A virus ate my brain

I'll be honest - I didn't actually realise it's been a week between blogs until just now when I opened up my Blogger. Normally, I am counting the minutes between therapy sessions posting a blog. I always feel better after blogging, as though I've spoken to a good friend, filled in my (theoretical) baby book, and saved a few hundred bucks in psychiatrist's fees. It's win-win all round, really.

But this week, I didn't think about my blog. Not much, anyway. Last weekend, in addition to the usual blur of ballet and swimming lessons, Christian and I went to the school Trivia Night for an evening of fundraising and frivolity. I had a great time, especially since I successfully bid for three months of boot camp in the silent auction. Boot camp baby!!!! (Yes, some of the other mums did think I was in fact quite mad, but I got $570 worth of boot camp for $65....and now I have someone to help me find the more shapely bottom underneath my saggy one. Boot camp baby!!!!!)

We also spent a considerable amount of time on Sunday finding our loungeroom floor, walking the dogs, and doing laundry. Let's just say that despite my best efforts, we never did find the floor...(but the dogs were knackered so that was good).

Obviously I went to work on Monday and Tuesday, which meant that instead of being a leisurely SAHM (bahahahahahahaha!!!) with time up my sleeve for blogging, I was standing in front of my Grade Fives being shouty. (Well....sometimes shouty, and sometimes not. They're quite lovely, actually. I just pretend to be cranky if they're taking too long with their maths). So what with preparing booklets to learn the seven times table, and making punctuation fun, and thinking about, y'know, teachery stuff, I didn't have time to blog. Whatever.

On Wednesday morning I whacked the girls into the double pram and went for a stupendously long walk with some of my mummy-mates from Jack's class. 'Twas a breezy, sunshiny morning, perfect for a walk along the beach road and made even better by the coffee break halfway along. Unfortunately, on the drive home I developed a splitting headache, which turned into a migraine, which became a virus that appears to be circulating the school. I spent the afternoon lying on the couch with my eyes closed, while my wonderful little girls played quietly around me. Every so often, Maisie would come over and pat my cheek and murmur sweet little babyisms into my eye, or Phoebe would tuck me in and fetch me another teddy. She even went and got a pillow, gently instructed me to lift my head, and plumped it underneath me to make me comfortable.

As I drove slowly to school to collect Jack, I thanked my daughters for behaving themselves so nicely and being the best little nurses a Mummy could ask for. "Well, Mummy, you look after me when I'm sick, so I'll look after you when you're sick," explained Phoebe, which made tears well in my red eyes and fall down my white-and-grey face. As soon as Christian arrived home last night, I crawled under several blankets and slept my way back to functionality. I must say, even though I am much better today, I am still extremely fatigued and achey - it's a horrible virus!! Must be completely better by tomorrow. I've got too much to do!

The girls and I kept very quiet today. We tidied up a little bit, read books, watched the Trinkabelle DVD. I had an appointment with my specialist for my post-surgery check-up. Next time I have a doctor's appointment, I'm going to convince the kids I'm feeling poorly, because those little girls sat placidly in the double pram, nibbling rice crackers and reading Dora books. No one needed to go to the toilet, no one disgraced themselves in their nappy, no one continuously interrupted Dr. Johnson asking for drinks or more snacks or to go to the circus. It was the easiest doctor's visit I've ever had, and I even had to get up on the examining table!! Seriously. If telling the kids how sick I am guarantees good behaviour.....well. You know what I'll be doing next time!

So now I've broken the blogging drought, I'm going back to bed. Sorry. But I don't really have anything to tell you, other than Jack announcing tonight that since he is going to be an astronaut when he grows up, and since he is also going to be Archie's master when he is grown up, that means that Archie will have to be a space dog.

I'll let you know how that one pans out.