Sleep, viruses, snot, sweat and David Blaine

Last night Paul got a wild hair up his ass and wanted to make a casino run to the Turtle. And who am I to turn down a casino run? We called a sitter and off we ran. Okay, we drove. Anyway, we proceded to gamble and really enjoyed just being together and out of the house. About 15 minutes before we left I noticed my right hand was shaking. Strange, I thought, but I felt fine. By the time we got in the truck and on the highway I started feeling very, very wrong. I felt really weak and dizzy, my head started pounding all of the sudden, I broke out in a sweat and my mouth started watering. A barf was on its way, I just knew it. I managed to reign it all in till we got home, hit the door and ran for the bathroom. Oddly, I was unable to puke. Don't you hate that? I considered the ol' finger down the throat trick just to make it all go away, but man, I really hate to puke so I just remained miserable. I took two Tylenol for the headache and two Benadryl for the nausea and crashed on the couch sitting straight up. I woke up 30 minutes later with another barf false alarm. At that point I figured that chances are I wasn't going to puke so I went to bed. I woke up 5 hours later with the right side of my body dead as a tree trunk from sleeping in one position for 5 hours solid. Ouch! I got up and took two more Tylenol because now I felt like I had a fever. I went back to bed and slept until the kids started whining for breakfast around 8. Actually I believe it was Sam that was doing a bang-up job of going "Mom, it's 8:21..........now it's 8:22......did you hear that, Mom? 8:22..............ooh now it's 8:23........Mom? Can I have Cookie Crisp for breakfast if you ever decide to get up? Yep, now it's 8:24........" I'd have smacked him except I didn't have the strength.

I managed to remain vertical for the next 3 1/2 hours and then it was all over but the crying. I took a shower because I'm pretty sure I smelled like ass. All that did was make me cold. I ate lunch. That didn't help either. The grilled cheese sandwich I had eaten, but hadn't tasted, was sitting like a ball of play-doh in my stomach and I was weak and shakey and chilling. I told the kids that they were going to get to watch as many movies as they wanted because mommy was sick and mommy needed sleep. Fortunately the neighbor called and wanted to know if the kids could come up. I drove them up there, asked for their mercy and 2 hours of babysitting so I could sleep. What awesome neighbors I have. I took some Motrin and some Benadryl and crashed for 2 hours. I called up there and had the kids walk home. While they were walking home I dragged out the three boxes of My Scene Barbies that the kids rarely play with and I stuffed them into a closet because I was tired of stepping on chunky heeled doll boots and mini-boom boxes. They were ecstatic to find that awaiting them when they got home. I was ecstatic that they were ecstatic and I crashed on the couch to sleep till 5. Roughly 5 hours of sleep this afternoon, folks. And I'm still exhausted. My poor children have been so neglected.

I considered calling Jill to tell her I'm sick and just holeing up again tomorrow, but I have too much to do, to be honest. I have GOT to get up to the Girl Scout store tomorrow to get my girls' badges and patches for our end of the year Brownie Badge Barbecue. Yeah, I made up that title alllllll by myself. The girls think it's a riot, though, so hush. And just more piddly stuff to do - like clean the house before DHS is alerted to the biohazard status we are about to reach. I think they're already suspicious of my horrific mothering abilities this weekend, anyway. And Mr. Diva is off on Tuesday and we are going to start the big bathroom remodel which includes scraping, cleaning, Kilzing and painting a partial wall, then Kilzing and painting the rest of the bathroom walls and cabinet, assembling a new cabinet and hanging up butterflies wherever we can find spots to hang them. Then when that's all done Sis is going to come in and paint bugs, butterflies and snails all over the place. Yes, I will take pictures.

For now, I'm going to go sleep. My hands feel strangely like Jell-o and my eyes are closing involuntarily. Man, I hate being sick.

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Note:
Oh yeah, I hit publish before I realized I hadn't written about why David Blaine's name is in the title of this post. Man, he is one freaky-ass dude. Anyone else think that? I get the major willies even looking at him. I may be wrong, and I hope I am, but that dude cannot be working for the Good Guy. The crap he does just seems a little too demonic for my taste. No kidding - just watching him on TV makes me feel like I need to pray and have a spiritual cleansing. His voice has no nothing in it - no emotion, no inflection, no nothing. Dude, that is wrong. We watched a special about Alain Nu and he was entertaining. His illusions and "magic" were intriguing and captivating. Then after that a special on David Blaine came on and that is why I'm out here on the computer now. I couldn't handle watching him any longer. Even sitting out here hearing his voice is making me shiver. Ach.