I Give Up

Here’s how I know the God of Freezer Cooking is out to get me (and remember, today was meant to be the first of the ‘cooking’ days in my three week plan):

Miss Moo vomited in her sleep last night, necessitating a 2am bed change. Joy. Is it wrong that I simply set her up on the couch and dumped her sheets on top of the washer then went back to bed?
Miss Moo woke up at 3am because the blankets had slipped slightly off the couch exposing half a pinkie to the elements.
Miss Moo woke at 6:30 am for a hug. That’s it. Just a hug. Duly given by her father who was shoved kicking and screaming gently and lovingly coaxed from the marriage bed because hello? This little red hen had already been up twice and that ‘night waking’ nonsense was meant to have finished sometime around the age of three, right?
To add to my elation, the alarm went off at 6:45.
Miss Moo seemed fine (as kids tend to do once they get the ‘grossies’ out of their systems) and hadn’t been sick for hours so I was totally intending to send her to school (honestly, she looked and said she felt completely normal, nothing to indicate she couldn’t handle it and we live 4 mins walk from the school so I could collect her anytime) but then she bile-vomited (gosh I hope nobody’s eating while reading this) right before we left which reminded me once again that I never want to be ‘that mum’ who sends their ‘apparently well but clearly on death’s door’ child to school. Ahem.
Ashen-faced child has three nibbles of a piece of bread and later, some apple. One viewing of Barbie Fairytopia later, up came the apple. I don’t know how kids do it, but she retched her poor little guts up and when she was done, calmly looked into the bowl, saw the red apple chunks and very matter-of-factly exclaimed “Wow. That’s my apple in there!” I really hope we don’t have to have the Why Corn Doesn’t Digest discussion anytime soon. Seriously. After today I don’t think I could take it.
Mummy, by the way, was feeling not-so-flash myself at this point (you know that ‘very inner core of my BONES hurts’ kind of ickness that sometimes heralds - ahem - ‘women’s issues’? Plus a headache? Plus I’m into my fourth or fifth - I’ve lost count - week of The Wracking Cough That Produces No Phlegm). I took one look at the Spew Bucket and tried to palm the rinsing job off to Talented Hubby. He declined amidst stern scowls and threats. Who ended up doing it? Mummy of course (although I do have a nice little package of revenge worked out for the next time I’m vomity-ill, tee hee)
Many hours are spent lazing around. TH goes into work for a spell, then comes home for lunch. I try to convince him to bring home KFC but methinks he’s a bit against KFC at the moment. Drat.
We spent a couple of hours lying in the sun on the trampoline, semi-napping. I’m waiting until tomorrow to see if I sunburned although I do remember lying there thinking ‘Hmmm, I’m a wee bit warm about the face. Perhaps a splosh of sunscreen would be appropriate?’ and then I lifted a leg to shimmy off the trampoline and it just all became too hard so I lay back down again. It’s that kind of day folks.
Miss Moo carried an ice-cream bucket to school when we went there to pick up her brother at the bell. Many strange looks as to why Ashen Child and I Don’t Care If I Didn’t Brush My Hair Today So Why Should You? Mama were particularly attached to Peters Mint Chocolate Chip.
And now we are home again. Miss Moo is (once again) installed on the couch watching cartoons and I’m here wishing I was curled up next to her. I would like to think the world stops when I decide to hop off but alas, it generally decides to keep rotating regardless (the nerve!) so meals still need to be made, shirts still call out for ironing and fights still need to be broken up. Sigh. About the only thing that doesn’t give me pain at the moment is blogging and even now my fingers are cramping up.
Oh, and did I mention I have a handmade quilt to handwash, sheets to shove in the dryer (machine drying? I know, I know. But today I just don’t care) a mattress to flip (I at least had the presence of mind to get into it with the upholstery cleaner/disinfectant last night) and a bed to remake. Not to mention dinner to make.

I have done absolutely ZERO freezer prep/cooking today. Zilch. Plan down the gurgler because the way I know I will feel for the next couple days, I just won’t have the energy. Darn you post-children, cyclically-altered body! Why can’t you be predictable for a change! Ingredients can of course be salvaged and for the most part just made up on the night rather than in advance, and I’ll continue to track expenses for the three weeks but freezer cooking? My nemesis strikes again!