The girls were so healthy last year that I honestly forgot how draining sick kids are.

Alena is still fevered, tired with a chesty cough and a dose of the runs. I actually have a lot of stuff to do this week, so in her excitement to get back to her friends, I sent her cheerful self to daycare this morning. She spent all of an hour there before her fever spiked again and they called me. I had dropped off a happy, sparkly eyed girl at 8:30 and arrived to find a flushed-cheek sad girl at 9:30.

Steve is at work tonight so I’m trying to get myself together enough to fold the million piles of laundry and maybe even crack a textbook for my exam on Monday. I feel really spacey and exhausted this week anyway, and the fact that time yields for no sick child doesn’t help.

On a completely unrelated and possibly TMI note, I went off the pill about six months ago (it made me cah-RAZY) and to my utter surprise and despite the fact that I have never in my entire life since the very first day I had my period been regular (aside from the years I was on the pill) have had a period every damn month. Huh. Lookit me, all grown up with a mature body and shit.

I’m actually thrilled because the whole point of Steve’s vasectomy was so that I could go off the pill/that we wouldn’t break into a cold sweat every month for the three days before my period because we really don’t want anymore kids but I was afraid to go off the pill since every other time in my life, removing the pill has resulted in zero periods and many ovarian cysts. So, huzzah.

Plus the whole crazy thing. Like, seriously. Pre-period week I was on edge, anxiety riddled and crazy moody. (Plus Steve became the most annoying man ever.) I switched brands every six months or so, and the first couple months would be ok until it started to get worse. Eventually I decided to fuck it, cause being crazy sucked more than I was willing to deal with and the worse that was going to happen was that I would realize I was still prone to cysts and would go back on it.

I remember when I was young, my mom told me about her friend who always had very irregular periods until she had children. Also, because she was so irregular it actually took her a long time to get pregnant. Then after she had her kids, there was never another problem. What the hell, body? Luckily, we didn’t have any trouble getting me knocked up (amazingly, actually), but the thing the body needed to be regular was the thing that being irregular was making hard to get.

AnyHOO! This is long-winded and I’ve probably thoroughly bored you to tears. In summary, I have spent much of the week taking care of sick kids and eating peanut butter ice cream and wrapping my body around a hot water bottle. The End.

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