Zombie Mom

I have not left the house in days.  My wee one has caught a bug.  Every morning, at 4:45, his pitiful crying wakes me—the Tylenol wore off.  His fever has climbed as high as 104.4 and some days fallen as low as 98.9.

Each morning unfolds the same.  I give him a dose of Tylenol, he blows his nose and I tuck him back into bed.  “Try to sleep a little bit more,” I say and usually, he does. 

This morning was different.

We have been awake since 5:30 AM.  I am Zombie Mom.  No amount of Bucks County French Roast has helped.  Not to mention, I don’t have squat to do—I am walking in circles.  I update my Facebook status every ten minutes.  If not via Facebook, via Twitter.  Yea, I’m guilty of twittering.  What the hell is this world coming to when grown adults have nothing better to do than update each other regarding the inane thoughts that pass through our heads.  And, some of us adults refer to it as twittering. 

Mayo (a.k.a. Outnumbered) has already written a blog about this issue, so I’ll move on…

This is how I spend my days:

Cooking things like Campbell’s Chicken Soup with Disney’s Cars-shaped Noodles.  And thinking it quite tasty.

Watching Thomas & Friends.  And enjoying it way too much.

Playing Fisher-Price Farm.  And making a random Walrus show up.

Uploading images of Benjamin’s artwork to his new art blog.  Because my kid is the best “artist under 5” ever!

Eagerly awaiting holiday photo cards of other people’s kids.  Come on…you do, too…don’t ya?  And you sometimes mock ‘em, don’t ya?

Scrubbing glitter off of my hands.  And my lap.  And my face.  And Ben’s face.  Damn glittery holiday cards.

Marveling at how the idiots who live across the street worship one football team so much that they are willing to hang a teddy bear dressed in an opposing teams’ jersey from a noose.  Outside on their porch.  Amongst their haphazardly hung icicle lights.  Classy.

Oh, thank God!  I just heard my dryer buzz.  Now I can fold some laundry.  Do you think I should Tweet and let everyone know I am going downstairs to get my laundry out of the dryer.  What?  No.  I guess you are right.  I not only have laundry to fold, I also have to go cut that poor teddy bear down.  Is that glitter on my nose?