Easterggedon

I didn't think that the simple act of eating a slice of Quiche Florentine before heading up North for a funeral visitation would be my loss at a game of Russian Roulette, but it was.  I only ate it to avoid being hangry* in the car ride, which is the number three cause for any fights that Chris and I have.

I bought the pre-assembled grocery store quiche in question for a Wednesday night dinner for a vegetarian friend, but he couldn't make it over and ended up cancelling, so the quiche remained in the fridge.  On Friday we had friends over for brunch, a nine month pregnant woman, her husband and their two year old daughter, but we filled ourselves on other food and the quiche remained untouched.  So, I decided to eat it on Friday afternoon, before our trip up North - BIG MISTAKE.  Chris declined because he had grazed on grapes, cheese and kielbasa all afternoon and he'll only eat quiche if he's forced to.

Source: flickr.com  via: diekatrin on creativecommons.org

When we went to bed Friday night I commented to Chris that I "Didn't feel so good."  By Saturday morning I was throwing up and passing out for hours at a time.  We had to cancel the Easter dinner we were hosting, and then the plans on Sunday for my niece's fourth birthday.  Then on Monday Chris had to work from home so he could make sure that I didn't neglect our children while I prayed to the porcelain gods facing North and South.  Monday night we thought I was getting better, only for me to relapse, likely due to severe dehydration, meaning Chris had to stay home with us again on Tuesday.  Did I mention that both kids are teething and crawling backwards and log rolling everywhere?  I finally called my doctor and Chris made a trip to the drug store to talk to the pharmacist, who suggested that I had Salmonella poisoning - especially since no one else was ill.  Apparently such poisoning can last 4-7 days, which explains why I am still primarily living off of soup broth and toast.

My first trip out of the house in almost a week was to go and see the movie Hunger Games on Wednesday night after my first day home alone with the kids.**  Earlier that day I had taken some Immodium to ensure that I'd be safe for the movie, but have found that like Jurassic Park, "Nature finds a way" and I ended up violently vomiting red Powerade in our kitchen sink while Molly and Jack freeranged on the livingroom floor.  I called Chris mid pantrum*** and announced that I wouldn't make it to the movies while he tried to talk me down, I imagine with the phone about six inches away from his ear to avoid my loud sobs and hysterical crying jags.  I managed to make the movie and even had enough energy to enjoy two hearty servings of ginger ale after the show.

When I logged onto Facebook earlier this week I felt jealous of all of the photos of friends and family and their children in cute new Spring clothes and pretty pastel Easter dresses.  My only pastel was pepto coloured pink or Gatorade green.  My first Easter with the kids was not how I imagined it - at all. I have to say a big thank you to Chris for taking care of everything and everyone this weekend, and rarely complaining.  He was practically perfect, except for Saturday when he decided it was a good idea to eat coleslaw and hard boiled eggs right beside me.  That was really gross.



*Hangry is a term first aptly coined by my friend GE.  Hangry is when you are so hungry it makes you angry, with an uncontrollable, irrational rage that can not be satiated until you are satisfied, like Joe Pesci in that Snickers commercial.
**The irony is not lost on me, or as a friend kindly emailed me: "The ironing is delicious - maniacal laugh, maniacal laugh, maniacal laugh."
***Panicked Tantrum, I had a lot of these when I was really ill and pregnant.