Breakfast in bed

well actually, I'm getting EVERYTHING in bed. I'm spending my 34th birthday in bed. That's because I'm really sick. I haven't been this sick in about 7 years. I have been really wheezy and having pain when I breathe. Then last night the fever started and has stayed high ever since. This morning the upset tummy started. I'm starting to wonder if it is pneumonia. The last 3 times I felt this sick, it was bacterial pneumonia. I'm going to wait and see though.

My husband went to the trouble of making me eggs benedict for breakfast and he and the kids gave me cards, chocolates and some earrings. It was very sweet, then I rolled over and went back to sleep. The boys have been very good about getting me drinks.

BTW, I am terribly behind on emails and reading blogs, but if I did happen to email or respond today, please forgive the pissy tone.

Hoping we "Gute Besserung"!

My husband came back from 2 1/2 weeks in Germany last week and spent 2 days recovering from a nasty cold that he had for over a week. (Matt has only taken 2 sick days in 15 years of working at his company, one of them being last week.) Well he gave it to Campbell, who told me today he that he was finished with it, so he gave it to Kira. Kira still has it, but she is sharing with me. I am feeling like death warmed over and I'm afraid that if I go to bed I will wake up feeling much much worse. Or worse, I will have to wake up to a feverish croupy Kira. European colds are terrible!

Of course the day I come down with his cold, my husband has left for Amherst, Mass.. UGH

I've been replaced

Yesterday, I came home from picking the kids up from school.  My husband's truck was parked out front, but he wasn't at the door to greet us,... or reading the paper in the living room, ...or even more likely trying out the new microwave on last night's dinner leftovers or the Bagel Bites I picked up for the occasion.   I ran upstairs.  "Matt, is something wrong?  You didn't 'nuke' anything!  Are you feeling okay?"

This is the scene I discovered 
I'm all for the dog sleeping on our bed, but after 2 or 3 naps with Matt, Puck has decided that his new favourite spot is my pillow.  UGH.  Now when Puck is in his crate, the cat tries to sleep on that pillow, even if I am on it.  They are having a turf war on my pillow.  I wouldn't mind it as much if I wasn't allergic (especially to the cat).

I miss my baby *WARNING - sappy blog post*

my firstborn baby that is. Patrick is away with a friend for the night. But I missed him today. He is such a great person and I love spending time with him. This boy is so good, he parents himself and often reminds me to be a better person.

Matt's aunt had a cancerous tumour removed from her colon 2 weeks ago. A few weeks ago, Patrick chose to go home with MIL which we thought was odd since my FIL was taking Campbell toy shopping. Well apparently my sweet little man was trying to get more details about the aunt's cancer from MIL (a recent cancer survivor) who had gone up to help take her to some of her appointments. Last week when his dad called hom from Germany, he got a turn to talk to him on the phone. Right after his dad congratulated him on winning his race, he says, "OH yeah, Daddy, did you hear the great news about Aunt G? Her cancer didn't spread to her lymph nodes and she doesn't need chemo!" I thought that was especially sweet that he was so excited about sharing this good news.

He played hockey this morning and then he was getting ready to have a shower and he showed me a mark on his leg. He said it had been there a few days and he didn't recall anything happening. It was a very weird looking bruise, at first I didn't look too close because of his post hockey smell, and I told him I'd look at it closer when he was out of the shower. He was in the shower and was saying it might be cancer because at school they had a presentation on leukemia (they are doing a fundraiser) and they said that the kids had lots of bruises. Poor kid has a bruise and he's worried that he has cancer!

He's growing up so fast and understanding so much, but he's just 9. I hate to see him worried about such serious things already, but I guess that's just his way.

I need to go to bed so when I wake up it will be tomorrow and my baby will come home.