So drugs. My tooth pain lead to a root canal which didn’t go quite as planned and led to a major infection which led to drugs. As fun as that all was, I mean who doesn’t want to spend money to hear dentist office drills and the smell of dying teeth, it didn’t exactly encourage a functional life. Now this blog is many things but it is NOT Alice in Wonderland, dreamy, stream of consciousness writing. If it were maybe the drugs would be a help. As it is, I have had trouble stringing sentences together in any sort of coherent way. Now maybe that would be entertainment, but it would not be writing.
So here I am off any pain medication for a full 24 hours. I’m still taking antibiotics…again. I am still afraid to eat anything solid (does chili count–because that was my big venture yesterday into “real” food). I no longer look like a half chipmunk, but I still have a cheek with….character.
Unsurprisingly this blog was not my biggest problem in the last two weeks. I wasn’t exactly winning mother of the year. We muddled along is the best I can say. I don’t really feel loving when my mouth is throbbing, my stomach is reminding me I forgot to eat with the antibiotic and I’m debating over how much pain medicine I can take and remain upright. Along for the ride we had a difficult funeral to attend for a really nice man.
Have I mentioned laundry? um no. dishes? not so much. It appears that even when I feel like someone’s taking a hammer to my skull, my children still get hungry, make messes and need me.
Sounds like a perfect time to have mother’s day. Nothing says “You’re the best mother” like being in enough pain to want to yell at all your children to just leave you alone. I’m not normally a wimp…I’ve had many of my children without drugs…it’s just I didn’t have to MOTHER AT THE SAME TIME. I was with my husband, everyone was helping me and never did some darling little offspring of mine, whom it is my duty to love and nurture, pop in and say “I just wet my bed”.
I still don’t feel great, but if I waited for that nothing would ever happen. So here we go again. Baby steps. Back to flying. Do most fly babies have grass stains and bumps and bruises like this?