ring my bell…

I feel like I should write something since I have been MIA for the last few days.

Truth be told, I actually have no witty, snarky, or informative thing to write.

I have been chugging NyQuil for the last few nights, even starting to enjoy the taste. Today is the first day that I can breathe, and my head is not pounding. My bedside table looks like something that would be found in a Nursery room: Tissues, DayQuil, NyQuil, Vicks Vapor Rub, water, orange juice, Halls, and not to mention the garbage bag filled with used tissues. Ah, I just painted you the most attractive picture of myself.

Welcome back to the land of the living.

The hubby mentioned it’s a good thing I don’t have a job, otherwise I would be taking sick days. Yeah. Imagine that.

The little one played nursemaid, left a bell by me bed to ring whenever I needed something. ‘Ding, Ding’. It actually worked. On Sunday, she made me tea and toast, and brought me orange juice as needed. On Monday I rang the bell and the middle one came to my room. I asked if she could get my clean sheets from the laundry room, bring them upstairs, and help me change my sheets. (I have an addiction to clean sheets on my bed.) She informed me that she would let the little one know and left. That is NOT the way the bell works.

Photo (9)

Little one did come with the clean sheets and she did help me change the sheets. Note to self…Be nice to this little one, she looks like the front-runner in taking care of me in Nursery home.

Yesterday, I tried to return to the land of the living. Sent the kids on their way with the neighbors to walk to school. Took a shower, got dressed, and went to the grocery store. Maybe I was a little over-anxious and not feeling completely ready to venture back to the land of the living, or maybe it was just the grocery store, but I found myself back in bed. The pounding head, the inability to breathe, and knowing it was day, left me longing for the NyQuil and the assistance of sleep.

I awaited for the boy to come home from school, promising that I would finally take him to get a x-ray for his ankle that has been hurting since Friday. I know it is not broken, which x-ray proved me correct. However, it always goes back to that damn growth plate and if it is still bothering him in a week, an MRI. You want them to grow so it’s never a growth plate issue, then you don’t want them to grow, well, you just want them little again.

My day consists of going to Ikea. The Muppets signed me up for the multi-cultural night at their school. Last year we were able to skip since it was the same night as the boy’s birthday. I felt turning a teenager was more important. We needed a break anyway. Our booth, the Swedish table, was very popular, but people also laughed at us at the same time. I did not have enough time to get a proper food representation of Sweden…so I put a bowl of Swedish fish on our table. Hence the popularity of our table.  fish in stockholm market 2102

In my defense, they were made by Malaco, a Swedish candy factory. I am thinking about getting some real fish at Ikea, salmon or herring.  Maybe that will deter the Muppets from signing me up next year?

‘Ding, Ding, Ding, Ring a ling, Ding, Ding’

This morning I woke up and rang my bell. No one came. The only one who acknowledged the bell is the neurotic dog. She left the room.

shy butt

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