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I don’t know what I did to deserve any of this.
Sunday started off normally. My husband, J, made us all breakfast and then went off to his volunteer museum gig. Bubba and I hung out and took a late morning nap. A little after 11am, everything changed.
Food poisoning set in, and I was down for the count.
There will be no photos in this entry. For obvious reasons.
Bubba was in such an amazing mood, too. I just laid on the couch, running back and forth from the bathroom for two hours before finally texting J to come home. I needed help.
Bubba kept following me into the bathroom, and I’m glad he’s not old enough to start talking about the things he saw while in there with me. It wasn’t pretty.
I believe it was food poisoning for a few reasons:
- I went out without Bubba and J to grab food with some friends for a little on Saturday.
- Neither Bubba nor J are sick.
- Because it’s easier to sleep at night thinking it’s just me in this hell. I can’t take care of all the babies (J is included in this.)
I called out of work today, and feel pretty bad about that. My stomach hasn’t stopped cramping or making wacky sounds. I’ve only been at my job a month, so I really didn’t want to call out any time soon. I also feel that “food poisoning” could be misconstrued as “hungover.” I wish I was hungover. I wish I could drink more than half a glass of something without wanting to fall asleep.
That’s my day. And my life. It’s in shambles. Now if you’ll excuse me.