Let’s catch up.

Oh my gosh.  It’s been so long that I honestly don’t know where to begin.

I decided to work a lot during the first two weeks of December so that I could take the last two weeks off.  That plan was BRILLIANT I tell you, brilliant.  Not that I even have a full time job, more of a part-time part-time job.  But still, the fact that I was not making sales calls on the week of Christmas was a first in many years.

Mine and Oatmeal’s 3rd anniversary has come and gone.  Christmas in Texas with the Griffins has come and gone.  Christmas in Louisiana with the Finleys has come and gone.  We saw every single family member possible and enjoyed the hours, minutes or moments that were given.



New Year’s Eve was supposed to be relaxing and uneventful.  At 7pm I was sitting down to watch the Aggies play in the bowl game and I put something cocky up on my Facebook account that basically said, “I have no plans tonight but at least I’ll be fresh and energetic in the morning, no hangover for me!”  By 8pm I found myself in our half bathroom where I basically remained for the next 8-10 hours.  The stomach flu had come to visit.   That was on Wednesday, and it was Saturday before I was able to leave our house.  ROUGH I tell you, ROUGH.

This whole sick period made me realize how different my role is from Oatmeal’s in our marriage.  When I got sick I was literally so ill and queasy that the action of moving from the master bathroom to my side of the bed was a challenge that I could barely endure.  The first night that I was sick, Oatmeal had fallen asleep early anyway, so I didn’t expect much help.  But the following day I swear I thought that perhaps he was leaving me to die so that he could collect a hefty life insurance prize.  I was so weak and queasy that I could really only manage in the fetal position.  At one point I got worried about dehydration, so I weakly called out for him to bring me a glass of water.  I had to call his name about 10 times before he seemed to hear me.  He did very promptly bring me what I asked, but no more was brought nor offered before he was gone again.  The water that he did bring me was in a huge wide mouthed mason jar, which I literally dumped over into the center of the bed about five minutes later.  It completely flooded our bed and I ended up just throwing all of the bedding to one side and scooching over to avoid the pond in the middle.

Now in Oatmeal’s defense, he was taking care of Poppyseed.  He knew I didn’t have it in me to be playful with her, and he also knew that if she were to see me she would want me to get up and do things with her.  So he pretty much kept her contained downstairs and outdoors all day long, feeding her and taking her potty and playing with her at the park.  For that I am very grateful.  But I do sort of think that he thought I was joking when I asked him to please not cook anything in the house for fear that the smell may make me sick in our bed.  Because I swear all he did all weekend was fry bacon and pork chops on our stove top after I told him that.

After maybe the third round of pork chops I suggested that they go to his mom’s.  If I was to be sick and die it may as well be alone and not filled in a house that smelled of roasted swine.  He offered to get me a liter of gatorade before he left and I quickly accepted.  Thankfully he offered that much because that is all I consumed for the next 36 hours.

At some point during the weekend I may or may not have told one of his relatives that if I were ever to actually get fatally ill and go on hospice, to please not listen to him if he said I’d want to die at home alone with him.  UM NO WAY.  At least hire a nurse.  Around the clock.

What’s funny is that this is how I remember my illness, but when you ask him he will throw his hands up in the air and swear that he offered his services many times and all I did was scream “Leave me alone I cannot make any decisions!”  Well just FYI asking someone on her deathbed to make decisions is useless.  When he gets sick next I will just make a point to narrate all of the things that I do for him without him asking or deciding.  I will place a glass of water and juice nearby him and check for refills every few hours.  I’ll take a trip to the store for some anti-nausea tea and maybe something useful from the pharmacy.  I will take out my arsenal of essential oils and rub them on his soles and chest.  I’ll thaw out some of my awesome homemae broth and cook some chicken and vegetable soup.  I may even throw a few noodles in there and not harass him for eating poisonous gluten.  And I’d set my laptop up in bed with a few rented DVDs so that he could just lie and relax.

Gentlemen and husbands, if you are reading this then perhaps you should bookmark this page and refer to the paragraph above should your wife get sick.

Okay okay.  I’ve gone too far.  Honey, if you’re reading this, I love you.  You did great taking care of Poppyseed.  I’m sorry if I did snap at you when you offered to help.  I cannot deny these claims.  I love you very much and I’m glad that you will not be collecting your small fortune from the life insurance company.  Guess you’ll have to keep saving for that ranch the old fashioned way.

The next post will be better folks, or I’ll sure try.  The first one after a long absence is always the toughest!





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