy appt on Saturday. Finn got in! Yay! He had a blast. (Playground post about this place)
Joey performed a wedding for a couple of sweet college students on Saturday. I had to stuff a cheese cube in Finn’s mouth because he wouldn’t quit pointing at the stage and yelling, “Daddy!”
And I’m sick. Really sick. I mean, I’ve had a cold for over a month. I get it; I can’t take anything much while I’m pregnant, and I know my sinuses get inflamed in the second trimester, but whatever hit me on Thursday morning was something different. Mean.
I’ve had no sense of smell or taste for five days. I took Finn to the nursery at church on Sunday and all the ladies pinched their noses: “Phew! What’s that smell?” Well, it was my son. And he had burst through his diaper; poop up the back, and I couldn’t smell it.
I have the hearing acuity of an ninety-year-old. My clients are making fun of how I’m whispering instructions: “Do what kind of push up exactly?!” I’m not sleeping well (sorry, Joey!). My face hurts. My ears won’t pop, and each time I cough this horrible, manly cough, my stomach feels like it’s going to explode. It’s just cruel to combine round ligament tears with deep coughing.
My weekend was full of Mucinex (which is worthless), wads of tissues, herbal tea and honey…
If you’re sick like me, order this next time you go to Starbucks (but not the location on Main in Norman…they “don’t do steamed lemonade. It messes up their wands.” What?!) :
“Grande mint tea with steamed lemonade and one packet of honey”
Thank me later.
…blueberries and green juice. We have to cheat and buy our green juice/smoothies now. Finn can’t handle the sound of the juicer, the blender or the food processor. He thinks we’re all dying or something. You have to choose your battles.
I hate going to the doctor. The worst is when they call you back–you think you’re getting somewhere–and then you wait in an even colder room for over an hour while you hear the doctor telling jokes in the hallway. It drives me batty.
But I woke up today feeling badly enough so I surrendered and went to the doctor. No flu, bronchitis or strep. No clue. So I’m on a low dose antibiotic and I pray to Jesus it works. Because I’m miserable. And the only time I hate my job is when I’m sick. Not fun to teach a spin class when every breath hurts.
Well, here’s to choosing your battles and hoping your health is better than mine of late.