Hello?
Holiday recap:
I wore myself ragged the weeks leading up to Christmas. The Italian in me came out and I bought way to much food to serve, made to many cookies and stressed to much. I got a cold the week before Christmas so all runs were out of the question. I was lucky to get 4 hours of sleep a night the week before also. The day of Christmas eve I got my house ready for our big buffet for the family and some neighbors. I didn't eat anything all day with the exception of 7 cups of coffee. Partay started at 3 and everyone was there by 4. At 5 pm I went to the garage to get more ice for the beer and found one of my dogs had died. Very upsetting. She had been sick and we were going to put her down the Thursday before Xmas, but she got better. I went inside told my husband and he being the asshole he is told me to shush up about it. I went in the bathroom and cried. My father (who rocks) bagged her up (while her brother kind of flipped out during that episode) Later that evening I found the little ones playing on all the tikes in our garage. I started to get all the kids onto our driveway b/c Dawn was still bagged in there. But.....she wasn't there anymore. My father came out and said "oh I buried her already". He had already dug her grave the day before b/c he knew the end was coming. He left the party and went to our pet graveyard and was finished and drinking wine before anyone noticed he was even gone. Dad's rock!
Ok so the party goes great and I finally get to sleep! My husband puts all the gifts out for me and I'm tucked nicely into bed. At 1:30 am the two oldest jump on our bed and tell us Santa came. We tell them to sleep with us till morning. I wake up at 3 am sweating. I go downstairs and eat some oatmeal. Of course I'm wide awake. As I watch bad tv my stomach starts churning. Then I realize I either have to vomit or have a bowel movement. I run to the bathroom and do the latter. (anything NOT to throw up) I'm seriously ill. I get up and flush and start to pass out. I run/crawl to the kitchen and wail out my husband's name. It takes him some time to get to me. By this time I find that the kitchen floor is wonderful. He gets down with me and tells me to get up.
me: "no, it's so nice here"
him: M you have to get up you can't sleep here"
me: "please let me just lay here, it's so cool"
him: "i'm going to pick you up"
me: "i might throw up on you"
him: "you have to get up, you can't lay on the kitchen floor. I'm getting you up now"
me: (thought process....why did I call him in the first place? it's so nice here) He was right though and he helped me upstairs.
I get up to bed. At 6am I wake up and another visit to bathroom. My daughter meets me at the door. "Look Santa brought me an IPOD!!!!!!!" (i hid that thing in the bottom of her stocking! Why is she even in her stocking? We always do those last. How did she even get the stocking down?) I'm pissed. That morning, not a picture was taken and I layed on the couch while the kids opened all their gifts. I vagely remember David shaking me to get up and play. I slept a total of 10 hours that day and 8 hours that night. I managed to get one UNO game in with the kids. My husband lost his asshole status and became the greatest husband/father: he made breakfast, lunch dinner, cleaned like a Marine Corp Vetern, entertained my family, set up all the kids games toys and undid every wire and security device that the true assholes of this world invented . He kept everyone away from me while I got better too. The next morning I felt great, but was so dehydrated that I reached my goal weight (and driver's license weight) of 135 lbs. Needless to say after drinking mountains of water, cookies, Boars Head meats, Italian wedding soup I put on 4lbs. For the first time I didn't mind gaining weight.
I went out for a 3 miler this morning. It had been almost 2 weeks since my last run. I took it slow since I'm still on the weak side. I wasn't running my 8:45 to 9:01 pace (i did clock mile 2 in 8:30) but I haven't lost my stride. It felt great and I'm glad I pushed myself out the door.
