I have had a pretty draining week.On top of all this, on Friday we went to a bonfire at our friends' house, and yesterday we went to an art show (Andy had a piece in it) and hung out with friends we haven't seen enough of lately so we were out of our house for about ten hours in a row. While these were all awesome things to do and I'm glad we did them, it wasn't exactly the peaceful relaxing do-nothing weekend I was hoping for.
And right now I'm waiting for the baby to wake up from her nap so I can take her to the Urgent Care clinic, because we think she might be reinfected. Again.
I am really bummed about this, not just because it's disgusting and takes several hours of my life to treat, but because this will probably mean she can't visit with the grandma. I know the grandma is really, really trying, so this will be a big blow to her determination. But the fact is, neither Andy nor I are showing any symptoms, and I can assure you that I'm even more careful with treating the baby and her stuff than with our own. The only things the baby does that we don't are daycare, where they are super-careful and no one else has been infected at all, and visits with the grandma and brother.
Also, every visit means the baby is exposed to new germs, so she spends weekends all boogery and stuffy and it sucks. I know the visits are important, but last night she was so congested she kept spitting out her pacifier to breathe, and then fussing until we put it back in. This happened at least a dozen times between 1:30 a.m. and 7:30, when we moved her to our bed and could sort of stick the pacifier back in without actually waking up. This was a much better arrangement and we all snoozed until 10, but it didn't really make up for the hours of broken sleep. (And part of my brain is chiding me that this is our fault, because we were bragging yesterday to friends with a baby the same age that our baby sleeps through the night and has since she was six weeks old. So the universe is paying us back or something.)
Naturally, on top of all this stuff, I'm PMSing and so tired that I kind of want to cry. Coffee ice cream with chocolate sauce is helping a little.
For those of you playing along at home: diagnosis confirmed. Awesome. Four more hours deep-cleaning my house and an extra ten loads of laundry. Ugh.
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ReplyDeleteBut you're going to have the cleanest, sparkliest, most sanitized house that anyone caring for an infant has ever had! Man, I wish I had that kind of incentive! :D
ReplyDeleteI get it about the universe paying you back, I think it's petty that way... I recently got the wrath of it from verbalizing my own contentment at things not sucking!