Monday, July 12, 2010


Mondays just sort of suck by their very nature, except that they happen to be the day of the week when both my kids were born. That = Monday's saving grace for me. Otherwise, Monday would be dead to me.

Saturday I came down with a cold, which may explain away at least a smidge of that profuse sweating I did during family photos. By Saturday evening I was 3 glasses deep in Emergen-C (tip: mix it with something like Crystal Lite, lemonade, make it more palatable) and looking down the barrel of a cold. In July. When it is 110 out. You know what sucks? Being sick when the outside temperature makes you feel like a chicken in a rotisserie. I went to bed Sunday night feeling like death warmed over to the point of sweating, and then this morning I woke, still sick. With dread in my stomach, I admitted defeat and got up to shower because the last thing you want to do when you have a cold is skip your shower and leave the house smelling like swamp ass (remember: 110 out!) without even realizing you do. I got up at the same time as I heard Rohan crying in his crib, so I said "You get him. I shower." to Darrick in a very me-Jane kind of way, and smiled to myself. Hell, at least if I was sick and getting ready for work, he could play househubby and get the baby, right? That'll learn him!

Twenty minutes later I'm toweling off and notice the house is silent, which must mean my hubby is down making me coffee and feeding the kids. Except. He's not. Instead, I swing open the bathroom door and there, in my bed with fresh sheets from last night, piled into the coziest cuddle puddle I've ever seen, were Darrick, Luca, and Rohan. Snoozing. Woozy-snoozing. Not Gonna Get Up Today style. Zizz Zizz Zuzz.

To say I was bitterly jealous to the core might be an understatement.

The rest of the day went something like that. In short, I went to a presentation where there was no a/c on and the room was packed with 25 seniors (in age, not school) who all spoke Spanish. Then I returned to my office where the a/c was not working (noticing a theme here) and continued to sweat. There was some swamp ass happening, I am sure, except that I couldn't smell myself so I just had to go on blind faith and light a vanilla scented candle and use good smelling lotion. Precutionary measures, really. Like the courtesy flush of the B.O. variety.

But then tonight after dinner, we sliced a fat circle of watermelon and shared it, sitting on the floor, 3 out of 4 of us shirtless. Then we wrestled and giggled until the rims of Rohan's eyes reddened and he began to rub them with fat little fists. My boy let me snuggle and nuzzle him before putting him in his crib (where he fell asleep on his own, thank goodness, meaning the sleep-resisting streak seems to be over!!!), and then Luca and Darrick and I read some books together. We worked on learning letters some, talking about how 'O' is just a circle, but 'e' is half a circle with a tail of sorts, and then 'T' is a tall man with a hat and 'S' is slithering like a snake. Eventually this got us to a place where she recognized all 4 letters together and we read the word 'toes'. It was awesome.

After the book, we went up to bed, and she brushed her teeth while I sang her Twinkle Twinkle and Rockabye Baby (her requests). When she had trouble squeezing out her pink princess toothpaste, I offered to help. "No thank you, SIR!" she giggled, and then we were both laughing, and then she went to bed.

My cold? It feels almost gone. My day? It definitely could have been more awesome, but it also could have been much worse.

Tomorrow's Tuesday. Not a day on which either of my babies was born, but a fine (hot) day I'm sure. I think I might just go steal a certain princess lover from her bed for a cuddle puddle right now.

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