It was a lousy night of sleep thanks to the combination of bursitis in one shoulder and a dry throat tickle that kept threatening to choke me. I was up and down all night and actually was glad that V. wasn't in bed with me, suffering through my misadventures.
When V. called this morning from San Francisco, I was informed that he is now suffering from the same virus, courtesy of me it appears. While I would never wish illness upon him, I have to say that secretly I am hoping that this will boost his empathy quotient. He rarely gets sick and I think he forgets how lousy it is especially if you still have to push through, as I do as a "single", stay at home momma. So maybe today as he struggles with ear pain, sore throat and chills, he'll reflect that this is how I felt/feel the last few days and still am trudging up and down three flights of stairs with loads of laundry, picking up toys throughout the house, and keeping up with our force of nature (I.) at the same time.
Being a stay at home momma, especially one whose husband is gone, is not for the faint hearted, not physically, mentally or emotionally. Why I don't give myself more credit for doing it for the last three years is beyond me. If it were someone else, I'd be giving them props every time I saw them. Stupid isn't it?
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