After church on Sunday, I had a salad for lunch* & immediately started feeling sick. Upset stomach, the chills, achy - I was a mess. I skipped dinner and went to bed at 9pm.
I woke at my usual time on Monday morning & had to drag myself out of bed. Despite a delicious 9 1/2 hours of sleep, I was no better. I rallied long enough to put on sweatpants and get Big Sis to school (but not enough to actually dress Big J). I returned home and..... went back to bed.
Yes, I committed the Cardinal Sin of Motherhood and took a sick day.
I booted up Netflix, made sure Big J had a water cup, and then collapsed under my flannel sheets.
Big J was awesome.
He would check on me every half hour or so, but never asked for anything. As I drifted in and out of sleep, I heard him switch to Thomas, then Dora (yes, at the age of 3 he has mastered Netflix). I finally rose at almost 11 am. I found train tracks strung through the living room, Big J wandering the house without pants, and three cheese wrappers on the living room floor.
I still wasn't feeling better, but downed some Motrin and tried to get excited about lunch.
The husband suggested I have something to eat with my Motrin, and after a few Saltines & an episode of Veronica Mars, I was feeling tremendously better.
By the time I was ready to pick up Big Sis, I managed to clean a sink full of dishes, start a load of laundry, and dress myself - and Big J - in something other than pajamas.
Then I foolishly did my workout (stupid, but at least I'm still on schedule), and ended up in bed by 10pm.
It's amazing that 21 hours of sleep over 2 days can make you feel like a brand-new person.
*I think my husband is right, and winter is NOT the time to indulge in salads. The risks have not made it worth the rewards.