Seriously?

You know those really bizarre Fun Houses that you see in movies from time to time? The ones that you've never actually seen in real life, but have meandering hallways and wavy mirrors and small children with butcher knives hiding in the corners. The kind they use in movies where a character is hallucinating and it's meant to convey to you that he's HIGH. HIGH! THE DRUGS ARE BAD! THEY'VE BEEN SPIKED.

The Berrys are feeling like that this week. And this is big for me to say because I'm an inherent non-complainer about my life. I have gratitude and perspective and resilience. I've never used the acronym FML and none of my Facebook posts have ever complained about how my Starbucks order got screwed up and now my whole morning has gone to shit. Everyone in my family is healthy and here to enjoy. So, big picture, I'm still quite blessed. Small picture.... small picture is kicking our ASSES.

So there's already the partial bed rest that essentially turned into full bed rest because my body couldn't handle any more. And then there have been the weekly additions to the bed rest - now you have to increase your salt intake to keep your blood pressure up, now you need to shower using a granny stool, now you're only allowed to shower twice a week, now your fat ass is causing episodes of sleep apnea, now you need to start stretching your legs in the morning because pregnant people have problems with minerals and that's what causing the terrible cramping...

But STILL I've been rockin it. I had a little talk with myself early into the bed rest about how to every thing there is a season. A time to be hot and skinny and feel awesome and a time to lie low and sit on your couch in the middle of winter and just grow your child. And Husband Extraordinaire seemed to be rockin' it too. He was cleaning the house every weekend to make up for the previous week when nothing got cleaned, he was doing one small chore each morning before work to keep us in towels and bowls, and we weren't even ordering out.

Additionally, I kept noticing all of these wonderful little instances where things were just working out. Someone who thought they wouldn't be able to babysit suddenly could, the doctor's appointment lined up exactly with B's work schedule, etc, etc. See, I said to myself. What a beautiful example of life and karma just rising to the occasion. You were handed a setback, but it takes a village and all the villagers are coming together. 

ROCKIN' IT. Suck it, bed rest.

But then last Thursday hit and things started to slide down the hill faster and faster and now it's just getting comical around here.

B started his last semester of grad school last week and came home from his first class a little ashen. In addition to some major drama with the structure of the class that's already resulted in letters to his Dean, he came home proclaiming that the work load for this last semester was going to be unlike anything he's seen in the previous 2 1/2 years.

He spent the FIRST DAY after his FIRST CLASS at the library. And then he went back again two days later. He has FOUR projects due next week so I anticipate seeing him only for breakfast and his 8pm beer this weekend.

Then Charlotte got sick. Like, crazy, out of her mind, sick. Almost sicker than she's ever been. Fever, chest cold, coughing, mucus, no sleep, etc. All the mucus and coughing culminated in her puking in our bed at midnight - us spending 45 minutes cleaning up her and the bed - and then her doing it again five minutes after returning to our bed. Thankfully B has some serious cat-like reflexes and CAUGHT IT. Yup, welcome to fatherhood.

Then the beginning of the week rolled around and I started to get a wee bit sick and things started to go a wee bit haywire at B's work. Then Tuesday and Wednesday hit and all of the projects and conferences and drama B was starting to deal with at work really exploded, simultaneously with my "wee bit sick" turning into Is this the sickest I'VE ever been??

So Charlotte wasn't better, work wasn't better, and my is-it-pnemonia chest cold made me pee myself. Let me just wait while you let that sink in...

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Oh, are you picturing some cough-induced drips? Please don't. Please envision a potty training toddler who has forgotten that they have to pee and has caused a visible problem on the hardwood.

Let's add up what went wrong. First, I've been instructed to drink 3 liters of water a day to help with my blood pressure. Also, I'm full term and I challenge you to find the sorry sliver that is my bladder on this medical diagram. Now I'd like you to picture a cough so spontaneous and violent it's like you're actually drowning in your own fluids. Mucus waterboarding. Without warning, even though you have half a bottle of doctor-approved cough medicine in you.

So Much Pee. Twice. It happened twice.

And now if you aren't WAILING with laughter at my own absurd piss situation than you need to find a different blog. Because if this misery can't get a little company in the form of huge fits of laughter than we aren't seeing eye to eye.

Feel free to tell your friends. Have them call me to retell the story in person. It's the most insane zenith of our week that I can't even bring myself to be embarrassed because it's just that dumb. Pregnancy is a miracle.

Also, our vacuum broke for good this afternoon. I peed myself and the vacuum shit itself. It's poetic, really.