When You Piss Off the Gods

I am pinching myself right now to make sure I’m awake.  Yup.  I’m awake alright.

While I’m not one to complain, please allow me a moment to recap the last week or so.  To begin, I’m 38 weeks pregnant and I have a one-and-a-half-year old and I work.  So no light load – I’m not sitting around all day eating bonbons and watching the Real Housewives of Tallahassee.  Secondly, I’ve been sick for a few weeks now.  Well, technically I’ve been sick since December 15th, but for all intents and purposes, I got sick-sick, like wish-I-could-stay-in-bed-all-day sick, last Friday.  And that’s the scene, the foreword, the background for which the following builds itself upon.

Curtain rise.

On Monday night I felt a strange ouch in my back.  Hmmmm.  Probably nothing, just your regular pre-baby aches and pains.  On Tuesday I woke up with a shooting pain that made walking seem like an uphill battle both ways in the snow.  On Wednesday, all ability to walk like a homosapien was gone and I realized baby had squeezed my sciatic nerve.  Luckily, I live in a big city and no gives a hunched-over gremlin a second look.

Then today, as I eagerly await my physical therapy appointment for tomorrow…juggling playing with my toddler, working, and leading an incredibly busy life at 38 weeks pregnant…my car died at the Farmer’s Market…10 minutes before naptime…with my sick child and hungry dog in the backseat.  Yup, because I didn’t have enough on my plate, I now have to figure out what’s ticking (or not ticking) in my car.  Luckily I have a gem of a husband who came to my rescue despite the fact that he was ensconced in an important meeting.  I think he could tell by my voice that I was loosing it.  Or maybe it was my 1.5 year old crying in the background.  Or the dog barking.  Or me not being able to hardly walk from point A to point B.

And that’s what happens when you piss off the gods.

 

 

Postscript…And the heater in our house broke.  And our nanny’s grampa just passed away.