It’s Sunday afternoon. And instead of grocery shopping, doing laundry, cleaning, or taking care of a billion other things I need to accomplish in a weekend’s time, I’m working.
Why? I don’t necessarily need to be working, but I’m trying to put in a preemptive strike, in case something happens.
See, O threw up twice on Thursday night. I talked to a mom in his daycare class earlier that day, and she told me her daughter had gotten sick, too. (Ruh–roh.) I called daycare on Friday, and the director told me that there is a stomach bug going around. (Double ruh–roh.)
But on Friday, O seemed better. His spirits were high, and he was running around like a madman. I cautiously fed him cereal and other bland foods. Every once in awhile he’d stop, pat his tummy and say “Yummy, hurt. Yummy, hurt,” but there was no more throwing up. Then on Saturday, while he was a little fussy (I attributed it to the cabin fever caused by BlizzardStormWhiteDeath08), he didn’t throw up. I thought we were in the clear.
But then, the stomach-bug fairy said, “Haha! Not so fast!”And on Saturday night he threw up again. Just once, but still.
So, now it’s Sunday. I have some major deadlines at home and work, and O is at his dad’s today. What do I do? Do I take care of the house that so desperately needs a good cleaning? Do I actually put together and install the new cordless home phone I bought three weeks ago and haven’t had a chance to touch? Or do I do work? Just in case O might still be sick tomorrow and I might have to miss work or work from home?
I’m picking work first (and well, a little blogging, obviously). I’ll try to fit in anything else second. I’m probably going to regret this choice wholeheartedly come Wednesday when we have no groceries, no clean laundry, and I’m navigating a block-exploding minefield of toys every time I try to get out my front door.
We’ll see what happens.
Oh, and Keepers of Daylight Savings Time, aka Congress? I could have really used that hour this weekend. I’m just sayin‘.