I’m sick. And now I’m whiny about it. I started coughing Sunday night. Monday it felt like someone had beaten me and left me on a racetrack for cars to run over. Repeatedly. Monday night came the fever that I thought had peaked at 102.7 - I would be wrong. Wednesday found a doctor telling me, “Yeah, well, sometimes we guess wrong with the flu shot and you get the flu anyway.” Um, thanks. I haven’t been out of bed for more than an hour since we got home Monday evening. Yes, it is Friday morning. I honestly don’t know how single parents do it. David has taken this week off of work and basically brings the baby in to nurse and then they disappear again. He has done all the cooking. He is making sure I take all of my medications. He has done everything. And I’m on hold with the pediatrician’s office or you’d think I was still in Minnesota.

Oh wait. You didn’t know we were in Minnesota. We flew out a week ago last Sunday and stayed eight days. (Yes, that means I flew on a plane and gave everyone my flu - well everyone in first class anyway.) David’s maternal Grandma passed away. And while we are, of course, sad, we are thrilled she lived to 92 without really any major health problems until the last month or two. She met Nathan on several occasions. She had pictures of him all over her apartment. We got there in time to say goodbye and she passed very peacefully. Almost all of her family gathered to celebrate her life. I’m not sure any of us can ask for more than that.

Okay, maybe we can ask to not get the bleeping flu after getting the bleeping flu shot in September like we’re supposed to. And maybe we can ask to hit yarn stores while in Minneapolis/St. Paul - although I get why we didn’t. So maybe we can just ask for the bleeping scheduler to pick up the hold and to not get the flu.