November 7, 2018
That’s the saying, “big girls don’t cry.”
Spoiler alert: NOT TRUE
Today I cried in the car getting gas because I caught your little virus and I have painful and itchy fucking blisters on my hands and feet that are multiplying like flies.
I cried because it’s sore and annoying and walking hurts and just breathing hurts. I cried because I think one of these blisters has popped up on my nipple but I still have to nurse so I am dying every 3 or so hours.
I cried because who the fuck is there to take care of me when I am firstly, sick and secondly, probably contagious. No one. That’s who. Your dad, bless his little hypochondriac soul is basically the opposite of nice when people are sick around him, you guys are still too young and needy and the dog is of no help at all. Thanks dog.
And this is adulthood in a nutshell. You might not be able to walk properly because the soles of your feet are so fucked up that they are unrecognizable but you’re going to the park anyways because toddlers don’t understand why not.
You may want to curl up and die but you will be whipping out sore boobs on command because baby’s gotta eat.
And when the day is done and the dishes are cleaned and you have five seconds to relax you’ll probably not take it and hit repeat for the next day.
Full disclosure: I still love being your parent when I’m sick – I just wish someone would take care of me!!!!