Anyhow not the best Christmas ever (hopefully this will be the worst one I will ever have)
I wore myself ragged the weeks leading up to Christmas. The Italian in me came out and I bought way to much food to serve, made to many cookies and stressed to much. I got a cold the week before Christmas so all runs were out of the question. I was lucky to get 4 hours of sleep a night the week before also. The day of Christmas eve I got my house ready for our big buffet for the family and some neighbors. I didn't eat anything all day with the exception of 7 cups of coffee. Partay started at 3 and everyone was there by 4. At 5 pm I went to the garage to get more ice for the beer and found one of my dogs had died. Very upsetting. She had been sick and we were going to put her down the Thursday before Xmas, but she got better. I went inside told my husband and he being the asshole he is told me to shush up about it. I went in the bathroom and cried. My father (who rocks) bagged her up (while her brother kind of flipped out during that episode) Later that evening I found the little ones playing on all the tikes in our garage. I started to get all the kids onto our driveway b/c Dawn was still bagged in there. But.....she wasn't there anymore. My father came out and said "oh I buried her already". He had already dug her grave the day before b/c he knew the end was coming. He left the party and went to our pet graveyard and was finished and drinking wine before anyone noticed he was even gone. Dad's rock!
Ok so the party goes great and I finally get to sleep! My husband puts all the gifts out for me and I'm tucked nicely into bed. At 1:30 am the two oldest jump on our bed and tell us Santa came. We tell them to sleep with us till morning. I wake up at 3 am sweating. I go downstairs and eat some oatmeal. Of course I'm wide awake. As I watch bad tv my stomach starts churning. Then I realize I either have to vomit or have a bowel movement. I run to the bathroom and do the latter. (anything NOT to throw up) I'm seriously ill. I get up and flush and start to pass out. I run/crawl to the kitchen and wail out my husband's name. It takes him some time to get to me. By this time I find that the kitchen floor is wonderful. He gets down with me and tells me to get up.
me: "no, it's so nice here"
him: M you have to get up you can't sleep here"
me: "please let me just lay here, it's so cool"
him: "i'm going to pick you up"
me: "i might throw up on you"
him: "you have to get up, you can't lay on the kitchen floor. I'm getting you up now"
me: (thought process....why did I call him in the first place? it's so nice here) He was right though and he helped me upstairs.
I get up to bed. At 6am I wake up and another visit to bathroom. My daughter meets me at the door. "Look Santa brought me an IPOD!!!!!!!" (i hid that thing in the bottom of her stocking! Why is she even in her stocking? We always do those last. How did she even get the stocking down?) I'm pissed. That morning, not a picture was taken and I layed on the couch while the kids opened all their gifts. I vagely remember David shaking me to get up and play. I slept a total of 10 hours that day and 8 hours that night. I managed to get one UNO game in with the kids. My husband lost his asshole status and became the greatest husband/father: he made breakfast, lunch dinner, cleaned like a Marine Corp Vetern, entertained my family, set up all the kids games toys and undid every wire and security device that the true assholes of this world invented . He kept everyone away from me while I got better too. The next morning I felt great, but was so dehydrated that I reached my goal weight (and driver's license weight) of 135 lbs. Needless to say after drinking mountains of water, cookies, Boars Head meats, Italian wedding soup I put on 4lbs. For the first time I didn't mind gaining weight.
I went out for a 3 miler this morning. It had been almost 2 weeks since my last run. I took it slow since I'm still on the weak side. I wasn't running my 8:45 to 9:01 pace (i did clock mile 2 in 8:30) but I haven't lost my stride. It felt great and I'm glad I pushed myself out the door.
Anyhow not the best Christmas ever (hopefully this will be the worst one I will ever have)
posted by m at
6:49 AM
8 Comments:
Ugh. At least I didn't get sick until after the holiday! :-) Glad your husband did such a great job. And I'm so sorry about your dog!
yikes. sorry you got so sick. why do these things always happen around the holidays! congrats on the weight loss (and gain!) and 8:30 min mile after being sick sounds damn good to me!
Wow, what a roller coaster. It seems like every Christmas we have someone either sick or have something semi-awful happen. Glad you're getting better.
You poor thing! Hope you are on the up and up!
Christmas is stressful. Hope you feel better!
I'm sorry about your dog. Your Christmas sounded rough! Better wishes in 2007! :) You're still my idol for learning how to run so quickly and so well.
I'm sorry to hear about Dawn! I hope she died in her sleep, poor thing.
And I'm glad you're feeling better. i was sick as well just after the holidays. But not sick enough to lie on my kitchen floor ...
Hope you are doing well!
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