Hello Again! Listen to me whine.

We're back from vacation. (Notice how I didn't tell you when we were going? That's my Internet skittishness showing through so you all did not come rob my house while we were gone; you could have gotten some impressive dust bunnies.) Our trip was wonderful, and I am going to blog about it, but first I am going to complain.

I have the flu. I'm already feeling a little bit better, but last night and this morning were . . . uncomfortable. And I don't think that Paul's got the right attitude about this. Now, I'm no angel of patience. I get irritated when he's sick; especially when he stays up too late and doesn't take his vitamins - if he's drawing the illness out, I have no sympathy. But the last time he was really sick, I took care of Ellie all day and let him lie abed to recuperate. Also, I made homemade chicken noodle soup.

Last night (through this morning, until I finally had the stomach to clean it all up myself) Paul left Ellie's offerings in (and on) the potty chair for me to peruse during my many trips to the bathroom - just want I wanted to stare at while I'm nauseous.

Paul's a morning person while I'm not, so he usually gets up with Ellie, feeds her breakfast, then brings her to bed to wake me up so that I can go nurse and dress her for school. He did the same this morning. I thought this was less-than-thoughtful, especially as I'd been up most of the night trying to lie still enough to appease my roiling stomach.

I thought he'd get the picture when I commented that I just wasn't up to being a human jungle gym this morning. He pulled Ellie over to the his side of the bed, then proceeded to play all kinds of loud games that involved bouncing on the bed. Ugh.

I feel all kinds of virtuous for mildly commenting that I thought she'd be happy to play quietly in her room while he showered (hint: leave!) rather than killing him on the spot. I didn't have the energy anyway.