What’s worse than having a grumpy, constantly whining child?
A grumpy, constantly whining child AND a sick, constantly whining husband.
Before I complain too much, I will say that Tate was actually quite sick. He sounded like there was an elephant sitting on his chest. And the things he coughed up. Oh. My. Gawd. Not that I saw it, but, dude, I heard it.
And Peanut? I don’t know what was up his ass, but damn, did he ever whine. In actuality, it probably wasn’t something up his ass, but something in his mouth. Like teeth. That’s just a guess.
First there were the temper tantrums (from both of my darling “children”).
“I’m going to take more medicine, two Tylenol Cold & Sinus isn’t enough”, says Tate.
“No, that’s a bad idea. You don’t f*ck with Acetaminophen. Seriously, it could make you very sick”, says the voice of reason (yes, me).
A Tate tirade followed. Something about me not knowing what I’m talking about. (Right.)
“Peanut it is time to go inside. It’s hot and Mommy’s tired.”
A Peanut tirade followed. Something about “aaah, dada, bada mama, no, aaaaah.”
Then there were the unreasonable responses to simple questions.
“Can we NOT order onions on the pizza next time?”, I ask.
Tate, flipping out, says “YOU CAN ORDER WHATEVER YOU WANT, I ASKED YOU WHAT YOU WANTED AND….”. I’ll stop there. I don’t need to relive it.
“Peanut, do you want some milk?”, I ask.
Peanut, flipping out, screams.
Luckily redirection worked when times got tough.
“Look Tate, it’s Modern Marvels! It’s about airplanes, ooh, you like airplanes”, I suggest during a whining about who-knows-what session.
He becomes quiet and settles in watching his favorite show.
“Look Peanut, it’s Blues Clues! Can you help Steve find the clues? Ooh, I bet you can!”, I suggest during a whining about who-knows-what session.
He becomes quiet and settles in watching his favorite show.
I’ve never been so relieved that it’s Monday morning. At least I’ll have only one whiner to deal with today. And I can always put him in his room.
Warning!!! A much needed tirade/tantrum of my own is coming after a weekend like this one. WARNING!!!!
I HATE onions on pizza and I’m NEVER eating anymore damn pizza with onions on it. If you want onions, order them on the side and put them ON the pizza so I can quit picking them OFF the pizza. And, Kia, cashier at Walmart, when someone says hello, you say hello back. Jerk. Have I mentioned before that I’m pregnant. Well I am. And uncomfortable and leaking at the boobs and swelling at the feet and kicked in the ribs and tired and weepy. If the bathrooms are too dirty for you, then clean them yourself. Same goes for the coffee table and the kitchen floor and the laundry room and the office. If I have to watch one more stinkin’ minute of the History Channel…well, lets just say it won’t be pretty. And stop rolling your toybox out of your playroom or I’m going to smash the wheels on it. I DON’T CARE if you eat it or not! It’s not poison, it’s ham. HAM! And just what the hell are my neighbors doing on such a beautiful day in the afternoon. Get your asses outside and enjoy the weather. Chat with your neighbors.
Uh, sorry. I needed to get that off my chest. I forgot that you were here.
Carry on. Don’t mind me.
SuburbanOblivion
March 26, 2007 at 11:35 am
Oh, sounds like you had a very fun weekend! LOL!
Hope everyone is feeling better today!
Swistle
March 26, 2007 at 12:17 pm
That’s so funny. I love the parallel husband/child care. And “It’s not poison. It’s ham! HAM!” I hate onions on pizza, too. Actually, I don’t really like onions on anything. I hate the smell.
tulipmom
March 26, 2007 at 1:02 pm
There’s no question that handling a husband (much less a sick husband) is akin to raising another child. Sometimes I wonder why I’m trying for a second when I already have two!!
Beckie
March 26, 2007 at 2:24 pm
Sometimes men are worse than children! I have never been so glad to see somebody go to work as I was this morning. Hope your week gets better!
Shelly
March 26, 2007 at 5:21 pm
Mondays are definitely a nice relief to the weekend, aren’t they? Something I NEVER thought I’d hear myself say, but it’s certainly true.
Brrrr
March 26, 2007 at 6:30 pm
Wow … all that and it was barely past 6am on your Monday morning! Hope your week goes better than your weekend!
Crunchy Carpets
March 26, 2007 at 6:53 pm
Sounds like you are having as much fun as me!
Sick husbands really suck
Colleen
March 26, 2007 at 7:05 pm
That was histerical to read… although I can say from recent experience I know it was anything but funny to live through. What is it about men? They are such babies about being sick. Every time I’m sick I just have to pretend I’m not. Things need to get done around here no matter how I’m feeling. But my husband gets sick and the world should stop revolving! Add on the teething toddler and it’s enough to bring on a rant! So… no apology neccessary.
Jenny
March 26, 2007 at 7:52 pm
sounds like a 3-martini weekend.
Kim
March 26, 2007 at 8:01 pm
Horay for Monday! I hope the rest of the week goes better for you!
Janet a.k.a. "Wonder Mom"
March 26, 2007 at 8:29 pm
A sick husband is ALWAYS worse than a sick kid. ALWAYS!!!!!
The Queen of Shake-Shake
March 26, 2007 at 9:56 pm
I hate the History channel too. And Mythbusters. And Dirty Jobs. The guy on there is hot but not so much after he plays in cow shit. Ugh.
Shannon
March 27, 2007 at 12:57 am
It is funny (maybe a bit scary) how whiny the big bad men in our lives can be when a cold enters their world! I hope your day and week is better than the weekend.
Kara
March 27, 2007 at 1:08 am
amen sister! I’m so with you on all your points!
Hope peanut and hubby gets better soon. I’m right there with you though….both my boys are sick,sick,sick. yuck.
Kelly
March 27, 2007 at 2:03 am
I love rants! And I certainly hope you’ve caught your breath AND feel better after that one. I agree with you on The History Channel (yawn), but I have to disagree with one of your fellow commenters. ‘Dirty Job’ is a helluva sexy show. Mike Rowe somehow manages to pull off being a sex symbol despite being knee dip in shit half the time.
Hope your husband and your kid are on the mend soon, so you can get a break.
Slackermommy
March 27, 2007 at 4:21 am
Don’t you feel better now? Blog venting is the best therapy.