WFHWTF: Week three by two

So, patient zero, Padawan One, fucked us all.

It was such a week, I honestly cannot remember WTF the weekend was. We bailed on a tonne of shit. We suffered as a family. We endured.

The week started with the younger Padawan’s head looking like the Moon from coxsackievirus. Thankfully, the rest of them was pretty chill. Well, as much as a 10 week old will allow it compared normal, which isn’t chill to begin with. Meaning, it’s been predictably challenging. But thankfully, the older Padawan is essentially over it, so there’s that.

On the other hand… my hands… oh, gawd, my…fucking…hands…hurt!!!! “My hands feel like I grabbed a porcupine that was hugging a cactus”

My depressed immune system (thank you psoriasis/psoriatic arthritis and related meds) made me exceptionally vulnerable to this and by the end of the week I had a case of it that far exceeded the mid ones our younglings had.

Hightlight of the week was the brand new outside firepit. Lowlight was almost not being able to utilize it, or make food, or even at one point comfortably pick up either Padawan, because I couldn’t functionally use my hands. It was somewhere between breaking my hand and being in a sports cast and having my worst case of poison ivy.

Yeah, yeah, oh woah is me. We missed birthdays. And graduations. And ad hoc invitations. Maybe no one missed me. They might miss my partner or the Padawans thought!

Anyway, speaking of the Padawans. While the older one is pivoting to mom again, the younger one is finally acknowledging me. And their feet and toes. And the idea of being tickled. And a bunch of goofy other shit. The world is like a cracked open coconut.

In the meantime…My hands feel like I grabbed a porcupine that was hugging a cactus. By Thursday ever single good thing that happened bonding wise was lost in the fact that I hated myself. My surroundings. The 90+ degree heat wave. The lack of comfort food in the house.

That kind of undermines the whole idea of bonding. It was tough on me. The otezla doesn’t help. I’m off it again. It’s a catch 22. I’ll catch something else other than the number and we’ll have to figure this shit out all over again.

Anyway, by Thursday when everyone was in bed I finally put the firepit to good use. A rye and I sad aside it, nearly in tears. It actually felt quite cathartic.

Listening this week advanced last week by one decade. The rap and punk influence embraced the intersection in the likes of Rage Against the Machine, Iced T, Downset, Ice Cube, Biohazard, a Tribe Called Quest, the Fugees

About thedoormouse

I am I. That’s all that i am. my little mousehole in cyberspace of fiction, recipes, sacrasm, op-ed on music, sports, and other notations both grand and tiny:
This entry was posted in music, Padawan Music Chronicles, parenting, WFHWTF. Bookmark the permalink.

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