Worst birthday ever

Yes, folks, you heard it here first- my 32nd birthday was a total bust. As if turning another year older wasn't bad enough, I had to come down with the 48-hour plague to serve as the proverbial cherry on top. Allow me to share the events leading up to the worst birthday ever:

The week of January 6-12 was one during which this mommy got VERY little sleep. Baby Rut (who will from now on be referred to as "Snurfler" for reasons which have been explained in an earlier post) and I were really struggling with the whole "sleep through the night" concept. He'd done it several times at that point but was very inconsistant and I wasn't comfortable enough with the idea of letting him just cry it out. Even though he no longer needed a late-night bottle, we had fallen back into the habit of letting him spend the rest of the night in bed with us once he woke up at 2 or 3, but Snurfler was disturbing (Sweet)D's sleep and that is really not something I could allow to continue, since D spends so much of his work day behind the wheel. So, I started going upstairs to the guest bedroom upon hearing his wake up calls. A good idea, in theory, but I often couldn't go back to sleep once I was up there. To make matters worse, I was having a hard time falling asleep in the first place once I got in bed at 9 or 10, regardless of how little sleep I'd gotten the night before. By that Wednesday I was running on about 12 hours total for the whole week, but I still managed to make it to the Wednesday playdate for one of my mom's groups. As tired as I was, it turned out to be a great thing that I made it to that playdate, because I got to know some really nice chicas. Several of them listened to my tale of sleepless woe and gave me a "it'll get easier and better very soon, we promise" pep talk.

By the time Thursday rolled around, "very soon" still wasn't soon enough and I had reached the end of my tether, so exhausted was I. Sweet D and Granny Rut to the rescue! He came home from work, picked up Snurfler, and delivered him soundly to Granny's waiting arms. With the Snurfler out of the house, I had nothing to do but rest my weary bones with a big fat nap. I woke up 4 hours later feeling MUCH better and leisurely readied myself to meet up with my Book Club at Spaghetti Western. Once there, I enjoyed a soul-replinishing Bellini with my fellow literature lovers and all felt right with the world again. The rest of the week finished in a blur. We took the Snurfler to church on Sunday and he got all kinds of admiration when the service was over because he'd behaved so beautifully and flirted shamelessly with everyone he could see over Daddy D's shoulder.

On Monday the 14th, Moozie and I took Robert to the Dr. for his 4 month check up. He weighed in at 21 pounds, 6 ounces and measured 28 inches, ranking him well above the 95th%ile for his age group. In fact, he's the size and weight of an average 11-month-old! Still, his Dr. said he looked and sounded great and gave me the go-ahead to let him start crying it out "when we felt ready." Oy. Snurfler got 5 shots in his legs but, thanks to some well-timed doses of Tylenol, he weathered those sticks and the rest of the day like an absolute champ.

On Tuesday the 15th, when I met my new friend Ashley and her daughter Savannah at the Children's Museum. We had a nice time hanging out in the Tot Spot, chatting and letting the kiddos explore. As we were walking through the parking garage to leave, a paper clip that was lying on the ground punctured my right Croc and stuck in my foot. Lovely. Thankfully, it didn't hurt too much but I knew I needed to get to the Dr. ASAP to update my tetanus.

Wednesday was pretty uneventful, I made some beef and barley soup and cornbread that Sweet D inhaled when he got home from work.

Thursday morning I woke up with a really icky cough. It was deep and dry and hacky. Although I didn't have any other symptoms and felt fine in every other way, I called Granny and asked if she would mind coming over to help me with the Snurfler. The last time I'd woken up feeling a little off, she'd come over and whatever it was had passed by the end of the day. I was hoping that would happen again.

This time, whatever it was wasn't even close to being finished with me by the end of the day. It grabbed hold of me, wrapped a rope around itself, and held on for dear life. By 4:30 that afternoon, I knew I was in for a long ride and so I made two phone calls, the first one to make a doctor's appt. for the next day and the next one to Moozie, who drove right over and collected the Snurfler to go home with her. I started feeling chilled (and those of you who know me well know that rarely ever feel cold! I'd be content to turn the heat off on the coldest nights if D would let me.) I ate a can of chicken & rice soup, took some Nyquil, and went to bed.

On Friday morning I woke up feeling ickier and running a low-grade fever. I slept until noon and somehow managed to pry myself out of bed and get dressed. Papa Rut arrived at 1 PM to take me to the doctor. Once there, Doc informed me I had virus and predicted it would most likely have run its course by my birthday on Sunday. He prescribed some cough syrup and the nurse gave me the flu shot they'd been saving for me (it was the last one they had!) and then updated my tetanus booster. I was feeling slightly more chipper after hearing news that we probably wouldn't have to cancel our plans to celebrate my birthday over brunch at Brennan's on Sunday. Granny Dora met up with us at the house with some delicious chicken soup she'd made for me and my birthday dessert, since we had to cancel the dinner reservations we'd made for that night. Still, I was feeling confident that the worst was over and I would be fine the next day.

Boy, was I wrong! Even after getting into bed before 7 PM and taking another large dose of Nyquil, Friday night was horrible. I woke up at 3 and couldn't go back to sleep until 6 because I was coughing so much. I finally got out of bed on Saturday morning at 10:45, but I went straight to the couch. Drank some orange juice, ate a bowl of chicken soup, and proceeded to get progressively worse as the day wore on. I cancelled my birthday brunch and started swilling cough drops to soothe my throat, which was killing me after 2 days of hacking. At 3:00 I dragged myself to the shower in hopes of washing some of the sick away. Got dressed, didn't even have the energy to put on socks, and we drove to the Land of Sugar. I wanted my mommy and I'm pretty sure D was tired of being bossed around by such a grumpy sicko.

Made it to Moozie and Daggles and succumbed right away to my favorite of the two most comfortable couches on the planet. Moozie rubbed some Vicks on my feet and I hardly moved from that spot for the next 18 hours. It was good to see the Snurfler, though. Moozie, Daggles, and D took turns holding him so that I could see him from a safe distance, not like I had the energy to hold him, anyway. I was asleep by 9. The only thing I had eaten the entire day was one bowl of chicken soup.

My birthday dawned, bright and sunny. I woke up around 7 feeling 65% better after having slept pretty much the entire night with only a couple of mild coughing fits. We all enjoyed a yummy breakfast of TJ Cinnamon rolls, scrambled eggs, bacon, and orange juice. I even got "breakfast in bed." As the day wore on I regained more energy and strength, but we all still decided it would be best to spend a couple more days in Sugar Land. We ordered my birthday dinner from Carrabba's, one of my favorite restaurants in the whole world. We also each enjoyed a slice of my birthday cake. No, I didn't bother with candles!

By Tuesday afternoon I was at about 80% and felt at least well enough to resume my mommy duties, so Daggles drove me, the Snurfler, and Otis T. Dog back to the Land of Pears.

It's now almost 2 weeks later and I have finally stopped coughing. Hallelujah. Oh, and I have already enjoyed one of my "makeup" birthday dinners. Granny and Papa took us to Killen's Steakhouse on Tuesday night and we all grubbed down! Tomorrow night, Daggles is bringing us Shrimp Etouffee and Italian Cream Cake from Treebeard's. And I'm still waiting to reschedule my birthday Brunch at Brennan's with the Bs!

Birthdays are over-rated, anyway!