While all you Yanks are fattened up and sitting around the house (if you’re not out shopping) I’m sitting home, with this miserable cough and have my sidekick home today as well. Carter was really groggy and not himself yesterday at daycare or when he came home so he’s here today. We’re chillin’.

I’ve forgotten what it’s like to stay home all day with a child. Even though it’s only 9am we’ve squabbled over the TV, breakfast and a diaper change, already.

I honestly have no idea what to do with a toddler all day. An infant was easy peasy - he was a bump on a log and fascinated by the sight of his own toes, but that doesn’t really cut it anymore. Now that he knows what his toes are and what they’re good for the allure is gone.

I don’t wanna deal with paint or Play-Doh and dammit, it’s cold outside.

Do I leave him in front of the television all day?

I could read to him, but he always just rips the book from my hands to look at the pictures and then throws it. Frankly, it pisses me off.

Take him to the mall? But we’re both sick and I don’t feel like getting dressed. Going out in public could cause a visit from Child Services. That’s out.

I don’t know how you Stay-at-home-parents do it. I really don’t. I know now that I can handle the first year, but when it comes to actually ENTERTAINING my child, I fall incredibly short. And I have a full year of him home when this new terror blessing arrives.

When we decided to have kids I don’t think the conversation ever included: But dude, what the hell are we going to do with him once he’s two and needs shit to do, cuz I suck at entertaining.

I just got dragged upstairs at the request of the toddler for a diaper change. I think he said something like: Bitch, change my ass.

But I’m not entirely sure.

Just wait until I’m old and you’re changin’ my ass kid.

What goes around, comes around.

One of the more fantastic! things about daycare is the sick children: mine being one of them. Carter’s had this horribly wretched cough for a couple weeks now, but it’s not strong enough to be croup, just super duper annoying and only made awesomer by the fact that he’s shared it with moi.

I came home sick yesterday with this stupid chest burning cough that created a miserable headache causing my concentration to be solely on whether or not the next cough would make me gag bad enough that I would hurl all over my desk.

A joy of pregnancy is that I’m limited to using Halls, Tums or Tylenol for sickness remedies so I wasn’t able enjoy the drug induced coma of which only Ny-Quil, Advil and Benylin are capable of. Sleep was my only savior from the burning and gaging. But once bedtime came around, I wasn’t tired anymore but just tossed and turned. And coughed.

My throat is so raw I have a fuckin’ headache from hell, and I’m now trying to do work from home.

This damn computer screen is making my head worse and to top it all off? The doors on my car were all iced shut this morning. Completely shut. Like I thought I hadn’t unlocked them and was just pulling on a locked car door.

At least that’s what I must have looked like to my neighbours.

New tires! Yes, that’s right. TIRES. Only one had a irreparable screw hole, but all FOUR were replaced.

Once the service tech said that the wear on the tire was nearing the end of it’s short life, he would recommend two new tires, to balance it all out. I expected that, I know enough about tires that it’s not a complete lie to get more money out of customers.

Man Logic would dictate: Why buy just two when you can get all FOUR?

And female logic would say: Well, two is half the price of four. We can buy two more later when we have a little more free cash (Hahahaha!) and Christmas isn’t just around the corner.

Apparently I was once again HORMONAL! and BITCHY! because an argument ensued, in the MIDDLE of the store, with our small child in tow, about how I never listen and it makes more sense to just buy FOUR!

I gave in and am now the proud owner of FOUR brand new tires and we are slightly poorer then we were 12 hours ago. Now all I have to worry about is how we’re going to pay this months bills after splurging 600 bucks on new tires… when we only NEEDED two.

*sigh*

Oh, and that old bitty with a Baby Jesus on the dashboard? Yeah, she PASSED me on the way home last night when I was still driving with my donut.

So maybe I should be a little grateful for the new tires.

Oh! And! Last night…

I ate dinner and walked around the store and didn’t feel nauseous at all!! I had no urge to spew!

It was utter bliss!!

Saturday during an afternoon of winter boot shopping for The Kid I looked down while loading him in the car to notice there was a nice shiny new screw in my TIRE. But the tire held air, so Mike wall all: That’s great that it’s still holding air. I’ll take it to the shop to get it patched. One rational normal thinker would assume that meant The Same Day NOT The Next Day. Apparently there is no rational thought required in a case such as this.

Sunday morning Mike trekked to Costso to get it patched only to realize that Every Single Person in our vicinity also required car service, from Costco, at 10am. On a Sunday. Go figure.

Refusing to stand in line, he came home all pissed off that there was a line and he wasn’t first. The Horror! And the car went yet another day with a tire plugged with a screw, just praying that it didn’t deflate or shred to pieces as I drove like a maniac through the city streets. But at daycare pick-up last evening, I noticed it was in fact losing air; that damn screw wasn’t doing it’s job. It was time to lay down The Law.

Once home I laid it on thick to Mike: I’m driving a car throughout the city with Your Child and Me, Your Pregnant Wife in it, and a TIRE that has a SCREW in it and that SCREW is deciding our FATE!!

He headed back to Costco - I assume he was thinking that everyone had their car serviced on Sunday and there wouldn’t be a line on Monday…

There was a line.

He left. Again.

Went to another shop - Canadian Tire (for the US readers: Canadian Tire is kinda like a WalMart but they are notorious for ripping off customers in the auto department) where he waited for TWO HOURS for a service technician to take the tire off, tell him it’s irreparable and to put the spare (donut) on.

Needless to say, he was pissed and vowed to Never Step Foot in That Store Again.

I don’t have a new tire, but a donut. Rated for 80km/hr (50m/hr) and I had to drive on the highway, far. Risking it more then I was with the damn screw I think. Though if you ask Mike, I was just being HORMONAL! and BITCHY!

People, I can’t drive slow. I am a notorious speeder with two rather large tickets under my belt and even though I’ve managed to keep the speeding to a minimum of 20km over the limit, I had to set the cruise to remind myself to take it slow. Slower then I have ever gone before.

I feel like an old bitty in the slow lane, like I was watching my life pass me by. Instead of blonde, my hair should be white and I should move real close to the steering wheel. Maybe put a statue of Baby Jesus on the dashboard. Enough stereotyping for you?