This Train Don’t Stop There Anymore.
When ill, like I am right now, I rarely run a fever. A fever for me is a piss poor indicator as to how ill I really am, unless I have one. Then it means that I am extremely sick. So sick, in fact, that I woke up in the middle of the night last night drenched in sweat and blearily made my way downstairs to wake Dave and inform him that I “felt just like a bagel.”
Then, without another word, I trundled back upstairs and went back to sleep.
At least, I think I did.
Ah, the fever she is raging mightily within me, which means that I broke into my Christmas stash of crappy CD’s that I love with all of my heart and listened to sappy stuff like Rod Stewart and Elton John, while I wept copious tears about nothing, really. Then I decided that I needed to clean the house.
Dripping sweat, red faced, yet determined, both the dog and baby watched me warily as I frantically scrubbed the kitchen floor. Then the toliet. Then the highchair. Dave is back at work from his Christmas vacation which effectively means that there is no one to tell me to put down the mop and step away from the bleach (whoo-boy does Aunt Becky love bleach!) when they should.
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I cannot begin to properly articulate how I feel after hearing about Britney’s meltdown (but I assure you it doesn’t make me feel like a bagel), but it just makes me so sad. Becoming a parent means opening yourself up to criticism from all possible sides, and that’s without living in the limelight. Hell, I just have this crappy blog and yet I find myself tempering some of the things I say here so as not to evoke the fury of a thousand angry mothers who cannot believe how I solve problems or parent my children (I mean, what’s wrong with chaining my children to a wall in the basement while I throw loud parties ANYWAY?).
As with anything in life, my choices are my own, but I have the blanket of total anonymity to hide behind and no one is the wiser (well, this isn’t completely true. I have bribed some of my friends to read my blog and comment so as to feel like less of a loser. And I’m sure it’d be pretty easy to figure out who I am, but I assume that most people have better things to do with their days than to stalk random Internet People. Shit, I know that I do.), I MEAN, WHAT IF MY NAME REALLY ISN’T “BECKY?” WHAT IF IT’S “SHANNA?” AND WHAT IF I AM ACTUALLY A TEENAGED BOY?
(Have no fear, I’m not even remotely creative enough to come up with a fake life to support a blog. When hard pressed, it took me about 20 minutes to come up with the example of “Shanna” as an alternate to my given name).
But Britney, she doesn’t have anything to hide behind. Every step of the way, someone is finding fault with everything she does. Don’t bother telling me that she “chose” this lifestyle, because what would you have done at 16 (at 16 I probably would’ve gotten “Courtney Love Rocks” tattooed on my ass. It’s a good thing you have to be 21 to get a tattoo here in Illinois, eh?)? I’m pretty positive that it isn’t what you’d choose at 25.
Mental illness is not funny. Not even a little. Emotional breakdowns are also not funny.
Sure, I use the terms “crazy” and “nut house” occasionally, but as someone who has frequently had to pick up her own mother at the ole’ Mental Hospital, I think I’ve earned that right (man, “pick up my mother at the Mental Hospital” is right up there with phrases I hate to use, alongside “my last upper endoscopy” and “fecal-oral route of transmission.” Oh, and “piping hot,” but only because it’s annoying.).
So Britney, as a person you’ll never meet, I wish you the best of everything and I hope that you’re able to pull yourself out of this hole. The world won’t be the same without you in it.
I feel horrible for her, too. I was dinkin around on the intarwebs earlier, and they have photos and video of the ambulance coming to get her. On one site, they claim to be showing her in actual restraints. In reality, she’s simply secured to the cot with the same restraints used on EVERY patient that takes a ride in the bambulance, but apparently that doesn’t seem to matter. Heh. I can’t imagine having that kind of hoopla surrounding me while being loaded into a rig. That’s just not right. So much for HIPAA for Britney eh?
Last year when we had the flu, I watched the entire North and South series – all four discs (you know, Patrick Swayze and Kirstie Alley?). I still can’t look at that boxed set – how did it get in this house?! I also hopped on the elliptical trainer getting all dizzy and loopy and throwing sweat everywhere about two days; not much better than bleaching the house – at least your endeavor was productive!
I’m not even sure how I found my way to you but I’m glad. you sound like someone I can relate to:)
Parenting is hard and every time I see Britney I silently curse her mother. WTF was she thinking, pimping her baby girls out to the public?! Nasty lady.
Anyway, I feel badly for her too and her babies.
Sorry about the fever! I rarely get sick but when I do, it never involves cleaning. It involves much whining and laying in bed moaning:)
Happy New year.
Ummm, you’re gonna hate me.
“Don’t bother telling me that she “choose†this lifestyle…”
Did you mean “chose”? Of course you did. Sorry, I’m defective like this.
Yeah, poor old britney. I have been thinking of buying her album just to show support, but so many other people did that I thought better of it (No offence intended.. I know you love her, and it’s probably a step up from what I did yesterday, which was download the Spice Girls greatest hits).
Hope you feel better soon, Becky. You sound like my husband when he’s sick. Remember the “spacepuff system is a self-correcting system”? That was wacky.
I think what bugs me the most about the whole Britney thing is how gleefully other people are taking her breakdown. I don’t get it.
And Heather, I’ve never seen the North and South Series, but it sounds TERRIBLE!
Naw, Manny, I don’t hate you. I just need a proof-reader when I have a fever. I don’t even think my post made any sense whatsoever.
And Meg, The Spice Girls hold a special place in my heart, alongside Britney.
Oh, and Manny, I can forgive just about anything you say because your blog name is the funniest thing I have ever heard in my life. For serious.
Awwww shucks, Becky. Yer makin’ me blush. Have a great weekend and I hope you’re feeling up to snuff soon.
I bitch a lot about how people talk about Britney. I feel so bad for her – like the time she almost dropped her baby. I have almost dropped my kid a dozen times, it just wasn’t ever video taped and shown on television! There are a lot worse parents than her out there, I’ve met a few!
And as a person who’s been on the edge of a breakdown (not even exaggerating) it pisses me off even more to hear that people are happy about it happening to her.
I was in the grocery store this morning when I heard a girl (if I had to guess she was probably 17/18)say “I hope Britney loses those kids for good, she’s such a skank”. It took everything I had to not go over there and bitch slap her. As a mother I totally feel for Britney. Is she the perfect parent? No. But are any of us perfect parents? Absolutely not. I can’t imagine how I would feel if I had a mental breakdown and it was thrown all over the TV like that. I love that the news has time to focus on trashing Britney’s life and parenting style but they don’t have time to do stories on real life people that are abusing their children (God forbid someone find out that real life every day people are worse parents than a celebrity). The whole thing irks me…
I’m not sure why other parents seem so intent of mocking the choices of other parents. I try my best to be as non-judgemental as I can ESPECIALLY if I have no idea what this person has been through.
You can’t knock that crap until you’ve been there, and even if you have, it’s not your business. Especially when it comes to celebrities, like poor Britney.
I’m always defending Britney around here too! A while back there was an item online talking about how at 2am there were 15 paparazzi watching her leave her house. If I had 15 people on my lawn on a daily basis, I’d do a lot more than she has. She needs to move back home where we can shoot people on our lawn! A crazed Britney with a gun…think about it! I’m willing to bet the paps would think twice!