Mummy, PhD

It has been a long time since I blogged about anything. I suppose I stopped blogging because I decided that all of my writing JuJu should go into my dissertation. That was a good decision because I am now the proud mother to my very own doctoral thesis. As I sat down to write this blog, I realized that I am out of practice writing more than one sentence at a time because I am on Twitter now. I tweet because I got an iPhone and it is sort of charming to be able to tell the 14 people who think I'm interesting, "Hey, I'm eating muesli because it has lots of fiber." Twitter also turned into that thing I do while nursing a very easily distracted baby. Oh yeah, that reminds me, I have a baby now. My beautiful little Helen (a.k.a. Nell, Nellie, Nellski, Nellie Moo, Moodles, Moodle Bear, Boodles McGoo, or Gollum) came into my life in January, just before we moved to Ireland. Did I mention we live in Ireland now? Recounting the hows and the whys for all these major life events would take more time than I have right now in my new job as Mummy, PhD, so I'll leave those tales for another day.

Instead, let's talk about sinus headaches. I'm on Day 4 of the Worst Sinus Headache Ever. For the last two days, my eyes have felt like they are being squeezed slowly out of my head. I have never been punched in the eye, but I suspect that is what this feels like. I also have a throbbing tingle in my teeth, which seems to be following the rhythm of my pulse. I'm trying to avoid decongestants on the advice of the pharmacist who seemed to think that breastmilk is better without xylometazoline hydrochloride. The irony is that my child is the one who gave me this cold in the first place.

Perhaps the worst part of this sinus infection is that I can't smell anything. Many times in the past, I've had a cold and said something like "Poor me, I can't smell this delicious chicken soup." Old self, I laugh at you, for you had NO IDEA what it is like to really lose your sense of smell. For days now, food has been reduced to an experience of temperature and texture only. Popsicles are cold. Noodles are squishy. Muesli is crunchy. I hoped that spicy ethnic food might clear my nose and awaken my taste buds, but alas both Indian balti and Thai curry left me with a mild tingle in my throat and nothing more. Yesterday I got so desperate that I cleaned the toilets, hoping the pungent cleanser smell would cut through my congestion. Nothing.

There is one small advantage to not being able to smell anything--I can't detect the Tooty Fruity my baby leaves in her diapers. If you have changed a baby's diapers before they start solid food, you know the smell. That nostril-piercing, sickly-sweet, over-ripe fruit odor. Daddy, PhD and I have both gagged on the smell. We call it Tooty Fruity because, first Nell toots, then comes the fruit. We have an unspoken rule that "He who smells it, changes it." Several times during this illness, Daddy has remarked, "Gosh, she's smelling fruity. Can't you smell that?" Then he carries our stinky little Boodle Bear into her room at arms length, as if she were radioactive. Moments later, I hear "Oh. Eegh. Aagh. You need to see this!" I suppose being sick does have some perks.