Well, the verdict is in, and apparently, Mr. Epstein Barr is responsible for my recent malaise. My feeling on this are mixed. Apparently I’m not completely crazy, but as I’ve said before, I’ve always looked somewhat askance on the CFS/Epstein Barr thing. Plus, I can’t really figure out what it is. On most of the web sites I visit looking for information, Epstein Barr seems to be used interchangeably with mono. I’ve read in a couple of other places that Epstein Barr is the virus that CAUSES mono. I’ve also read that in adults, the symptoms are called “Epstein Barr,” and in teenagers, the symptoms are called, “mono.” Apparently, between 40% and 50% of adults have the Epstein Barr virus—but it doesn’t “activate” in most people. Basically—color me confused.
I don’t know why or how I have it—just that I do. The nurse I talked to on the phone told me to get a good multivitamin, along with a B complex vitamin, and to come in for B12 shots as often as once a week. She said to sleep whenever I can. She said that I’m “peaking” (haven’t done that since my college days) right now, and will “exhibit acute symptoms” for the next several weeks. She said that my numbers (whatever numbers they are—and whoever is counting them) should be around 19 and are at like 164 (whatever that means).
What I do know is I’m tired. Deadly tired. I also know that I basically don’t give a shit about much of anything, and that the kitchen is being devoured by dishes and my bedroom floor is being devoured by laundry. I know I’m getting wrinkles. I know that I need to take better care of myself. I know that I hate to do that.
Now then—Sophie news. We had an incident with the honey bear yesterday. She wants to love it. To tart it around the house, drinking honey directly from the poor little guy’s head at will. I do not want this. Yesterday, I caught her with the honey bear. She startled, took it out of her mouth, and said, “I love you mommy!”
I had a conference with her teacher and learned that Soph is brilliant and clever in almost every way—other than real world things. She recognizes letter sounds better than anyone in her class—but is the only one who can’t zip her coat. She’s the only one who knows the primary colors—knows that they’re called primary colors, and knows how to mix them to make secondary colors—but refuses to put the straw in her juice box by herself. So—I’m thinking this is operator error—and I’m the operator. We play word games. We make play-dough. We read and read and read. BUT—I always am in a hurry to get things done, and do things for her she should be learning to do on her own. So—note to self, quit babying my baby—because she’s not a baby anymore.
Today’s best thing about being a mom:
Taking out her braids and sending her to school with beautiful wavy “princess hair.”
Today’s worst thing about being a mom:
Waiting for her to ZIP HER DAMN JACKET UP!!