I'm ALIVE!

One of the worst things about being sick when your single is that you have no one to take care of you, well except maybe your good friends, or your Mom might come by, if you are seeing someone, you just can't call up the guy because even if he was the empathetic kind, there was no way you wanted him seeing you all makeup-less, feverish, vomiting, smelling like, well poop.

I mean you want to keep the mystery ALIVE!



I would actually save my BUSINESS, you know the BIG JOB business, for work or run out to the nearest public washroom because there was no way that I wanted my man to know that my POOP STINKS like everybody else's! And trust me, I detest public washrooms, hence I never lived with any guy until the Man.



Flash forward to 13 years later, where my man has seen a baby head crowning and the Doctor tearing back the Vag to bring his 1st born into the world, and where the second child came Sunroof (C-section) and had already researched that he DID NOT want to look behind the curtain, but was still traumatized by the violent tugging, pulling, and blood he did witness.

I think back to the Nurse in the Triage of Maternity telling me,
No need to be SHY or MODEST here anymore!

I never thought that this would now apply to the rest of my life.

Now I am begging for him to see my in the terrible state of sickness to get my meager dose of sympathy, but for some reason it just doesn't hold as much merit as it did in the early years. I mean I was basically sitting on the toilet and vomiting in our jacuzzi tub, better use more than Tang* to clean that, quite the dance act as the movement of your body being being contorted & forced into opposite directions would put any SYTYCDC contestant to shame.

Where is he when I need him, at least to fend off the kids as they curiously, and questioningly asked me, Mom what's wrong? Mom I'm hungry! Mom! Mom! Mommy Mommy are you, are you sick? I tell you, I'm raising geniuses here.

Oh he was there, he came back the night before, he was just fixing the DVR. Priorities! Priorities I tell ya! I am just not sure of the man's order of priorities. To his defence he did run out and get me meds, after he fixed the DVR. Immodium, Gravol, and Advil, oh my! With a side car of Gingerale & some Gatorade for good measure.


Drugs! There's nothing like em. Everything was just fine, until 4 in the morning.

Mommy Mom MOMMMMMY I wet my myself! I woke up from my drug-induced stupor to a sobbing 4 yr. old boy. I stumbled to the bathroom with him and turned on the light.

OH he wet himself alright, he also proceeded to poop himself silly. As I was gagging along with the hubby, I thought, wow thank you universe! He hadn't crawled into our bed and then pooped himself there. The Man took him into the shower and I went to survey the runny poop damage in his room. Everywhere from the bed railings to the pillow and most definitely the covers. I was delirious, but I stripped everything and totally weak, lacking any energy I dutifully tried my best to clean it up. After a shower, a quick change for everyone, as poop seemed to appear on us everywhere, I stumbled back into bed.

I thought about that cigarette ad- You've come a long way Baby!

Just like these ads, I look back and think how silly I was back in the day.


Notice in my ineptitude, I had to film with my camera instead of download it, it just wouldn't work.

*Tang is supposed to work wonders on your jacuzzi tub jets, still have yet to try it, although the baseball caps on the top shelf of the dishwasher works wonders*