It's Sunday night/Monday morning, somewhere after 1am... and I'm not sleeping.
Last night I thought I'd be domestic, because we'd had a great day, and N. had been terrific. So, I chopped up a whackload of onions and set out to make french onion soup for Hubby. Fast-forward to 7:30pm: Trying to get the child to bed, and I'm trying to finish the soup. During my first deglaze (which is something I do all. the. time.) I got splashback. Burned my right hand all over, and I'm still not sure if it was steam, broth, or grease. I spent the entire evening with my hand in a bowl of icewater. Luckily no blistering, but it BURNS like the fires of HELL.
Fast-forward again to 12:45am: I'm trying to doze while keeping my hand in a ziploc baggie with icewater, a facecloth, and some chunks of ice. Then the *ahem* party downstairs revs up. My bloodpressure spikes, I go down and scare the shit out of them with four little words, "Dude. Shut. It. Down."
Sunday was calmer - more ice compresses, a long walk outside with some froyo. I cooked a cauliflower pasta recipe that I found last week and it was delish. The child went to bed at 8pm (which is early, but he was happy). Push that good old FF button: 10:30PM: Child wakes up. Claims his whole body hurts. I'm not sure it's a nightmare or illness, but he has no fever (whew) and very little tenderness anywhere (swatted me away from palpating his belly, but more from annoyance, I think). I'm guessing he has gas, but he doesn't want to potty. All he wants is to sleep in my bed.
He was so sad and tired, so I tucked him in and got ready to climb in too (it's about 11:10 at this point). Unfortunately for me (apologies for the TMI), it turns out that I'm sick. I'm pretty sure it was the assault of the cauliflower pasta (which included copious amounts of garlic, chilis, and anchovies, none of which I've had lately), but I've been battling things since that point. It's been the longest two hours of my life.
I think I'm finally ready to climb into bed, and I just heard what sounds like kids firing off firecrackers and cherry bombs in the neighborhood. Which reminds me, they've started playing knicky-knicky nine-door lately, and it's really pissing me off. Sigh. I'm just a barrel of laughs tonight. Possibly going to delete this tomorrow when I'm lucid.
And now that I've gotten that stream of consciousness out, I think I'm going to go lie down... We're supposed to have a playdate tomorrow with our neighbors since daycare is closed. I'm desperately hoping that N.'s episode is temporary, because he loves the park and loves these kids.
Ellie, over and out.