First of all…

What the crap BLUE BELL?! Why do you have to go and make tasty treats out of stuff that is already too tasty to begin with?

I bought this sucker on Friday night along with a frozen pizza and some mini Cokes. (The ones with Santa on them.) I was going to have a little party by myself after Penelope went to bed. Bridget was on a sleep over and Brent was at work. I had spent an entire day with a sick toddler plastered in my lap with what we later discovered was croup. The only thing that would calm her down was Sesame Street. Sesame Street all. day. long. I tried to switch it to X-Factor and she got seriously angry with me.

“No! Melmo!”

I couldn’t put her down to make breakfast, I couldn’t put her down to eat lunch and by the time dinner rolled around the only thing I had eaten was a few random handfuls of cereal, two slices of cheese and an apple. She had cough/gagged all over my side braid infusing my hair with the stench of old milk.

I would have washed it out if she had taken a nap that day. But she didn’t so instead I just marinated in it, getting a whiff every time I turned my head.

By that night I was starving and exhausted. After I finally got Penelope to go to bed I took that much needed shower while I preheated the oven. When I got out I ate a few spoonfuls of the ice cream and then decided I was too tired to eat pizza.

So now I have a big tub of ice cream sitting in my freezer next to a frozen pizza. I thought I would have a hard time staying out of the ice cream throughout the weekend but I didn’t. This is highly unusual. When I’m severely sleep deprived I typically eat and cry…. and then cry and eat. But not this time. I think I just might be getting a grasp on the mental aspect of this food business. Either that or I’m just getting really used to being sleep deprived.

Now, if only I could get some food in my belly. And some sleep, sleep would be nice. Do you want to know a strange fact? I get fat when I don’t eat and I lose weight when I do…. true story. So that means what happened on Friday can’t happen anymore. It’s just not healthy.

Brent worked overtime after his last shift so he was only home for two days before he had to go back. He left this morning and will be gone until Thursday morning. So I’ll have to deal with the croup monster on my own. I won’t be getting a break because I can’t take Penelope to the gym day care, even though that’s where she keeps picking up all of these illnesses.

For us stay at home mom’s the gym is our oasis. A time when we can let our kids explore and play while other adults chase them around for a change. I’ve seen the mom’s who linger around the locker room talking to their friends who are in the shower just to milk this adult time for all it’s worth. In the meantime their kid is coughing all over my kid as they fight over the last cracker at snack.

I’m not one of those moms. I usually speed through my workout expecting her to run into my arms when I come back to pick her up. (She usually runs away… I’m already cramping her style.)

Therefore, for the next week (if she’s up for it) I’ll be bundling her up and strapping her in the jogging stroller. The cool air is supposed to be good for her airway. I’ll probably also being doing air squats and push ups as I let the characters of sesame street count my reps…

Uh oh, I hear the croup monster now… I should’ve eaten breakfast while I had the chance.