I have just had an epic weekend. Spent most of it on my back, yo.
It kicked off Friday and Saturday with a migraine that The Feral Threesome were not remotely sympathetic to.
It was the two days of the school holidays that they decided to pull out the old guitar from the back of the wardrobe, plus the whistles accumulated from various birthday party goody bags, and scream non-stop at each other to be heard over their collective noise.
All of the OMGOUCH for light and noise sensitive migraine sufferer me.
They jumped into bed with me Saturday morning as per usual, which created a tidal wave of nausea thanks to the movement.
They fairly pissed themselves laughing at Mummy's routine of heaving and groaning as the nausea moved in an opposing pattern to the thumping in my head.
Seriously...best party trick ever, as far as they were concerned.
The little mini bastards didn't take me remotely seriously when I whimpered for them to go downstairs and ask Daddy for something Mummy could be sick in.
They cracked up and went downstairs and told #1Hubby that Mummy wanted something.
What?
I don't know x3
Ok Nothing.... Save for the exceptionally loud dulcet tones of "Ohhhh....who lives in a pineapple under the sea? SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS! Absorbent and yellow and porous is he! SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS!". Screw you Spongebob and your porous squarepants. Where were you when I was attempting to deposit the previous day's takings into the loo without raising my movement sensitive migraine head from the floor! Managed to raise myself Saturday arvo in time to pat #1Hubby on the back for his stellar efforts in managing all three kids from Friday night until then. Amazing...no idea how he did that....What a gem motherfu.... In a post-migraine haze I organised dinner and immediately after is when I realize something still wasn't right.
Cue Saturday night and Sunday gastro.
So today I am a somewhat subdued version of my former self.
Too scared to venture far from the bed or bathroom. Throwing all electronic devices at The Feral Threesome in the name of peace and relative quiet. Next weekend better be epic to make up for it. I'm expecting a date with Wentworth Miller where the cast of Magic Mike bust in to vie for my attention, and all of them shower me with Moet or Cristal or whatever Puff Daddy / P Diddy deems to be cool for the rich and famous at this point in time. Fingers crossed. And legs, you know, just in case the gastro hasn't completed left me....
