I am still onÂ antibioticsÂ for strep.
I am still rocking this awesome cold. It involves many, many boxes of tissues, some maximum strength mucinex dm that is supposed to be helping with these horrific coughing attacks but really doesn’t seem to be doing anything but making me choke trying to get the horse-sized pills down my gullet.
I cannot stop tonguing the impacted wisdom tooth that decided to break the surface ON THE SIDE of my top left gum this week, rendering me not really able to even open my mouth. And now I have to have the wisdom tooth taken out, but unfortunately my insurance coverage and my dentist are both stuck in Canada and I am, well, not.
(sideways. It’s coming in sideways).
I made the mistake of doing pilates yesterday. Do you know what it feels like to have a coughing fit when your abs are hurting like ass?
I didn’t get my annual Mother’s Day sleep-in because the husband isn’t here. He’s in Toronto. In our new house. Did I mention that he’s not here? And in our new house? You know, the one that I have never seen? Oh, and did I mention where he’s going to be on our anniversary? Oh yes, that’s right. NOT HERE. Oh, and did I mention my awesome mother’s day gift from my husband? Oh right…I didn’t. Because I didn’t get anything…not even one of those assy cards that sings an assy song.
I gave at least 8 time-outs to Isabella and Josh, who were in rare form today. I am pretty sure they were going for some record for the uttering the most “I hate you Mommy”s and “You are the worst mother in the world”s on Mother’s Day ever.
I ate mini-wheats for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Fancy.
I called my mother to wish her a happy mother’s day and instead of wishing me one back…maybe she forgot that I am a mother too…she gave me a lecture about how leaving my wisdom tooth untreated for a few days is going to most likely give me heart disease.
I…well, there’s this problem. My dog, well, he is kind of in love with me. Which, I realize, is kind of cute and all. Until he starts making this horrible whiney sound whenever I leave the room. It doesn’t stop. I mean, this guy is a serious problem. He needs to be attached to a lead all the livelong day, lest he eat inanimate objects and end up in the hospital getting his stomach emptied. But, he also needs to be wherever I am at all times. Or else THE SOUND. THE SOUND! It’s like nails on a chalkboard. She thinks he needs some prozac. I think she might be on to something because that sound is making my ears bleed.
Happy Mother’s Day to me.