I like to be busy. I like to be productive. No, make that I NEED to be busy and productive or I go a little nuts.
Yes, yes, I'm the first to admit that I am a classic Type A, neurotic personality. I thrive on functioning at a very high level.
This means that anything that slows me down, really irks me. This would include a bad night's sleep (I'm useless when I'm tired - no short term memory, grumpy, poor cognitive skills, etc.), and pesky colds and flus.
Unfortunately, this means that sometimes I push myself a wee too hard.
This began way back in high school. In 11th grade I was going to school and the gym EVERY day for about 2 weeks before I finally admitted to my parents that I wasn't feeling well. By the time they took me to the doctor, where I was diagnosed with mononucleosis AND strep throat, I could barely stand up straight.
I was in a bit of denial this week too. Sunday I woke up feeling tired, nauseous and headachy. I figured it was from indulging in wine and chocolate at the sedar. But Monday I felt the same. I figured it was my allergies. Tuesday I felt the same. Finally, after dropping off the girls at daycare yesterday, I realized I was in really rough shape. My muscles ached, my head ached and I was chilled to the bone. Still, I had some work to do (putting together some handouts for Infertility Awareness Week at the fertility clinic), so I forced myself to sit at my desk and work. I finished by mid-afternoon and at that point I could not deny that I needed a break. All I could think of doing was lying down. I got into my pajamas, bundled up, and lay down.
It being Wednesday, however, made things complicated with the girls. Adam was able to fetch them from daycare, but he had to take Big A to swimming, which meant I had to take care of Little A by myself. When Adam brought them home, she was in her customary late-afternoon mood: hysterical. Even though I got dizzy each time I stood up and my muscles were screaming, I somehow found the strength to carry her up and down the stairs and give her a bath (because she was refusing to walk), and make dinner for her, Big A and Adam. I swear this is the toughest thing about being a parent: The fact that even when you really NEED a break, ya can't take one! At least once she was bathed and fed, Little A's mood improved. In fact, she then decided to play nurse-maid to me and kept giving me hugs and telling me to get better. She even gave me one of her dollies as a sleep toy.
I ate nothing but steamed potatoes with butter and salt and then went to bed last night at about 8:15pm, and slept until about 7:15am today, when Adam brought in Little A to see me. She melted my heart with her concern and desire for "mommy to feel better". She covered me with her favorite blankie and both girls kissed me goodbye before Adam whisked them off to daycare and school. I'm up now and feeling better, although definitely not 100%, however, probably capable of checking almost everything off my to-do list today. Although I still bristle thinking about what a write-off yesterday was, I'm proud of myself for listening to my body.