Sick II

This baby-having stuff has knocked me on my ass. I just got over being sick...again. The third time in six months. Maybe some people are sick that often, but I'm not one of them. In my pre-baby days, I was almost never sick. And it was a good thing, too, because I suck at it.

I'm terrible at being sick. When you're sick, you're supposed to go to bed and do nothing and rest and sit on the couch and watch bad TV and eat bland foods. I get itchy all over if I try to do that. Sitting and trying to rest just reminds me of all the things I'm supposed to be doing that I'm not doing because I'm sick, goddamnit.

"Get used to it," Rob's friend said when he heard I was sick. "You've got a kid now." Because kids are germ factories. They bring everything home. Except that Westley is too little to go anywhere I don't go, and (apart from a few teensy cold symptoms) he hasn't had so much as diaper rash in the six-and-a-half months that he's been on the planet. Better me than him, I guess.

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