The Upside

The upside to being stuck at home with sick Caroline is that I haven’t had much opportunity to spend any money.   When she’s in school and I have nothing to do during the day, I shop.  Clearly, as evidenced by the rambling, whiny posts I’ve written all week I haven’t had much free time to shop this week and our bank account is reaping the benefits.

Except, I forgot that I bought a new carpet cleaner and a printer.  Oh, and a new home phone because our other one died a very slow death.

Nevermind.

It was a nice thought, anyway.

The purchases were worth it, though.  I can now print stuff, the phone won’t shut off mid conversation, and my carpets might somehow look a little fresher and a lot less splotchy from all the spills Caroline ‘accidentally’ anoints our carpets with.  Soup, juice, chocolate milk, you name it and she has dumped it.  I haven’t fired up the carpet cleaner yet; I’m waiting for Caroline to be in school so no one (read:  Caroline) is tempted to walk on the wet carpet.  Hopefully she’ll go to school again someday in the near future so I can test it out.

Oh please, oh please, oh please let her go to school sometime soon. 

We have a case of cabin fever, I do declare.  That’s what happens when your only outings for the week involved trips to the doctor and to Target for a carpet cleaner and milk.

It has been a long, long, LONG week.

I hate to jinx it, but I think Caroline might be on the mend.  However, I’m a pessimist of the highest order and am having trouble remaining optimistic.  Not even ‘cautiously’ optimistic.  We’ll see.  She had an appointment scheduled for 1 pm, but I canceled it because she’s showing signs of wellness and I try really hard to not look like one of ‘those’ moms.  Even though yesterday I said I was going to be a pest about it.  See, I’m pessimistic AND wishy-washy.

Keep your fingers crossed.  Because, well, she just HAS to go to school tomorrow.  No.  Really.  She HAS TO.  Otherwise, you just might find me back at the hospital, simultaneously scarfing down a king sized Snickers bar and begging for Xanax.

Believe me, I’m only half joking.  I’d never eat a king sized Snickers (regular size will do!), but I just might beg for drugs.

Feel free to send help!  And Snickers.

Or, if you know a psychiatrist……..

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